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Settling

Settling into love
for a person
for a sacred place
fertile
organic
rich growing space

Easy when felt
obviously
warmly
positively
copassionately
robustly returned

Difficult when mean
selfish
cruel
cold indifference
perpetuates competing
to not further communicate
multi-sensory win/lose
zero-sum rules

Less golden than intending win/win

Unlikely to age gracefully
cooperatively
happily
healthily
safely
steadfastly saving
positive protagonist
panentheistically felt sacred faced
fast-paced race
through insufficient reconnecting time

Settling into fear
against another angry person
against an anxious all-consuming place
threatening deadening space

Easier to be hard
to speak cruel
cold indifference

Forgetting impractical win/win curiosity
possibly both unorthodox and unsafe
cooperative economic co-investments
and politically transparent
vulnerable golden rules
predicting virtuous grow
of win/win co-passionate choice-making
for lose/lose Trauma
unconditional healthy-warm
and positively safe
from win/lose predative
degenerating toward lose/lose harm
for lack of win/win resilient
unconditional warm charm

Settling into love
for each interdependent person
for each polypathic sacred place
fertile recreation
organic speciation
rich growing
our neurosystemic healthy space.

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Uncategorized

Sibling Tree

What will happen next?

she said.

And why.

he asked,

and so it went all day.

“What’s next?” she asked.

“And why?” he said.

 

Let’s climb a tree and learn it home;

safe place to grow a branch for flight

to fly through night and dream all day.

To pretend at work,

not work to play.

 

Why screw around?

Is flight not real?

And working play feels play-full

when trees are true

and branches balance birdnests

floating toward this stringish green-field Earth.

 

I fear what will happen next

she asks.

And why

he says.

and so it goes through life.

“What’s next?” she fears.

“And why?” he fails to reassure.

 

Let’s build a house high as the sky.

We’ll play on clouds and they on us

til vegeburgers rain like cars

too fast to find us

high above this tangled weedish plot.

 

Clouds feel good for rest

but not for forts.

The sun burns clouds like cars burn trees.

Let’s fall beneath a flower pot

and kiss her rooted tendrils

to grow full measured

good and true and real and wondrous

shade trees gracing fertile plots.

 

What will happen next?

she asks.

And why? he asks again.

And so it goes.

What’s next…

Why?…

 

Dedication: To Kerry

7/13/2014

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