A Travel Poem

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What is the promise of a new journey
if not an awakening of soul’s stirring,
an expansion of the privileges of new dawn,
and the singular experience of renewal
as we search for the morning sun
after night’s dark and restless charms,
and bathe ourselves in the soft heat
that has been all the way around the world
and has so many stories to tell us?
How is it possible not to seek communion
with each of the places the sun has been
that has painted us with all this life?

– Tammy Takahashi

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The House of the World

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What do you find in your house?
Does everything you’ve put there
have its hallowed, rightful place?
Can you move freely and softly?
Does everything serve a purpose,
does it reach for the highest good?
Are the foundations humble,
and also unshakably strong?
Do you feel as though you live
As a mountain creature might,
So closely connected to earth,
While living a skyward journey?
Is everything that you have here
Also something you are offering,
And to whom, and to what end?
Do you look around you and see
that your house is your body
and the body of everything that is?
Will you let the life-giving air in,
and will you let your house breathe,
and make room for the new,
and can we care for the house,
and share the house of the world?

– Tammy Takahashi

Into Nature

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The gift of the outside,

Those parts we have never

Figured out how to take

In their totality,

For our own ends,

The flowers that are not

Sitting in water in a shop

Waiting to greet a loved one,

Someone saddened

Or in anger,

The trees that have not

Been torn down for

Our furniture, our journals,

And who has ever

Even dared to bring

A mountain home?

This is what we must seek.

We must leave our world

Of taking, using,

And throwing away,

And must move

Into the spaces

That have no need for us

Though their love for us

Is pure and unending.

We must bury our noses

in that aromatic space

between rock and soil,

where rain gives life

all of its memories.

We must return home,

Taking nothing with us,

But our wild, forever hope.

The Morning After

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After a night

That lasts forever,

The day has arrived

On the wings of stars

And a half full moon

That arched across

The world

Taking the swells

Of sea and ocean with it

And the heaving

Absorbed our cries

And lifted skin from bone

As we ran and fell,

Looking for what made us.

We nearly didn’t make it,

Now chilled in the morning dew,

Shedding the haunting

Of diffuse, scattered dreams

Flown to serpentine clouds

Clinging to the mountainside,

Where they won’t harm

Anyone, ever again,

And all this,

So that you can stand

On a deserted shore,

Windswept, shattered,

A mass of raging heart,

At the very foot of

The rest of your life.

The Hollows

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In the hollows

Of the mountain range,

Of your sloping back,

Where we want to rest

And the hints are gentle,

Of the magnitude

In our midst, everywhere,

Finally, the delight

In recognizing

The negative spaces

That cast life’s glories

Its turbulent stories

Into the glow of relief,

So that we are,

Again, ready,

Knowing now, again,

Why we are here,

This pause our moment

Seized, to bring back

All the parts of ourselves

We have left behind,

The trails of our

Sacred flight,

To breathe in, out,

Grab hold of the heart

Our compass,

And set out again,

And again,

Until the shadows

No longer scare us,

And the horizon

Is our doorway home.

For our Mothers …

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for our mothers
who have brought us here,
the mothers whose songs
trail the ocean floor
for miles and centuries
as we ache for the beauty
of genesis, origin, her strength,
for the mothers of our mothers,
the mothers waiting to be mothers,
waiting to be …
and we are all daughters
of this one earth,
and we are all mothers
for plumbing the depths
of knowing where we have been
as we mount the steps
to where we are going,
and the love Great Mother
wraps itself around us
as we go ___
 
– tammy takahashi