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
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Your Smiling Gaze

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Take your gaze far,
There is always so much to see.
And maybe you don’t take your mind
on a journey to the past,
where epics and legends gone by
want to sweep you off your feet
until you fall, like Alice did, down
to where nothing will fit the same.
Maybe you don’t surrender your mind
to the distant future, which,
like all the galaxies in the cosmos,
form the most entrancing worlds,
maybe the scariest ones too,
that, no matter how much you want to,
you cannot bring your fingers to touch.
Maybe, as you cast your gaze to glory,
bringing that contented smile to your face,
you are finding yourself in the position of things,
feeling your heart beat the tune of your life,
the thrum echoing the earth’s great pulse,
and maybe you come into this great force,
with a moment of recognition: I am here,
I am fully awake to this moment. I am. I am.
 
– tt

How About Just For Now

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How about, just for now,
this one small moment,
nothing but this:
As far as I can see,
the world as a history of origins,
life coming into being,
and I dissolve right into
a time that predates me,
and the greens are readying
for the birds that will land for rest,
the sweet supple leaves plump and open,
and the sky, our shelter and window,
has not yet had to bear witness to the atrocities,
the trees are not yet scorched or felled.
But I do not have to travel in time
or let my imagination take over.
I can be braver.
I can stay.
I can let what is, is.
And I can look at my fear
until it turns into love.

– TT

We are Beautiful Now

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Imagine if life were just a little longer,
so that we could paint more of our experiences
onto the unfolding landscape perpetually receding
deeper and deeper into our expansive distance

 

(before we can grab it, never to let go).

 

Imagine if life were just a little shorter,
so that we could rest those worries on holy ground,
about how to prepare for all that inevitable time,
the interminable stretch of years to be filled

 

(that we still fear, if we are honest, losing).

 

Imagine if just like that, the perspective shifts,
and life were exactly what it was, and we as we are,
and notions of time faded into the beautiful ether
as we found ourselves reaching no further than here

 

(Imagine the happiness of living embodied and true).

– TT

– TT

Stay With Me

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the temptation
is great, to sweep
it all aside with the mind’s
roving eye,
to push through
to go forth
to dwell in the land
of the other,
where daisies grow
from our hair
and the nymphs sing
playfully in our ears
 
the trick, i guess, the work:
not to take our wandering
feet too far, to tumble
with great zeal
into the abyss we imagine,
to cling to the idea of
‘through’, and ‘over there’,
and ‘beyond’, instead of
trying to be here,
the heart of things,
from where we come,
and can go so far. – TS

I am Here

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The day that lumbers on
The life that slips right past
 
And what of in-between?
No dragging on or rushing by
 
But the breathtaking pause.
The moment of, “I am here.”
 
Maybe my shadow slants long,
Or maybe it’s a shadowless noon.
 
Maybe there is verdant splendor
Or maybe there is me, in my body,
 
Breathing in and breathing out,
As my skin cushions the breeze.
 
And I am not dreaming, or hoping
Because it is all already here, inside,
 
And when I face the fear, and look,
I’m overcome: how very full it is. – TS