Sand colored shades hid the playful sunbeams that warmed the chapel windows. The room darkened like a forest floor at dawn, diffuse speckled light in the shadows. A silence full of breathing souls echoed faintly through the halls of worship. A reassuring hand gently caressed each supine spine, encouraging us to release the day. Heartbeats slowed leaving space for the mind to wander and sleep to seep in. One mat per child spaced evenly along Hope Lutheran's wall, we learned to rest.
Another world
The witch and the sage are one. Inquiry in place of inquisition Herstory is known to all History listens with reverence Travelers and traders Expand hearts and minds Territories left unsullied Trust flourishes on the vine Our voices woven together Make meaning emerge Truth is a living tapestry Rugged, fertile, tangible In another world
March of the dead
One quarter million of souls have conscripted since spring.
An army of the beloved joins the march of the dead.
The still-living bereaved wail in protest of this draft.
And are met with denial, derision, and doubt.
———
Tell those losers they’re lying and lazy and shrill!
We must keep the crowds coming, hear them cheer, feel the roar!
Keep the thing makers making! Let the revelers reel!
———
So the risens ranks swell, each soul-dier armed with the truth.
And their loved ones are left to raise hell here on earth.
Kitchen Fire
We cannot leave the house until you have checked to see if the stove is off.
I wish I could do the same with you every time I come home.
Is that why you switched to an induction stove…
So you could learn how to transfer heat directly to the object of your ire?
Am I the carelessly draped towel idly scorched by your silently sizzling electric coil?
American Spirits
White-supremacy, the original American Spirit, just won’t let us go. I get it. I used to smoke too. It took me a dozen tries over fifteen years before I quit for good.
Every time, I would start out committed, self-righteous, reciting the evils of the devil divine: “Gives you a false sense of security. Addictive. Lining the pockets of the filthy rich. Hurts the people around you. Toxic. Will eventually lead to death.”
Until one day, I’d be stressed, and a ubiquitous hip-height concrete outdoor ashtray full of half-smoked butts would whisper to me, “You need us. We’ll make you feel good. Strong. Like life is easy again. No one has to know.” And so, without a thought, I’d put my lips on someone else’s lipstick-smeared cancer stick and suck in deep.
For a moment all felt right with the world. A pretty lie, on an ugly day.
White-supremacy, that oldest of American Spirits just won’t let us go. I get it. I do. Really, we just needed one more pull.
Sublime
Dry ice sublimes to air, life-giving to trees.
Electric pulse sublimes, feel the soaring of wings.
Painful memories sublime, now divine call to the light.
Grief sublimes, see the star-scape in the night.
Survivor sublimes hailed as brave-one and wise.
Hate-words sublime, total revelation of lies.
——
The sublime is our soul song, our vision, our grace.
Excited vibrations accelerate transformations pace.
Age-old fear sublimates, unbridled truth in its place.
Morning Raag- November 3, 2020
Restless sleeper’s demon rests a leaden hand on my chest just before morning light. How can my eyes open with a beast’s claw so near? Is it near? Is it near? Is it?
No beast, only my own body holding me still, protecting me from the ravenous fears that consume me. I am not trapped here. I can shake every cell of my body. I can summon my will to breathe.
My yawn is the first inhalation of a dawning star’s light, now rising inside me. My eye’s blink themselves into existence receiving the colors that enliven me.
My heart absorbs the plasma of the infinite acts of love that surround me. Boundless potential energy presses against the seams of this day.
Now, I am awake.
We, the people
I see you not seeing me. Not seeing free me. Not seeing me as being me. Not seeing human-giving -loving-being me.
All you know is what is known. No knowing outside of mine, my, me. No knowing the knowable abnormalities. No knowing the notion of another’s knowledge tree.
All you think you are is everything. Think nothing less than everywhere. Think nothing less than all that’s there. Think nothing less than the endless, edgeless air is fair.
And yet I see, I am a whole me. A wholly found me. A wholly sound, profoundly bound me. A wholly embraced on sacred ground me.
Embraced by the we who believe in thriving. The we will live beyond surviving. The we believe in spite of your lying. The we believe in life worthy of dying.
You will know us when you know more than you’ve ever known. Know us when you know you are nothing more than free. Know us when you know the human-loving-giving-being-we.
Then we, all of we, will know the unknowably sky. We, all of we, will breathe of the ageless sea. We will see what has never been seen.
The people, we.
Hallow’s Eve Incantation
We wicked witches,
murdered midwives,
silenced soothsayers of old.
Hear our prayers
from our pyres
Oh dear progeny be bold!
—-
Sister-soldiers hold the center
Brother healers break the bread
Tired teachers turn truth-tellers
Wailing weepers mourn the dead!
—
Vision-keepers hear our prayer
Dream creators hear our plea…
—
We bequeath to thee our power.
We bequeath to thee our songs.
We bequeath to thee our magic.
We the wise, and we the strong.
—
On this hallow’s eve we hail thee
Under blue moon’s watchful eyes.
All our children, justice angels.
Hark! The revolutionaries rise!
Mask Haiku
CoVID-19 mask
prevents contaminating
reminders to “smile”.
american incarnations 