when chaos commands
we unbalance scream and seethe
what remains of truth
is bruised and muted
what survives of beauty
is shattered and bleeding


who are we?


sometimes
the greatest courage requires
stillness

sometimes
the greatest strength requires
staring
into the raging face of fear

unblinking

when death comes
it will not be the patient ground
that opens up to hold us

it will not be the restless sea
that reaches out to collect us

it will be the wind
that finally takes our names
spins and shakes them apart
tossing them into infinite sparks

are you accepting of this?
are you prepared for this?

the seasons wheel away
and so must we

when finally confronted
with the entirety of it

will all the tiny folds
overwhelm us?

will we grasp madly
at shadows?

howl at the moon?
or will we settle

into remembering the impossibility
of the hummingbird’s beating heart

the rain's slap and rhythm
the heavy scent of leelawadee?

despite everything
contracting and receding

won’t we want to lean
into the final soft bloom

to look up
and browse the clouds?

when life
and death

sit
in the same room

the eyes
of the unbaptized

are left open
above the baskets

of fruit
and the piles

of shoes
coffins hang

on walls
a cross made

of two broken branches
marks

a new grave


    bla ck b ird s wa tch fro m we ary wir es


please
let me finish

this thought
this breath
this life

when life and death
sit in the same room
the eyes of the dead are left open

above the baskets of fruit
and the piles of shoes
coffins hang on walls

a cross
made of two broken branches
marks a new grave


bla   ck b   ird   s wa   tch   fro   m we   ary   wir   es


please
let me finish

this thought
this breath

this life

when october
unstitched

her skins
scattering the remains

we touched
the yellow cloth

marveling
at the heat

of it all

later stepping
across the blue stones

of the sky
we breathed

in birdsong
and wood smoke

                                                                                     and remembering

when we gather
around the wreath of flames

what will you do
with your tiny piece of god?

your chip of rib
your unplucked petals

your tuck of rain
your bend of wing?

will you seek the elemental?
will you pursue the intangibles?

do not be afraid
to stray from the center

do not be afraid
to dawdle

and dance
on the periphery

when we return                of the world        of ourselves
to the routines                   to the silence

let us set                             let us sit
the stones                           in the gloaming
to a bright new room       and watch the light
and conceive                     shake with
of its colors                        beautybeautybeauty

what is your hand
in the mystery
of things?

what is it
that you choose
to gather?

with eyes
to the horizon
there can be no measure

wind held
the hawk

well above
the burn

and stubble
of october fields

in slow circles
of un

         broken blue
a single note

turning
and re

           turning
how will you

approach silence?
with open arms

a feather of fear?
is there

any room left
in your crowded life

for stillness?
how do you

measure mystery?

wind kicked
the litterleaf
(greengrown gold)

in coughs
of color
beneath our feet

we watched
the late sky
(blueblown grey)

ember into lastlight
into the breathwhite
of waiting winter

winds trespass
and stand

still

clouds tower
grey and

spill

bough flower
drink their

fill

sakura crocus
&

daffodil

with a pale parade
of its confetti

of dead leaves
winter has arrived

i am accepting
of all seasons

each
with its bounties

and boundaries
its rewards

and regrets
in his sermon

a priest once said
that life

in the absence
of pain

would be hell

with the slightest tilt
of its tail feathers

an imperceptible shift
in the weight
  
from one wing
to the other

the subtle bend of its body  
the hawk

made measurements and calculations
about the wind
  
swinging in perfect circles
turning in upward spirals

free and easy  
upon the unseen currents of thermals

then
as if breaking from a meditation

it found a crease in the air
and set out across the dark blue of the lake

i do not know
what will happen next

and my mind
is far too cluttered to care

but i once stood  
and bore witness to a hawk

showing me all
that was possible