Earthing

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To make art

of our hands and heart,

resting, finally, where needed

To make love

with the sacred ground

of our unfolding

To make breath

as the earth breathes

her heaves and sighs

To make space

for the seeds of potential

to find their way to light

To make peace

with the past and future

in the terror and splendour of now

To make a home

between life and death

our very place of freedom

 

– Tammy Stone Takahashi

 

By the Window – A Poem of Hope in the time of Coronavirus.

By the Window

By the window,
It looks like any other day,
a particularly beautiful one,
sun shining, clear blue sky,
the snow and ice succumbing
to winter’s end.
It is quiet,
a silence heralding, to me,
a feeling of peace
that is hard to ignore,
or to thwart with logic,
with what I now know.
By the window,
it is just I, the observer
of life being itself,
of steady spruces offering comfort,
of geese flying home,
of hand built wooden furniture
meant to weather
the seasons and the years.
Then the thoughts trickle in,
and the freedom of this moment,
this clear moment of witness
of all that his holy and right
with this world,
threatens to become
a cage for fears and doubt,
which, like the fertile earth
one window away from me,
know well how to grow.
Before this can happen,
I turn to look at the flowers
we have been nurturing inside
these coldest months of the year,
at the scarlet petals blushing with life
that do not sway with the times,
and settle on finding eternity here,
so that I can turn my gaze outside,
and see that eternity cannot depart.
The geese know it,
in their homeward movement,
and if we can sit within the stillness
of a new day beginning,
despite, and even though,
and gather every last beating heart
into our own,
we too can become the world,
and in it find we are home.

– Tammy Stone Takahashi

I Overheard a Conversation Today

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I overheard a conversation today.
It was between one bird and another
Saying the sky has changed.
It was between both birds
And the topmost leaf of a tree
Asking if the tree was lonely.
It was between this one leaf
And all the other leaves of the tree,
Wondering why they were still safe
Amid the wreckage, knowing
As they do, there is no separation.
It was between one forest
And all the other forests of the world,
A collection of missed connections
And feverish work in overdrive,
So that we may go on breathing,
All of them imbued with knowing,
The way we know
When our most cherished ties
Have been severed,
By the cave-size hole in our hearts,
Growing to consume the world.
It was between the dismembered roots
Of the forest and the rocks above,
Those silent sounding boards
For millennia of secrets,
Those records of our living and dying.
It was between me and you.
Trying to know what to do.
Reaching out our hands
As though together we could
Wrap ourselves around the world
And love it whole again.
– Tammy Takahashi
Please share! Let’s make a difference! Let’s save our planet! Any inquiries: tammystoneshare@gmail.com.

Beautiful, Tree

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What is the story
you have to tell,
what are the moments
of your life
carved onto your skin
and bone?
Tall you stand,
a totem,
a witness to our age,
how much of us
do you mirror,
as you try to give
all of yourself
to a world
that has forgotten you?
The tears, the stains,
the marks of time,
the sinewy curves,
the shades
impossible to be
replicated. Your beauty.
Your beauty,
The shape of loss,
the presence of life
folding in, growing tall.
What of myself
Am I trying to find in you?
How much do you
have to do alone, now,
because you’ve been
severed at the root
from so many of your
brothers and sisters?
I see a topography,
an archeology,
an entire world
as I look at you,
but maybe I don’t need
to reach so far.
Maybe I just need
to close my eyes,
and wrap my arms around you,
or sit, my back
to your long body,
and feel this moment
that is sun and rain,
that is dawn and midnight,
our stake in this world,
that is always
both here and forever.

– Tammy Takahashi

Your Voice is My Favorite Sound

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Your voice is my favorite sound.
In the silence, I find my searing pain
before it dissolves and all that remains
is the sweetest kind of love.
In the forest, our great earth’s quiet
is accompanied by beauty
that is almost too much to bear,
revealed in part through choral hymn:
the rustling leaves, the faintest bustle
of insects in their homes under rocks.
I am tired. I sit with my back
against a great grandfather tree
and can feel all his brothers and sisters
rush in together to replenish me
and the sound can almost be missed,
but it contains every wisdom
and the secrets belong to all of us.
It could be hours or days
that it takes for me to return to myself,
and connect to my heartbeat
that is part of the lullaby of the woods.
Then, when I am ready, I emerge,
and you are new through my softened eyes,
and you have never changed at all.
We clamor and desire and aspire,
and your voice is my favorite sound.

– Tammy Takahashi

An Invitation

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This is an invitation
for you to find the space
to sit, to feel the salve
of everything that grows
and is, so that you, too,
can have your place here
 
But it is also a reminder
that everywhere you go,
and it will be far, and long,
you will find the best part
of yourself lying in wait,
so you can discover again.
 
– Tammy Takahashi

Enter the Unknown

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The forest is speaking;
the trail calls out to me.
The trees communing,
and inviting me in.
The fog, too, beckons,
as it lives among the wild,
visiting, it seems,
from another realm,
obscuring the way
to teach me patience,
because I always
want to know more,
and teaching me
how to change the view
by removing, gently,
with nothing but softness,
everything I might have
expected to find,
or desired to have before me.
This act of disappearance,
of a world I am too inclined
to judge, discern,
and lose myself in,
brings what remains closer;
here I am, it seems to say,
right in front of you,
close enough to give you
a lifetime of discoveries,
and it is and sublime,
and there is nothing else
until the next moment,
and the next. Have faith;
enter the dewy morning,
and with each step,
the way will gift itself
to you. Stop thinking ahead,
my love, and allow
the great movement to unfold.
 
– Tammy Takahashi

The Wind … the Wind

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The wind, surrounding us
with the sum total
of all the conversations
we’ve had from ancient times
until now, hushed, still,
animated, violent and awed,
and yet, it is the power
of the wind to distill
from our human fragility
all that is sacred, warm,
and flowing in all directions
from our one true heart,
and sometimes this sound
amounts to a gale in the night,
and others, a whisper
by a pond in the heart of day,
a gentle coaxing,
a giggle that beguiles,
a secret that is not a secret
at all, infusing us with
its wisdom, saying this:
You are all that has come before,
You are all that will be,
You, like I, have been everywhere,
And even in silence, you breathe
In your desire to take what is One,
Which is Love, to the edge
of all things, and beyond.
Love is the way; you are the carrier.
You are the the wind; the wind is you,
Communing with oceans and sky,
Rivers and rocks, mountains and birds.
It is all one thing, a progression of love
From the inside out, up and around
From our one never-ending heart,
To the very heart of the world.
 
– Tammy Takahashi

You Are Sunshine

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You already are; I already am.
And you didn’t have to achieve
anything at all, fulfill anyone’s
dreams or expectations of you.
That is not how sunshine works,
it does not work, or struggle to be
light enough, bright enough,
it does not carry the weight of all
of the world’s shadows on it.
Sunshine does not strive,
but comes into our sphere
already imbued with its own
perfection, and we know this;
we see how it rises, and falls,
and rises again, and we imagine
glee and ease, or pain depending on
how we have woken up today.
The sun does not apologize
as it dances with shadows
as dawn becomes day, then dusk,
without fueling them, or willing
them away, no, this is not
the way of the dance of connection;
they depend on each other,
and for this, we get our moments
in the dark, we get the balm
of shade, we get our sustenance
in this wondrous interplay,
and we never have to doubt
how shadows move, and change,
or how the sun, above, arcs too,
with the sole purpose of spreading
light, offering this solace
in the face of all shadows.
The sun has always done this,
does it still, our inspiration to bring
to each of our given moments.

– Tammy Takahashi

We are in This Together

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If it is an echo that you seek,
a far-off cry, resounding and important,
reverberating off the storied walls
of ancient times, if you are reaching
very nearly into the great void
hoping to hear the sounds
emerging, muffled and true,
in the great winds that have brought us
everything we know and hold dear
from places we may never go
and people we might never meet,
or be, if we are straining to hear
the sounds containing all that wisdom,
and we will sacrifice everything
we know, for that which we don’t,
if fear has turned into determination
and the seedlings of love keep growing,
then know: you are being listened to,
you are heard, felt, seen, and loved.
You will not fall. We are seeking together.
 
– Tammy Takahashi