Uncategorized

Walking Baby’s Journey

Taking baby steps these days,

they hurt less than leaps and bounds.

 

An unusually negative way of saying:

small steps feel more contenting right now,

than larger plans for different memories.

 

What are these larger plans for different memories

you back away from right now?

How might you hang onto this dream

or avoid this nightmare

while continuing with your contented smallish steps?

 

Could you write and story-tell yourself through both messages,

perhaps nesting one within the other,

usually the smaller steps within the larger praxis and storyline

like a personal journal entry,

nested within each Earth Day headline.

 

Of which hopes and dreams is your life iconic,

as it is,

and becomes obvious by simply unweaving your story backward,

back through Earth’s spacetime enculturing history.

How you are different and the same as your grandmother

is the most recent episode in your epic

of how you are different and the same as Grandmother Moon,

is the most recent episode

in the universal epic

of how you are different and the same as  your Elder cousins,

Sun and Earth,

Yang on Yin, yet again,

Fire’s dynamic effect on Water’s self-absorptive evaporation.

 

Let’s Spring those Baby Steps, girl!

Read more at: http://www.poetrysoup.com/member_area/soup_mail.aspx?PoetID=21797&subject=Re–Dear+Gerald%2c+&MID=265395

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Uncategorized

Silent Psalm

I long to write a silent song;

ringing resonant rising

round revolving reach,

risk relaxing riots,

quiet storming streams,

sentient string

waiting your

our

sharing story,

advent’s adventure

deep despair diving

diastolic drifting

out beyond sonorous sea seasons

sweeping flight to gather might,

speaking slyly deep

down steaming volcanoed channels

reaching roots of listening

into Earth’s core chi-soul.

 

Speak, justly shout enchanting contention

churning charry content,

informating reasons

fine-purposed meanings

boiling funnel tipping

turning spinning

spilling waves of Tao balance

revolving temperamental cross,

straining yang from West to East

reversing yin from East to West

like longing lingering

loitering within belonging

becoming being

yin’s right spins left

good’s evil space

wrestling voices

murmuring

pulsing

massaging rhythm’s blood flows

flying frequencies

echoing past identities

of storms still-dancing

through memory’s veins

and river swollen

spring’s raucous roaring

songs singing silence

I long to write.

 

 

 

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