Climbing Out Of Your Dimples

Climbing Out Of Your Dimples

The hardest lessons lie on the other side

of the simplest graces;

half drunk coffee shaded by morning faces,

the made bed erasing the outline

of our shapes in it.

Life interrupted by the presence of another

grazing the nape of my neck,

skin a confusion of perfect sense

because I believe the universe is foolproof

and my learning is in the leaving of everything

but your borrowed toothbrush.

Groundwork

Groundwork

I would like to rely a little more on myself

and not see hope as a chore,

like eating healthy or being kind to my anxiety,

something other than just coping

when lack of sleep slides into the bed beside me

and swears he’s the only intimacy I’m worth.

Can I place a hand over where it hurts,

yours or mine, or both together,

allow scars to touch bare skin

without lying about their origin,

my longings and wishful thinkings,

mistakes and misplaced trust.

Of the things I find hard to accept,

the most difficult is knowing

how the next steps require

I must let go of them all.

Equilibrium in Motion

Equilibrium in Motion

This is not a war

and there is no you outside yourself

to fight.

It’s just the passage of thoughts

and fleeting feelings,

laying themselves to rest for awhile

inside an impermanent body,

which you also inhabit

as an everlasting spirit.

Part of being

is life becoming,

all in this together,

and nothing in nature is exempt from this change.

So notice how we change with you,

refined for our next revolution,

even the rivers and streams have currents.

If You And I Had Been Elemental Forces

If You And I Had Been Elemental Forces

Camden market, where I came by

those shoes on your feet. A comfortable fit

to make this mountain climb an easier course,

with a sky of clouds to conquer,

autographed with the mind’s eye.

To finish the picture,

sometimes, we painted our own clouds.

Called this one cumulonimbus,

another formed the shape we know as shame

next to those of cotton-candy kindness

frozen in time. This pattern came

and stayed, covering the stars

like a foggy window pane

and sending down showers of shadows

we forgot were homemade,

but our cheeks will always wet the same

when our skin meets one another’s pain

and mine are still soaked through

from being too soft or hard on you.

Each counted towards the chance of an impending storm

and luck was skirting the lightning strikes

that tracked our every step,

as moonlight fell on this divided town.

Until one of us, lost

the other one, left

both chasing the finer weather.

Tadasana

Tadasana

Spread your fingers wide, arms raised

towards the sky, like the sun

is pulling you to new heights,

to open spaces now that your hands

are no longer wrapped tight around your body

with impossibilities repeating.

Meet your feelings as peace doves,

treat their wounds, gather up their spilled blood.

Let the daylight soak into the scars on your exposed skin,

breathe in to your love coming home.

Puppet Show

Puppet Show

If there is no God, instead can I

grant myself the strength to do what is right,

help myself decide

which piece of my fragile heart

I should be guided by.

It doesn’t know whose side it’s on,

where to stand to be on mine.

So much does it love,

but so much it is lost at the same time.

Would it be letting go

of the most precious thing I’ll ever find

or is this a lesson

in treasuring moments while they last,

learning to leave what no longer serves

my best life.

Or is it you, walking away from me

because I don’t deserve this gift,

have I not cared enough and in the right way,

have I been too afraid to give it my all

or did I give all I could by two months in

and the rest is my passive acceptance

along a road I’m not meant to live,

waiting for the end

like I can’t start my own beginning,

like I can’t be my own higher power.

To The Rhythm And The Waves And The Chaos

To The Rhythm And The Waves And The Chaos

Start with a warm up, stretch out the stiff muscles and weary heart. It’s been a long week. It’s always been a long week and I move with this extra weight carried across my neck. Find a space and plan on staying there, stuck to the solid ground where comfort festers in a steady sway.

The music shifts up a pace and Aretha Franklin plays. She speaks to me, sings into my ear in sisterly love. “Give yourself a little respect”, she says, “try just a little bit.” I take a small step, so used to clumsy connection to the source, but step after step and soles of the feet slowly change into palms, finding how it feels to be open to the floor, to flow, passing through the body’s forgotten places, forging paths for them to take part, sense their being alive.

Called to partner with another awakened soul, I follow their footing and think that I’ll figure the rest out later.

We learn to accept ourselves with the light touch of piano keys, each note a kiss on the lips and I learn to linger with kindness in the parting lullaby. A pattern emerges of being lost and found and then lost again and again, the dance of pleasure that folds into pain then folds into passion. Stamping a mark on the surface of the earth with a scream of ‘I am here’. Welcome body, welcome breath; let me love you into abundance.