At the Table
.
.
You want your fond place at the
table
You want to be a fellow jolly good "so say
we all."
I tell you, the table is vastly laden with
layers of little memories,
which
no two see the same.
We arrive at the feast
hungry for virtue, for love,
for
forgiveness of our wanton
ways;
willing to be merry, to partake
of
ritual, merge through
transubstantiation.
Constellations, moving, shifting,
making waves in collective
consciousness, appear to
reveal
sparkling impulses of truth.
On that star marked evening
taking in the sweet, evocative
air,
embracing untranslated joy,
something catches in our
throats.
The song we need so
desperately
to share can only express in
shards.
The pain, sucked in with our
breath,
becomes one with the bread and
wine.
This is the blood, the body,
marinated in salty tears,
preserving
what has not yet found
appropriate release.
.
Again, and yet again
meeting, to take sustenance.
Hungry battle wounds
courageously opening,
to imbibe the healing
of grace.
.
.
.
.
music of the
spheres
.
.
In quiet night
sky
while starlight and
peace prevail,
a haunting
rhythm,
music of moving
spheres,
slowly soars,
entrances,
embraces
fear,
kisses taunt of pain
away.
Well into darkness,
watching,
hoping for a passing
meteor
to swoop down and carry
far into greater
space,
where kindly
constellations
tell stories of joy and
thanksgiving.
Celestial fusion
crackles and strains
like an old jazz
recording.
Melodies layered
through ages;
written on mighty,
sacred wind;
told like Homeric
verse
by the wanderers
--
heavenly nurturing
guides
leading us
home.
.
.
.
.
Thanks for sharing
.
.
Thanks for sharing
your intimate secrets,
guilty despair.
"How can anything
matter?
I am too damaged, dark,
no fun to pay
admission."
It is not a birthday
without
cake and good wishes.
No cure can take hold
without
a get well card,
gift of courage
from caring others.
No rhyme, no rhythm,
no choir – no welcoming
into soft healing
warmth.
Toxic potions,
shocking wires,
disconnection from
harried continuity
cannot weave wholeness.
Kind reception, open
revel in shared
humanity
etches a loving pattern
for integration,
faith to dare creative
leap.
Re-merged, nourished with fuel for
healthy fulfillment.
!
Multi-hued singing
fountains
rejoice in new found
company.
.
.
.
.
Not in
Gratitude
.
.
Gratitude implies
obligation.
Lilting beatitude,
delight,
insightful embrace
freely express.
Happy in my natural
rhythm,
receptive to
pleasure;
balm of luscious
nectars,
warm melt of radiant
bliss,
elation, charismatic
exultation.
I am in awe, a true
believer;
not on my knees in
supplication.
Supine, welcoming
grace.
.
.
.
.
Giving Thanks
.
.
Thank you all for
being
-- as another year
unwinds
All the hearing, touching,
seeing
Your shared caring and
desires
All the fear, sickness and
heartache
All the joy, infectious
smiles
Arts in which you kindly
partake
in all your various
styles
Dear wishes for a future
where
convivial peace
abides
Thank you all for
being
in my life.
.
.
.
.
Firelight Story
.
.
Oh my children,
not so very long ago,
probably in many places still,
we lived in communities
in which we had pride and
dignity.
Small enough for everyone to
know your name.
Large enough to provide diverse
resource of skills
and personalities.
Caring, squabbling, challenging
as family.
Able to leap beyond petty animosities
and find a way when a way
must be found.
Entrenched in lessons of former
days,
preparation for breaking future
ground.
Not just a pretty myth
like heroic champions who
protect,
subtract our sins.
Community, adaptive growth
within
a solid sphere,
a social network of mutual
support,
often said to be what we are here
for.
(I hear you sneer; you who tear down magic,
hope, shared trust.)
It could be, community,
our prayed for cure (balancing
salvation)
to the follies of humanity's
deadly love
of war.
.
.
.
.
Soft sensuous clouds drift and
blend
as crepuscular iridescent glow
descends.
Below, welcoming evening lights,
drowsy trees, cozy homes, familiar
rites.
Recall of feasts, merry meets, gift
of returning friends
evokes deeply desired peace,
belonging, generous amends.
*
Battle wary, ready for rest, to
shelter.
Close this sorry chapter; relax,
restore.
.
No space to listen, reflect, learn
how
we could peacefully
heal.
Its all teeth and claws, everyday
wars,
every night prayers of repent.
Every
penny spent to hold back the
blame,
shame, certainty that all paths
forward
lead to more of the
same.
.
Earth spins; we want answers
that
assure us yes, so wise, we are
Messiah’s promised.
.
I give you a bubble of better
days.
Ease of peace in contemplation,
bliss of
transcendent imagery, artful
conversation.
Breathe.
Feel complete
if only for this moment.
