The Gold is You

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The silence is gold.
The words carefully chosen,
they are golden too.
The gilded edges of youth;
our nostalgia,
which turns everything we had to gold.
And the path that we walk,
as we birth ourselves
into a new life, a new mind,
and a warrior heart for the times,
is it gold-flecked and is it pure?
Can you find the places within
that have tarnished
through our fear of being hurt again,
and can we make them gleam again
with a fierce self-love
more difficult to achieve
than any other kind of victory,
and with compassion for all beings,
the ones ahead of you,
guiding your forward,
and the ones behind you,
who look to you and smile,
and take comfort in the possibility
of reaching destinations,
and extending the horizon
until we are all gazing at it,
from one giant shared space, together?
The sun, our greatest remind of what is gold,
and gives its golden nature so freely.
The gold us Us. The gold is you.
 
– Tammy Takahashi
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One Golden Evening

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And as sun goes down tonight,
I do not think of all those things
that will lay in surrender, to rest,
or wonder where they’ll go, if,
like the dazzling golden jewel
lowering into the silken waters,
they will seem to lower themselves
with great gentility, straight through
to the other side of the world,
where they will find their ground
of great comfort, dignity, grace.
I do not think of the black night
that is waiting behind the veil
of this grand spectacle of in-between,
or the moon that will ascend
to illumine the deepening cracks
between each of our aging bones,
each with her thousand stories
imbued with the powerful promise
to witness, create, destroy.
Instead, I divest myself of these,
I stand naked between sun and moon,
between here and where it all goes,
flooded with the play of now and then
on this body, sanding here, now,
shivering with winsome delight
because suddenly, nothing remains
but one golden evening that
knows every star, every flower,
every flight and every fall,
and it is all me, and it us all us
reflected here, making it whole.
 
– tammy takahashi

We Are Gold: A Poem

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our gilded days
and we are –
an imperfect yet holy
refraction
caught in our desires
that come down to this:
to be whole
to be loved,
and the mistakes we make
in the way we cannot
recognize
that we are not what is
left over, incomplete,
searching,
no, we are a reflection,
illumined and pure,
of the vastest space
we can imagine,
and I envision this,
as I my eye catches the spark
of the sun glinting off
gold leaf
on sacred temple grounds:
I don’t have to transport myself
anywhere
for my transmutation.
I am here
with everything that is,
and I will stay here,
until I understand that
love seeps through me
the way the moon
bleeds her light into the sky,
unhindered, abundant,
limitless, moving mountains and seas
with nothing but
inner light.
– TS

The Gold

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moving slowly around
circumnavigating holes
the contents of which
have been pined and longed for,
taking tender first steps
not for the first time,
but again and again
 
(the nature of hope)
 
circling like a tiger might
or a lioness around her prize
with the patience of still waters
or a growing moon
for the time that gaps fill
and mysteries reveal
and what is believed is seen. – TS

The Gold of Day {Poem}

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I edge closer to the

Small leaves turning

Autumn red

And dive in

Entranced by the

Velveteen richness,

Become swallowed until

I emerge bounding

On the other side,

Deep in the Himalayan forests,

Among the tall, thin saplings

Where the white fox dog

Has been waiting

For our return,

And leaps over

Panting his joyous breaths

And we sit, side by side,

On the slope of the

Forest mountain

The moist earth our cushion

Watching the sun trickle down

A slow fractal descent

In the gold of day

– Tammy T. Stone