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.

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I am the River

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There is no river

I’ve never seen

As the water moving,

Sometimes still

And sometimes restless,

Through the vessel

Of my own body,

Crashing against

The turbulent,

Mountainous mass

Of my heart

That is never still,

Even as it plants

In the center of my being,

Roots ancient and wise,

Ready to bear

The tides of cries

Of thousands of years

As they come, now,

To sublimate

In this very moment,

But I am ready;

This is what I’ve been

Preparing for.

I am the river;

I am the rock.

I am the emotions

Of all these centuries;

I am the one

Witnessing them,

Loving, letting go.

The river becomes

The ocean that meets

The fabled horizon.

We see in ourselves

Not what we were,

Not what we will be,

But our perfect selves,

Already here,

And we could never be

Anything, anywhere else.

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

I Am A Body

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along the banks
i am a body
scant against a breeze
flowing in the directions
 
holding a worn cloth
i am a body
blinded by midday sun
and truths are emerging
 
in the blazing sun
i am a body
untamed and uncontained
generous with my fire
 
on the river’s surface
i am a body
glinting and radiating
moving but not restless
 
in the river rocks
i am a body
unwavering and true
as time moves around me. – TS