Let’s Journey Together

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We’re heading there now
the sky, a blue sheen,
or maybe the rain gods
are giving us a day of grey
 
We’re speeding there,
so fast we are learning
we never really had a say
in the great unfolding at all
 
We’re turning corners,
and the wind on our skin
is a delirious awakening
as we glide around the bend
 
We are remembering our way,
we are finding our protection,
we are digging deep for hope,
we are making it together. – TS

The Way of Us

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Sometimes I think
that if I could find
a way to walk,
which is to say,
to be in this world
in such that
a bird would land
on my head and
feel comfortable
perching there
day after day …
 
I do know that
it would take more
than the straight
back of statuesque
serenity of perfect
posture to get
the bird to stay.
It would, at the
very least, take me
understanding
the nature of things.
 
I would have to
feel in my bones
that it is the bird’s way
to migrate, and use
these gorgeous wings
of theirs to sail through
skies rough and calm,
just as it is a stone’s
way to live their place
through time, and our
way to wish for both. – TS

Forgetting and Finding

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I might at times
dwell in the land
of forgetting
 
The moss growing
under rock,
the wind telling stories
 
The grass keeping
my feet warm, the
quilt of sky too
 
This is when the
inky specter of
thought takes over
 
Forging a world that
veils the true colour
and sound of things
 
And takes me along
a route that my
heart cannot follow
 
Until I hear the bellowing
cry and become aware
of all I have forgotten
 
And now my heart has
found her audience,
and she will not let go
 
And nor do I want her to,
she, so fierce, beautiful
and wise, when broken too
 
She opens the most
ornate gates on all the vistas,
she lights the brightest stars
 
And it feels we, us and
world, have always been
waiting for this this moment
 
Waiting, with perfect patience,
and this, I have come to see,
is the love that saves us. – TS

Dependence Arising

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They call it negative space,
a void so large it takes on
the qualities of fullness,
it draws attention.
The emptiness of form,
the form of emptiness.
And then we think
of opposites and duality,
of what is supposed to be
and what never is.
And then, maybe,
we come to this:
to the recognition
of a beautiful flower,
small, alone, newly fallen,
still in the grips of her vitality,
upon a pavement marked
with the imprints of those
who have made it,
and the many who have
tread upon is surfaces,
and whichever comes
into the mind first,
they are both us,
and they are both not us,
and we are all
dependent on each other. -TS