Welcome to your Garden

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Welcome to the garden of your life.
It’s so pretty here, if you find yourself
taking it all in at exactly the right moment,
when the flowers are in full bloom,
and the sun glints just so through the treetops
and into the lush, verdant space around you.
There is someone praying, maybe it’s you,
for relief from the feeling that everything should stay,
that the worst thing that could happen
is that all of this is going to change.
It is a deep and earnest prayer
that brings tears to the eye
and a deep rattling within the heart cage.
Maybe your eyes were closed, so you open them,
and the sun’s rays have shifted just enough
that the flower petals, as you take note,
have changed their direction to follow
the source of their nourishment.
It’s still your garden; you are still
in its endlessly deep, luxurious confines,
and you’ve never felt more free,
letting the changes do
what they were always going to,
and these transitions around you
are the heralding of life,
it’s coming and changing and going,
and fear that it will all disappear
is the golden emblem of your humanity.
It is your gorgeous humanity,
singing and haunting and taunting,
crying and pleading and laughing.
The garden takes it all in,
has only love to give back.
Take note of your garden; take it all in
with the time you’ve been given.
There is so much being offered,
and it’s all for you.
 
– TT
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How About Just For Now

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How about, just for now,
this one small moment,
nothing but this:
As far as I can see,
the world as a history of origins,
life coming into being,
and I dissolve right into
a time that predates me,
and the greens are readying
for the birds that will land for rest,
the sweet supple leaves plump and open,
and the sky, our shelter and window,
has not yet had to bear witness to the atrocities,
the trees are not yet scorched or felled.
But I do not have to travel in time
or let my imagination take over.
I can be braver.
I can stay.
I can let what is, is.
And I can look at my fear
until it turns into love.

– TT

Here in You: A Poem

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It is always a
coming home,
a remembering,
the air whip thin
and sparkling
a sundance of
unfiltered joy
the crackling
under the feet
of a whole
cycle of life
preparing for
its journey
down, out,
through,
standing still
no matter
where you are
to find yourself
at the epicenter
of the language
of birdsong,
and you don’t
want to
decipher it
because
you realize
you already
understand.
You know you
are here
in you.
 
– TS

Love is Here

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When we remove the word,
what remains?
The word is love.
I walk on the forest floor
that will snake up a mountain
on steps made of stone;
the peak out of view.
The sun, too,
flickers in and out from
among the tall cedar tree tops,
glinting now and then
blinding as she does.
Becoming blinded, as I do.
My heart begins to race.
Go slow, I tell myself.
I know where love is not.
I stumble, my mind takes me
to all the places I’ve failed,
to all the things I have believed
I cannot do. Love is not
there either. I didn’t know
how much I had been
trying to find it, in how
many places. But here,
nearly overpowered, not
knowing how to get from
here to there,
I go inside of myself. I bring
it home. I breathe. I look down
and realize I can take
one step. A few steps
later, the small stones
turn into hearts. Not one
or two. I notice that a bed
of heart stones are guiding
me up the mountain. All
I had to do was know I
had exhausted all other options.
Stop running from myself.
And there she was. Love,
to guide me. – TS

All the Brilliant Things

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sometimes
i want to gather
the most exquisite patterns
the most transporting paintings
like a mural-sized piece of outsider art
I found once by a Japanese artist in Toronto
that put a lifetime of colour and emotion onto one plane
together with the books
that fold all the way through time
that i can only spread out in my imagination
and it is not a spreading out so much as
a tunneling through, an accordion expansion
so that i can traverse them as i would
a dense forest trail in which everything lives
and also every loved one
i would like to gather
all of this brilliance around me
like a pile of crisp autumn leaves
and I’d like to take a deep breath at dawn
and finally, finally understand what i have,
and say thank you for waiting, and dive right in. TS

Perfect Now

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Eyes shut until
you’re up close
and can smell
the musky fragrance
 
Of life that has
been through life,
that has breathed
in the shadows
 
And gasped for air
and also sung
from the tops
of mountains and
 
Remembered to
praise the sun
that washes it all
with fluid joy
 
Eyes open to
find it all, the history
and the smallest bits
full of perfect now. -TS

A Little Piece of Me

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her brow
beaded with
sweat,
tendrils of hair
clinging to her skin,
afraid to
look ahead,
her eyes fix
on the trail
of thistles, dried
pebbles and moss,
and she trips
anyway,
her mind
buzzing with
the crickets
and cawing
with the birds
confused about
coming or going,
which brings
her to the sea
and to her place
on the shore,
trembling on
loose sand
caged, somehow,
beneath all that
vast sky,
never certain
which of the
world’s horizons
to claim. – TS