The Gold is You

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The silence is gold.
The words carefully chosen,
they are golden too.
The gilded edges of youth;
our nostalgia,
which turns everything we had to gold.
And the path that we walk,
as we birth ourselves
into a new life, a new mind,
and a warrior heart for the times,
is it gold-flecked and is it pure?
Can you find the places within
that have tarnished
through our fear of being hurt again,
and can we make them gleam again
with a fierce self-love
more difficult to achieve
than any other kind of victory,
and with compassion for all beings,
the ones ahead of you,
guiding your forward,
and the ones behind you,
who look to you and smile,
and take comfort in the possibility
of reaching destinations,
and extending the horizon
until we are all gazing at it,
from one giant shared space, together?
The sun, our greatest remind of what is gold,
and gives its golden nature so freely.
The gold us Us. The gold is you.
 
– Tammy Takahashi
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A Prayer, A Soft Place to Land

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Our prayers are not for we and they;
We pray because we want to know,
Finally, that the soft and loving places
Where prayers land know no division.
There are places all over the world,
Across the entirety of the map of one heart,
Where we can travel to, wayward at first,
But with increasing sense of purpose,
That will greet us like the loved ones
We now, after ages, know that we are.
They are shrines large and small
Decorating the most modest of habitats,
Honouring the dead and reminding us
That we have never walked alone;
They are the colours, sounds and textures
We can finally recognize for what they are,
Unique as the moon to our stargazing hearts
To our experience of being human,
So that we will never overlook them again.
We close our eyes, join hands together,
We stand where we are, in silent tears,
And know the prayer has brought us here,
The prayer is all around us, ancient, wise,
That it created the conditions of our lives.

– Tammy Takahashi

Two Minds, One Love

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The side looking left, then right,
Lowered to the ground, skybound,
To the child inside, the world wide,
Here and there, this ever-motion,
For every turn, a revolution awaits,
The answers around every corner.
But what do we seek? What ails us?
What needs persistently plague us?
Can we make our two heads one,
Our two sets of eyes, ears, our two minds?
Will we stop pinning on the world
Every last desire and hope,
All our sadnesses turned to blame?
Or, can we see how we’ve become,
and find some peace with our two selves,
And try to find all the ways
They copulate, love, hate, entwine,
And dive right into the middle of things,
And become the war we want to end,
Until at last, it turns to dust,
Leaving our most bare self exposed,
And tarnish it will, though gold remains?

– tammy takahashi

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

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

My Peace Anthem Today

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Sometimes life
is just one big plush
nearly impossible blend of
gorgeous sunset hues, yellow too,
gathered not like armies but like trees,
not like missiles but like bamboo shoots,
not like things imprisoned but connected,
not signatures of doom but of wonder,
ready, haven’t we always known it,
to get fire, to be our fire,
to get lit.
 
– tt

On Remembering Who We Are.

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Maybe you are tired (you are not alone).
The brightness, the lighness of step
receded, past resistance, to memory.
It’s been like this maybe for years;
you’ve stopped just shy of wondering
what happens between the early years
of boundless joy and laughter, and now,
and why and how and by whose design
we’ve come to decide on a version of life
less saturated, sparkling and true.

But something stirs. It is inside you,
a gem that cannot be buried long.
It pulses, takes you on the first steps
of a journey you could not have known.
There you are, as if grace itself appeared
to lift the veil, and so you do. And see,
you are standing, has it always been like this?
On the lost wing of stunning remains:
a one-winged butterfly, larger than any legend,
resting for awhile on a mount only rising.

-tt