fierce grace (23 May 2009)

it is a ferocious story
one that I can’t even begin
to offer the scale of empathy
  it warrants

the acute contraction
  of life and lives
as the story surfaces
and all the fears that ties

themselves to a mother
  to a son, to a sister
   to a daughter (sweet child)
and expresses again

  in fierce mother-love fears
in such a natural response
and yet, in a small way,
I see the grace

  the unbundling of pain
and the pain unbundling
that son brings mother
  (daughter and sister)

God! What a purpose
What a divine love to go through
  this together
How my heart peals to the core

  of nothing left
when I think of your
  karmic play
the karmic run-off

and the karmic love
holding you all together
  beyond this life’s imagination
I am touched

tantra art (22 May 2009)

I am watching you
paint me and you
as a cellular blur

a chakra merge
a tide of colours
  moving in and

outside, boundaries
dissolving, form
melting

  beautiful images
dyeing on your page
after a rush of inspiration

beautiful images
dying in our minds
  like perspiration

I’m laughing at how
this individual spark
You. I. coming together

isn’t a loss of my self, rather
  I am more aware

call this joy (14 May 2009)

we have touched
  every part
of our self

everything triggered
as to collapse
  in one

to call this joy
  is to know that
the plummeting engulfing

sadness
is contained within
  a much larger vessel

self persists (14 May 2009)

I found that vast dot
as a Nothing surrounded
by my inside out

thoughts, kind of bouncing
off a non-existent boundary
like an expression of lovers

surrendering to a vast whole
that can never let me fall
and I am there, in the middle

do I pretend I don’t exist?
how does that dropping away
thought annihilate

itself; drown or burn or simply
  stop?
the attention brings a flurry

thoughts, concepts, ideas
  my self
examining this moment as a dot

because still this self persists

not my will (11 May 2009)

before the spring
eruption of our cosmic newness
there exists a silence

akin to waiting
like possibilities sitting
under the snow

breathing a deeper earth
rhythm, slower than the days
and nights, slower than a storm

cloud, it bides and hums this
dance. I am still
ever growing readiness, frozen

in the highest realms, mountains
growing faster, the whole earth
readying what is underneath

from molten core to the new
alpine flower fluttering its
first fragrance into the wind

of nowhere, there I am
dancing the perfect tempo
of ‘not my will’

the dance has begun (29 April 2009)

I am dancing in the grace of
the unknown
the mysteries of time

and certainty can be
only a glimpse of an
impulse, a spontaneous

decision; pealing laughter
bursting flames, pinecone mandalas
exploding as a lotus ember, residing

in heart, touching fingers,
sudden rainbows, exploring night times,
seeing myself truly, listening

to fat rain, coming up for air
and recognising loss of control
means the dance has begun

take a look (28 April 2009)

pain lives around
lies and unquestioned
truth, take a look

when you know
‘that’s not it’ and
know nothing else

take a look, for
all it is, is a shape
needing to be held

draw no guilt, take
nothing from the wound
simply hold

this sad feeling
this need to express
let tears be tears

I can’t take my eyes off you (23 April 2009)

I have come to a world
where a setting sun drops
in the middle of an ocean
where stars fall like wind on sand

and like a silk dress
wrapped to my legs
I know
  the outline my life will bare

I know
every cell has felt
your smile on me, I can only
show you what you already

have, my love

  I can only leave
when the readiness of light
is the long sparkling night
and your shining eyes

I am made from the stars
I am a constellation you
  know in the palm of your
hand, I am every heart beat in you

laugh for me (it tickles
my soul)
ah the joy is so quiet, I can rest
so still like no horizon every glimpsed

This is worth living for, Yes!
I can’t take my eyes off you

hermit (20 April 2009)

I can see you are listening
by the way you hold your torch
by the way you sound

this new word, it
admonishes you
(yes, you are strong)

you feel it
as a promise to the every
self of you

what is respected in
your aloneness
is respected in every mirror

to stand in front of you
welcome your self, hermit
into this life

your bridge (20 April 2009)

describing a bridge as having
no end
meant only it was too dark
for me to see

it swung through
the wind
and swung again when
you stepped on it

like eternity branded on it’s
footstep, an eon cable braced
your space, something vast
filled you to scale

it swung though you
and it swung again
like a flag celebrating the
  beginning of wind

and you walk the figure eight bridge

light worker (20 April 2009)

it is the perspective of
you standing at the foot
of the tall stone light house

and simultaneously at its
crown, looking out. The
light becomes the foreground

an exclamation mark in
existence, a statement of who
you are, and in the stone corridors

winding up and down
there runs a story of a
man

  a brother
  a boss
  a father

  a boy who forgot how it
   began

and its like clockwork
as one man disappears
another comes to knock

around the cold stairs
and find a way to dim
  the light

it is a constant noise

separation (20 April 2009)

it became sticky
- none of the sadness
would leave -
no matter how old
or forgotten

as old as the womb
in that space before
before an intricate thread of life
moved into a soul
and something got lost

a pattern got formed
out of natal memories
and some before life residue
solidified like the salt of dry eyes
and an unexamined heart

an umbilical chord plugged in
a silent unhappy foetus bolted
– a change of heart -
and now, in service, offers a life healing
cutting, unplugging, dissolving

all (life)time, like I could have been
born differently. In that space
I can find this pain
and needing the brightest
light to drown in it

No soul can survive such a separation

unfortunate (11 April 2009)

is there wisdom
learned from this old woman?
an inheritance through marriage
what can I say except
how unfortunate that I
have no affinity to their
way of possessing, their way
of judging. I will bury this
relationship along side
all the shoulds that drop
like useless items
of clothing and words
I can’t see an
endearing child before me, only
a lot of static and uncomfortable
noise. Oh Mother Mary! Why
am I receiving this?

my wedding day (4 April 2009)

in the morning
the thin veil to spirit
glimmers far off in pre-dawn
I am awake
  wide river awake
to a new husband’s bloodline
passing through my heart beats
a momentous pulse
  (anticipation)
residing in my breath
and out of my skin
the morning is light
I am valleys and mountains
  on earth and reaching
  for all the spirits that come, wishing
   me well, coming as blood, this day
    my wedding

knowing (March 2009)

prior to knowing is the certainty
of not knowing
where is the love I was born to love

the assure-ity of my destiny
waiting
I am born to love

to complete fullness
in a way that my taste buds recognise
in a way the touch of a hongi persists

for life times and I sense it again
before we have a chance to meet
there is certainty

of our love that spun through me
and all I can do is wait
for the recognition

to settle in my mind
(it’s already in my heart)
and when we do meet

I’m not throwing out lines of introductions
but fish hooks
you know me

if only our words can exchange
this vast idea
of a timeless heart

in polite conversation

who ARE you?
has never been such a big question
when the recognition of our self occurs
~
thank you my timeless one
for being so iridescently you
and shining out the light of all home-comings

I love you
in amongst all the unknowing
this is my certainty

proposal (12 Jan 2009)

you sang the world into existence
a sky so silently blue
came and framed your face

as you composed your proposal
the trees rustled their
appreciation, and I think

every (part of this) body
found a reason to say;
when every cell is dancing

in living excitement – when
full glory is expanding and leaking
out my eyes in the misty river

I say YES. I laugh and the sun
is overcome

together we sit on a newly formed
hill, following the golden
globe pass through one horizon

and continue to the middle of crimson
it hovers in boyant anticipation
and sinks in relief, spilling forth

the blushing sky like a warm
swampy smell of
arousal

we sang so many worlds into
existence with that little word
YES

you’re not missing out (12 Jan 2009)

thank you for being honest
for finding time outside
the magic land

where flags are flying high
and the sky is touching
the earth in iridescent blue

thank you for finding your voice
as a knot needing to be
untied, in the sad I love you

  ‘why did you not take
  me to the top of the mountain
  to see the peaking sun?’

thank you for seeing what is perfect
and what stories are needed
to prove a mind right – how every

fabric of decision that makes you
angry and isolated and lonely, has all
the while a gold thread

thank you that when you found
yourself living in this moment
in acceptance of what is and what happened

that you came to me as the sun and sea meeting

the opposite of staying (13 Dec 2008)

it looks like a child
called Brazil or a children’s book
in possum creek
I can create the world

I want children to see
and taste and be
compassionate as a way
of living

it looks like living
in a community of nomads
to earth, we hunger to belong
and say something significant

like love is the only known
and here we move to and from
and always within
lighting and touching

vast tides of possibilities
like the single drop returning
to the ocean and seeing the journey
to land is contained

and moving to a greater pull and law

staying (13 Dec 2008)

intentional community
invites and open doors
for all sorts of reasons
like an old wives gathering

and sharing favourite recipes
and there’s too much cauliflower
so you’re just gonna have to help me
eat it, and this video isn’t due back

for a week, so feel free to borrow it
and I know how much you
love your boyfriend and you just
need to gush all about him

and now we’re helping build
his compost from scratch, he showed
me how to hammer in my first
nail and saw stuff like a pro

and so it goes in an organic
sense, we are a tribe across town
sharing each other’s dreams
and spirit

for something larger than the whole

the opposite of travel II (13 Dec 2008)

it looks like chance
encounters on familiar streets
an invite, a new face, I fall in love

(it’s only love
at first sight
if you recognise it)

I didn’t call it that because
I didn’t expect it to happen

here
in my backyard
(so to speak)

when you find someone
at home and so obviously
in love

with here, does that mean
the opposite of travel
whatever that may be…