Home

Standing at the edge of the world
Lulled by the massive movement sprawled before me.
My thoughts empty
and I am at a loss

Every insecurity falls at my feet
and washes away
I am so small
I am home

Does not everyone feel so blessed here?
or is it my wholeness
for once
that gifts me alone in this moment?

How did I get so far from this place?
When did I find my way back?
Irrelevant.
I am home

The breaks pound my past sorrow
like ancestral applause.
Waves embrace my feet
Shore holds me firm
I am home

I thought I was missing a piece
I came here to see
But alas I was the missing piece
and now
I am home

I am home in every way
when I close my eyes every day
Reality is this dream I live
as time rolls away
...home

If I don't really make it there
I can rest now for my spirit knows
where to go
when my heart begins to slow
go home

What says?

What says the quiet man who does not see well. Who has indeed seen everything up to this moment and only smiles slyly at new developments. What says the woman who holds no more doubt in her heart. Who has no answers but no more questions. Seeking the moment of pure unattainable contentment. For accomplishment only leads to more possibility and contentment is stagnate and stifling.

What says the dog who loves you unconditionally. His soul more genuine than any human spirit. He is witness to a window on your life. He is everything in his bones cradled in loose fur. You are undeserving of his love but you are grateful. 

Endless pursuits to what end? Is a purposeless life less valuable. Is my purpose so small that you can not see it? You are so beautiful. Flawed irrevocably and unapologetic. Maybe we are all blind when it comes to introspection. From here everyone of you looks untouchable. Every distasteful internal dialogue you have shared with yourself about yourself is why we love you. It is a conversation we have shared separately for a thousand years. Like a curse. Imprisoned in our own judgement of self. 

What says the child fresh from snow, self soaked and red cheeked? Snowflakes as big as your hand are absorbed like magic. Imprinting memories of silver and light and wonder. What says the child in wonder of our stupid ways. Trying to make sense of the senseless. restless. helpless. sadness. Don't say sorry. Don't ignore the damage either. Build them a swing and let them ride it in the rain with nothing but their boots on. 

What says the universe of our world? Vast and quiet peering into our reckless spaces. Trying to make sense of our nature. We dance like ants, atop ants. The quiet man can hear the space beyond. The woman's silence is marred with fear. The dog knows already what we are in for and the child, well the child never had a chance. We screwed up but that is how we were designed. 
We did it just perfectly. 

Four decades.

Floating thoughtless for decades, four decades. Gently waking into truth. Mindless milestones connecting furiously like stars manifesting constellations. The past depicting my future. An uncomplicated plan, definite. All guided by unselfish transient souls completely unaware of their remarkable purpose in maintaining my path. Thank you.

Time is a thief...

Helpless to stop the pathetic hope looming deep inside my chest. Tomorrow is truly just another day but if they say out loud that it is new then we have something to look forward to. As if hope is failure I am ashamed that it lies there in my heart. Much easier to know what is and accept that maybe this is as good as it gets...and be okay with that. Alas the human condition. I doubt there is a squirrel in a tree somewhere wondering how they may change the course of their life because tomorrow is a new year filled with promise. 

I don't dislike optimism, I just don't like to be told when I should be optimistic. I would much rather have low expectations and be surprised than to begin to grow my dreams in larger bubbles sure to burst. Regardless it is a new year. So have at it. It is a good excuse to forgive yourself and wipe the slate clean so to speak. Last year was as furious as it was fast. May I remind you that we are lucky here tonight, for there are so many who do not have hope or an understanding of what that might feel like. 

I do fear silent requests to the universe. I fear selfishness. I worry that for every wish granted something here in my heart will be taken in return and although I may only have a small collection of treasures, I am not willing to trade up on any of them. So I will say farewell 2013. I do not look back in regret or anger. I take full responsibility for all my heartaches and blessings. Thank you for teaching me some of the same lessons I try to learn every year. Thank you for the time, because a wise man once quoted to me that "Time is a thief, and I left the door wide open". Don't wish away your time. Revel in it. Even the hardened soulless moments are an opportunity to live, feel, breathe and well, have hope if nothing else. 

Invisible tree

Standing there. Rooted. Committed to the ground as if I might just float away otherwise. Naughty knots tangled and strangling themselves. Tall enough. Strong enough. But, completely invisible. Come to me for protection and food. My service is to you. But notice me. If you come back again and again and again, at least appreciate the convenience of my location. My consistency. I will continue to exist with enough water and enough sun. But I long to connect. You climb all over me and you keep cutting back my branches for a better view. Can you not appreciate the reality of my relation to your existence? Prominent and imperceptible. I should revel perhaps in my usefulness. I should carry perhaps a humble pride of leaves. Yet I find myself waving in the wind and waiting to see if you look my way. I modify and redesign myself every season for your attention not your amusment. I literally throw myself at your feet and then a little piece of me dies there. In desperation I am even guilty of stretching up from below hoping to trip up your routine. Alas, I am invisible and lonely if not deceptively peaceful looking. 

Blind Determination and a Blue Ball

Aimless little hobo pinched into a new cardboard box. Warm and dry and without cause. Then uncontrollably excited by a passing ball. Little bitch has been chasin this ball for years. It is perfect. That is what she was told. It certainly looks perfect. Not even a scratch after all these years. Blue, a beautiful blue, not faded or tainted. Just rolling for years around in her head and heart. She almost caught it once. But she was afraid it might burst and let it go. 

Luckily her attention span it short and she can be pulled away from her obsession for long periods, so long that it weakens the wanting. Stupid ball, who needs it. In her mind she buries it, deep in the ground. She can not have it but at least she doesn't have to see it. But then every so often, here it comes...how did it get out? And there it goes. Fuckin ball. Maybe she was destined to chase it. It may be that it was once hers in another life. Happiness can not be found in a ball can it? I mean in one specific ball! A ball is a ball. She has other ones, why are they not good enough. What is it about that one?

Curious thing the heart and head, blind determination and a blue ball. For now she sleeps with one eye open, wondering if it will pass again. Eventually she will tire and fall asleep and think she only dreamt it. And maybe she did. Maybe it is all it ever was, a dream...and maybe not even hers. 

Holiday Spirit

I'm not going to apologize, or make up suitable palatable lies. Won't wear my new town's disguise. It's good and okay to just be what I am for now. Holidays help past the time despite insincere spirits and commercialize drones. Where are you going little bees... did they tell you today was your day to try to buy the tradition your grandmother made from scratch. It will cost you in many ways for days and days.   Try your best to be real. It's hard to, I know. Paper walls hiding questionable motives. 

Be real but conscious...yes? Life is this moment and it is innate to be in company. Not just any company but amoung the back holders and wet shoulders. The face slappers and reality clappers. The folks who know you or care to or don't care if they do but want to. For is happiness real if not shared? I read that once...it resonates. Embrace the season for your needs...find what resonates. 

I think all I should want for Christmas is honesty ...transparency ...and to share it with those I love. My best gift always comes from the look in my dogs eyes when I call him over. You can't buy that, you can't sell that. It's honest and transparent and undeserved and constant. My heart beats not for approval or accomplishment but for knowing the few who love me regardless and when I'm lost and when I don't love myself. It's Christmas and it's okay to define what that is for yourself. Happy Holidays.