For Love, Always Love

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It is never a case
of the absence of love.
As long as there are eyes seeing,
there is the slow drift to beauty,
the sigh of relief of finding
our dearest hopes confirmed,
and this is love.
As long as there are voices singing,
there is an invisible, potent thread
connecting the very heart of the world
to the very heart of our selves,
and this can only be love.
As long as there are hearts breaking,
there knowing we are in the wake
of a full surrender to love,
and now, a day for new surrender,
nothing to do, everything to feel,
and this is full, complete,
sweet, never-ending love.
And love makes love.
In breath, each moment,
to the last.

– tammy takahashi

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March for our Lives: A Poem

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What are we holding onto,
so tightly?
When we have our guns
and won’t let go,
what are we afraid to lose
that hasn’t already
been annihilated?
We are scared to death.
We are scared of death.
We are letting the living die,
we are not honouring the dead
when our actions are not
on the side of the living.
Let us march, all of us,
wherever we are,
however we can.
This march, for our lives,
is a plea, a cry, a rally
to the makers of change,
but let us not stand divided.
Let us remember our lives,
our unity, the one life
that threads through us all.
Let us honour every living being,
here and departed and not yet come,
with every single last
shred of hope within us.
Let us build on this honour
so that it grows to fill the world
with respect and reverence for all,
and for ever possibility.

– tammy takahashi

Spring, Our Beautiful Perfection

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On a diffuse grey morning,
late winter surveys the barren landscapes
of hardened essence and wisdom in retreat,
holding on, but loosening its arthritic grip,
allowing soft rain to gather, fall, in snow’s stead.
The buds have not sprouted,
but the plum blossoms, which thrive
in the dance between cold and warm,
herald the wonderland of life to come,
like a promise, like a dream,
like nothing other than the beauty of what it is.
What will the spring bring?
Will we emulate nature and come forth,
with no hesitation at all,
on the side of creation?
Will we be soft on our struggles,
tender with our pain,
and grow into our full and vibrant potential?
Will we reclaim the intuitions
buried golden and deep for millennia,
long submerged by our own wintry confusions,
and play with what nourishes us?
Will we laugh, touch the earth,
look each other deep in the eye?
Will we celebrate the new season
and the new beginnings it offers,
in the way of the quiet lands around us,
that call for silence, which is reverence,
and a stilling of our heart’s great stirrings,
as the perfection of life once again emerges?
Will we heed of the extraordinary peace
and cooperation it takes to rebuild the world?
 
– tt

Seeing Peace

mandala of love (from one of our wedding photos)

like pouring love
over an open field
 
or making hot tea
made of comfort
 
finding moss
made of patience
 
an elixir of innocence
in freshly-fallen snow
 
like the sun turning
flitting leaves to gold
 
like a hug that
changes the world
 
we make our way there
through here and now,
 
tinting what we find
with our aspirations,
 
inflecting these with
our every action,
 
so that we can see hope
so that we can touch peace. – TS

Joy to Fear to Love

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The palpitating in our hearts is fear.
The shaking of our limbs is shock.
The knots in our neck are frozen indecision.
The tension in our shoulders is the weight of the world.
The constriction in our throats is helplessness.
The ache in our joints is the control we never had.

And yet, it is also this.

The look on our faces is hope.
The glimmer in our eyes is joy.
The smile on our faces is optimism.
The daydreaming we do is for a good tomorrow.
The bond between us is our link to the future.
The hands reaching out to everyone else is love.

And it is not as easy as making the choice.
But it is as simple as accepting them both.- TS

The First of Spring

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a flutter, a kiss

a hummingbird

singing to the breeze

it glides upon

 

a caress, a giggle,

skin coming alive

under what feels daily

like a brand new sun

 

a wink, a smile,

the sparkle in your eye

as you sprint and laugh,

awakening from deep slumber

 

a wish, a hope, a dream,

these are what emerge

along with the sprightly buds

heralding the first of spring. – TS