I, Between Ground and Sky

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I am my contradictions;
I am not my contradictions.
You will find me here,
a little too far away, maybe,
from the depths of the ocean floor,
where movement is unweighted grace,
and the talking, deep and sonorous
and capable of stretching for miles,
exactly and quietly where it needs to go;
a little too removed, maybe,
from the vast blanket of sky,
that knows how to stay,
that holds space for shifting clouds
suspended, it seems to me,
in a state of satiation and whimsy,
unburdened by their responsibility
to nourish us, to not fall right down
before their job is done;
and there is no clashing of the clouds,
is there, only seamless integration.
I am not in one place or the other,
and before I can determine what this means
about where I am,
my mind drifts like the sea creatures and the clouds,
chasing colours I am sure I have forgotten.
But I remember –
it is in my nature, as I try
to find the ground between,
the soft, bold place in the center of my being,
to get caught between two places
now and then as I journey through
the realms of hope and hunger and despair,
to love and hold the untruths that
have made me, and regard them, and let go,
as I make my unhurried movement,
like the dolphins do,
toward grace.

– TT

Image may contain: sky, cloud, twilight, outdoor and nature
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The Way of the Sun

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I see, in the miraculous way
the sun makes her sure descent,
 
my own place in this world.
The sun gives us this gift
 
In her sure movements, regal
and decisive, sweeping across
 
lands in constant invitation.
I stand and watch the sky
 
sigh plush and heavy at dusk,
heaving at the last letting go
 
in tufts of orange, grey and pink.
I, too, sigh, with the weight of
 
the undone, my heart hammering
in her caged dome, unlike the
 
sun before me, a fireball ablaze
with the potential for all that is,
 
offering me, even now, her golden
embrace. I stand before the mountain,
 
shaking at the wonder of all the ways
in which I am here, and not here, and
 
I take it. The sun’s persistent rotations
that allow my fluttering, fledgling
 
trajectories. Warning of the dark,
soothing, always again, with her light.
 
– TS