December 14th, 2005

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The Moon!

The moon is such a presence this time of year. It fills our bedroom at night with light. The tides are full, and around here, the bike path may be under water, and even the roads if it rains during the full moon. The pull of moonlight is strong, as the sun rests to the south, before its return.

The New Yorker cover this week is of Santa in a bathing suit with a red and green life buoy and he and his reindeer are struggling to stand, each on their own piece of ice. The polar bears are threatened by global warming, as are islanders, and Bush continues to deny there is a problem.

Tomorrow night is the full moon, the Divine Feminine, lit fully in the winter sky. I imagine she picks Bush up by his pants and give him a spanking, a light one, because I don't really believe in spanking. I also think it would be just if there was one piece of coal in his stocking on Christmas morning, or, perhaps, a tiny solar light or a windmill, since we shouldn't be pulling any more coal from our earth.

Tonight, each night, we have these sacred winter nights, and the stars. How can we not be pulled out of ourselves by the brightness of these winter stars? And the colors of the trees. One of our trees is still losing leaves and in the dusky light the color is such that I feel kneaded, like dough, by the light.
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When no one is looking,
I swallow deserts and clouds
and chew on mountains
knowing they are sweet bones!
When no one is looking,
and I want to kiss God,
I just lift my own hand
to my mouth.

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How Do I Listen?

Again, Hafiz speaks, as translated by Daniel Ladinsky.

        How Do I Listen?

                 Do I
        Listen to others?
As if everyone were my Master
        Speaking to me
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Morning flow of poems -

Nourishment  - December 14, 2005

winter -
oatmeal for breakfast,
with dried cherries, cranberries,
and cinnamon from
Ceylon -

and now, a pink sky
after an almost full moon -
coffee, leaves floating
in a titillating drift
down my throat -

that pink glimpse,  brief -
how many moments missed
when I refuse or simply forget
to look outside
and be -

an owl now,
too awakened
by this display
to sleep -

it’s like the sky
is one huge leaf
and we ride the veins
like water and sap,
the creek




 People look at homes near me,
     wanting to buy,
     and they are ferocious
     in wanting to know
    what the weather will be.
“What time does the fog clear each day,” they ask.
    I look up at the sky, and reply,
         How is it where you are now?
     Can you predict rain, heat, cold, snow?
        How can you ask such a question?
            Weather is not a can of paint
                     shaken and sprayed
             with the same coat each year.
                Why would you want to know?
            Isn’t it more of a treat to wait and see,
                      what the fog decides to do.
                             It goes in and out,
                                 comes and goes,
                            like what you feel inside,
                                 when you sink into your flow,
                                           like now -
                                                 How is the light -



Window washing my insides,
I feel the glass as it cleans and slides,
the blades that glide,
as I squeak my way
to knowing
clarity and transparency,
as guide -



I Keep Asking     

Am I feeling it enough?
The space, the air,
what’s inbetween -
Am I all there for it?
The place where fire ignites
the branch
that lived and died,
to give me heat, light,
and fuel -
Am I here
for the living within,
the fairy dance of the cells
waving their wands
like swings -
Am I here to fully feel,
the translation letting go,
to a cup,
in which I drink,
the womb,
of being known -
am I here -
am I grown -




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Sunrise - Sunset!

When students commit to Angeles Arrien for a year of study, she requests that they commit to watching the sun rise, and the sun set, each day.

I am thinking this would make a wonderful New Year's Resolution for me. In the Bay area, because of the hills, we have many chances to watch the sun rise and set. If you miss one, move a little, and see another. One could see many sunrises and sunsets in a day, so committing to one each day is not so much, and imagine, what it will mean to me, and the sun, and the sky.