Flow Awareness

With a shift, an inkling, concepts dropped
and I was all of my true name.
I felt etched in moving water.

I streamed me, was as water frozen,
as water falling, water drifting
as fog, as cloud.

I was mini-singular, H2O.

My two hydrogen rabbit ears
danced five different ways,
and my oxygen laughed and sang,
(what a fabulous team!)

Sundried, now as the clock struck noon,
I found my feet and stood.
I built myself of basaltic rock.

Tower of Babel–polyglot soundings
in cyclic revision spoke intelligence,
spiraling I was.

I inverted. I apt dived down
and in my transitions,
I grew rounded and hollowing.

I was Earth. I was Center.
Was Sun at Earth Center

where timeless pinpoint passages
snatched me home again.

O, what things I have felt,
practicing boundlessness.

And you, too ~ have experienced this sort of thing?

Awareness is good beginning.

Year Ending

Altogether I was walking a familiar path,
when strangely my shoulders felt pressed embraced.
My two feet moved so fast; I felt levitated!

Along my lower spine a surge of traffic came —
particles and waves of sunlight
from the center of the earth.

HI HO! my trillions of cells exclaimed,
stretching borders of their community kingdoms.
To reach to nourish to receive it in.

This is all of why I am simply here, I think.
To stop, to sense, to listen.
Call it love.

How is it that such magic happens?
Bless this place at year’s ending.


There has been no end to my exhale,
flowering emptiness fills me, infinitely.

Subsurface tides of me rush recede and on my surfaces
waters winds in beautiful tandem leap form
dance advance.

With in-breath I am remembering my birth,
with out-breath I am practicing my dying.

(Still I know — the I of me
was never born and shall never die)

When I am silent to the very bone,
beyond myself, my edges blurring and free,
what choruses now, what string, what flute notes drum
who is it who sings to and through me?

Have I known you? Why this gift?
Your fiery breath exhaling.

When life and love breathed exactly into this world,
and I became here, were you beside me then?

What face was my face
before I was conceived?

dragon fly

a tick of your distant heart
and for me the wheels go spinning

golden spires in evening breeze dip
and you, gripping, reach to the river

what do you see
with your hunting eyes?

what tastes come
in memory?

i see only peace all about,
your wings of splendid silver filigree

tail tilted to the setting sun
many suns within your heart of hearts

do you know i forever run toward you
and to all your dragon friends?

do you feel me smiling laughing
my joy my welcome?

My Morning Star

You see every bit of me, my morning star.
You pour life to me, no matter what.

I need not ask.
I open to receive.
Turn the bucket of me
right side up.

When you fill me with your golden fire,
you bend my edges wide and this
is my ecstasy.

I pause, breathe, and grow into my new skin.

Is there no end to this?
One part of me cries out–please stop!

Another part sings all glory.


Did someone leave my door ajar?
Or there is no door but what I make
by asking?

Light has left me messages, as questions
such as these, and I have nibbled.

This morning rather I gobble.
I take my cue from my dog
who seizes moments.

This morning I have eaten all the bait.
Hook line and sinker.

Where there are no doors, cracks forever are.

Wherever there are slippings
and mighty shifts
love is.



I have awakened to a land called Hu.
I fling my senses in any direction and love sings.

Green and living I am
and with greening things
I am friend.

I cry out–not publicly, but demure,
concealed and voicing
to God.

How is that the air has become so crowded?
Spirit fills balloons as large as the sun.

I am not breathing this
into being.

All breathes and all sings
and this is where I am.