The Sunflower

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I would like to bring
my soft-hearted eye
to the great sunflower,
that lion and lioness,
each one of which
forms a cosmos,
its ring of life inside
harboring infinite pathways
outward from
source we seek,
its bright yellow invitation
to come closer,
to travel beyond
the velveteen mane
of petals,
to land on the sacred
cushion within,
but just as I am readying
to fly,
my soft-hearted eye
finds another,
and now there are two,
and I don’t know
which way to go,
and if I close my eyes,
I fear annihilation
before destination,
dissolution before union,
fear itself before love.
Then, a voice of power
speaks from within:
this is your journey,
and you can always re-frame.
And so I try: not to isolate,
or close off my view,
but to widen it all,
until it is One.

The Beauty of Loss

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A memory is not
a hole
or an empty space
creating fissures
in the wind,
anymore than a flower
is its missing petals
that discovered
their time to say
goodbye.
Why is it we look
and regard the world
from a place of
such wholeness,
only to complicate
what is absent,
or no more?
It is the full vitality
of what is
that allows even
for our experience
of loss.
We are always
what is. – TS