Falling Into sky

I seem to fall through layers of transparent photographs… old songs I cannot remember or forget… words feel familiar and strange… meaning and meaningless rhyme and have no punctuation… love’s heart magic alone speaks a language I can hear… of infinite color and light and shapes… sliding into other liquid shapes without particular boundaries… a watercolor dream singing through my eyes…

and what of the contours of my heart? Are there any lines? How can liquid break? Life is more of a melting, a dissolving, a cascading, a flooding, ocean into ocean, love into love…

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We are poems forming and dissolving simultaneously, we never arrived, we never left, we are here without there,… where deep waters sing, their echoes unfold into this very song we always know… always hear… always dance, yet can never quite remember and never quite forget for the wind forms our eyes our lips our tongues our hearts …ahhh this melody is love sliding into itself… listening to the summer moon…

…And the wind soars through my chest and I hear that which has no name, has no world nor melody, yet is all names all worlds all songs… magically life seems to arise and disappear in a pirouette of wonderment… not fast nor slowly but achingly beautiful in its own time and timelessness… as they chase each other in a spiraling dream… swallowed by rainbows dissolved in the rain, in the wild winds tornado-ing through my chest pouring through my heart your heart, our hearts singing… just like this…

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I awake nestled in the cradle of canyon winds

Swirling spiraling breath of night calms as first light

Bathes the walls with morning

shadows scurry to hide beneath the sage and boulders

Burrowing under the rocky cliffs, waiting…

Echoes of dreams I cannot remember fade

My eyes in the mirror no longer search for what I never knew

Never could put a finger on longing

As it was never separate from me

Not longing to escape this aching beauty of aliveness

Floods this momentary

This obvious marvel

This excruciatingly sumptuous banquet of life…

Grey cat waits for his breakfast

His tail feathering the kitchen floor…

First robin floods into a Symphony of bird song…

Doves float down to the feeders…

The morning weaves and unravels itself

Nothing is left undone

Or done…

Softly

Softly

My breath…

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I was the looking… for one truth one solid thing…one certainty from which I could begin again…

Face the world with a solid base, something to hold onto… a meaning a purpose…

But even the word truth emptied itself into meaninglessness… and that emptied itself into …not even nothing… and the longing for solidity quenched itself

And the wondrousness of simply this aliveness blossomed, leaving no one hanging… no goal to reach… my greatest fear turned out to be

Well, that there was only this… and no that…

oh look! Late afternoon sun dances through the tall windy trees and a ballet of light and shadow slides across the carpet

Hum of the cooler has a rhythm that ebbs and flows

Or is it the ocean

Calling…

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Sky sees itself in this shimmering of ocean…

Sea floods it’s eyes with sky

Falling

Into sky

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This seamless edgeless infinite intimate expanse has no words yet includes all words… it is impossible to hold in your eyes your hands your heart… as it’s not even an it… we reach for words and find our breath our mouths our lips our tongues in the reaching, we find ourselves in the poems we try to articulate yet we never can say any thing really, only add more layers of transparency… a pretense of solidity seems to form, a crust we eventually break through… walking on water wasn’t the goal… reaching the other side… to someone else, to connect, to solidify ourselves was… but we found ourselves floating… soaring…

….ahh the wind asks ‘what am I’ and answers itself… ‘ I am wind… ‘

but that is no answer… all words are defined by yet more words… how can I capture this edgeless love with a word?

What is love? What are these feelings that seem to form me? What is inside the word inside?

How the letters slide off the page as my heart aches…

I can feel the wind on this hot summer day, and cannot find a place where I am not…

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The world sees itself through my eyes… all objectification is mental fabrication… looking through a mirror there is no other side… no sides at all… not out nor in… a baby has to learn how to see, distance and three D are learned…. Where is that owl I heard last night?