Our Freedom

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To see, and not know what

We are so terribly seeking,

What profound simplicity

There can be between the eyes

That are gazing and the world,

The gazed upon, the beloved,

If we let it. If we let it be.

What a pure, unfettered love

It can be, this relationship

Between we who want to know,

And the eternally, sagely known.

Let us forego the violence

Of our need to cast ourselves aside

To be in the arms of love.

Let us instead turn the gaze inward,

Unflinching, even when it hurts,

And throw so much love here

That we cannot help but come awake,

Trembling, excited, for we are here,

In the exact way we need to be,

And we have welcomed ourselves,

So we are finally free.

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To You, with Love

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I look to you,
who knows the way
to plant your feet on the ground
when the world threatens
to dissolve from under you,
to do this with grace and resolve,
with the heart of a warrior,
who not only finds the ground,
but dances and pounds and writhes on it,
staking your claim if only for awhile,
knowing it is not yours,
but that it fully belongs to you,
this earth, this day, this life.
I look to you,
who can settle into your heart
and find space to breathe
in the rattling cage that houses you,
around the canyons of fear and pain,
who can roam around your own body
with interest, curiosity and reverence,
knowing that each, smallest part,
no matter how much it threatens
to overtake you, is your portal
to the most wondrous,
expansive spectacle there is,
your own florid existence.
 
– tt

Welcome to your Garden

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Welcome to the garden of your life.
It’s so pretty here, if you find yourself
taking it all in at exactly the right moment,
when the flowers are in full bloom,
and the sun glints just so through the treetops
and into the lush, verdant space around you.
There is someone praying, maybe it’s you,
for relief from the feeling that everything should stay,
that the worst thing that could happen
is that all of this is going to change.
It is a deep and earnest prayer
that brings tears to the eye
and a deep rattling within the heart cage.
Maybe your eyes were closed, so you open them,
and the sun’s rays have shifted just enough
that the flower petals, as you take note,
have changed their direction to follow
the source of their nourishment.
It’s still your garden; you are still
in its endlessly deep, luxurious confines,
and you’ve never felt more free,
letting the changes do
what they were always going to,
and these transitions around you
are the heralding of life,
it’s coming and changing and going,
and fear that it will all disappear
is the golden emblem of your humanity.
It is your gorgeous humanity,
singing and haunting and taunting,
crying and pleading and laughing.
The garden takes it all in,
has only love to give back.
Take note of your garden; take it all in
with the time you’ve been given.
There is so much being offered,
and it’s all for you.
 
– TT

The One in Two

 

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there is this mind –
this uncertainty over
where to place the gaze,
which step to take
and in what direction
(for me, it is the ever-pull
between the
gilded rise of east
and the heavenly
dusky skies of west)
 
a feeling of being torn –
leaping through
this portal
means so much left
behind, left unsaid
and undone,
so that the life and
blood of where we are
here, now, becomes
a space of absence
 
so here we stand –
and we have a choice,
we can have more
than one view and
our imagination
can fly every which way,
but we can choose
to lift the filter, and
not see two, but live
and love the One.
 
– TS

Come Be the Flower With Me

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when the wondering comes
soft at first, and then like
a howling windstorm
beating on the homestead door
 
and you are as sure
as you have ever been
that you are not what
you are meant to be
 
and that a million
scattered worlds exist
between you and the vision
you had for this one life
 
follow my gaze here,
to the fields and its
bed of springborn flowers
populating the whole world
 
see how their colors are
vivacious, true and pure
and how there is nothing
that can quiet them
 
regard their petals
issuing forth from source
in a dizzying array of
harmonious patterns
 
without notion of end
or completion, without
having to doubt their ability
to unfold in space and time
 
peppering lands with joy
by virtue of presence alone,
which already implies all
magnitudes of being
 
come be the flower with me.
let us mine our own depths
find beauty there, and boldly
give ourselves to the world
 
– TS

Love is Here

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When we remove the word,
what remains?
The word is love.
I walk on the forest floor
that will snake up a mountain
on steps made of stone;
the peak out of view.
The sun, too,
flickers in and out from
among the tall cedar tree tops,
glinting now and then
blinding as she does.
Becoming blinded, as I do.
My heart begins to race.
Go slow, I tell myself.
I know where love is not.
I stumble, my mind takes me
to all the places I’ve failed,
to all the things I have believed
I cannot do. Love is not
there either. I didn’t know
how much I had been
trying to find it, in how
many places. But here,
nearly overpowered, not
knowing how to get from
here to there,
I go inside of myself. I bring
it home. I breathe. I look down
and realize I can take
one step. A few steps
later, the small stones
turn into hearts. Not one
or two. I notice that a bed
of heart stones are guiding
me up the mountain. All
I had to do was know I
had exhausted all other options.
Stop running from myself.
And there she was. Love,
to guide me. – TS