just one tear

just one tear

finds its way

crawling

to the call of a heart

steeped in love

exploding

into the vagaries

of this stillness

devouring

every thought 

of you.

happy lostness

when thoughts become
the fringes of a kite
baring its skin,
dancing
in the clear wind
of presence,
still and moving,
at once,
I rest in the soft humus
of my newborn heart,
feeling each tug
upon that string
of love,
binding oceans
and voids
of a happy lostness
in one ordinary breath
of sheer magic.

Into and Beyond the Light

today
i want to light
one little lamp
in the quiet
of my temple.

not for visitors
to come in
and take a peek
and marvel
at the darkness
and light,
to take them
to that same void
where I've been sucked in
many a time,

today
i want to light
one little lamp
just for myself,
not to feel safe,
or trump evil eyes,
or hope to save the world
with the light,

today
i want to light
one little lamp
just for myself.

i want to feel
the heat rise and engulf
my parched skin,
i want to feel
every wrinkle and scar
light up and burn,
i want to feel
the heat get to me
in the closeness,
i want to feel
the urge to get up
and walk away,
to do something,
anything,

and then
in that threshold
of one inflamed silence,
i want to feel the flame
flicker and grow
and die
in the stillness
of my temple

and feel the desire
to light it
and not light it
again.

today,
i want to light
one little lamp,
just for myself,
in the quiet
of my temple.

Stuck.

frozen.
inside my soles.
I can't take
a single step,
even as my eyes
roam the horizon.
and the earth shakes
violently
beneath my feet.

muscles twitch
to feel an inch
of stillness,
in a world
with no margins,
no lines to follow,
no imaginings
to form patterns
with even wispy
beginnings
and ends.
only spirals.
endless.
folding into themselves.

cocooned
by Life
who knows
how to work
on me,
tired eyes
find their way home,
muscles twitch
and come alive
in the craziness,
dancing in skins
centuries old,
loosening their grip
on faithless bones,

and a tiny seed
opens itself out to the world
from its imposed tightness,
sinking invisible roots
into the sticky emptiness
and beyond,
waiting,
noticing,
becoming,
the effortless flow
of life within Life.

Endless Wonder

and while the world
watched shadows
play out
in empty fields,
eyes flitting,
unaware,
between
the stolid black
and unreal lights
on misshapen forms,
you and me,
we sat still,
under the vastness
of the night sky
rolled out
for all to see,
our eyes lost
in the endless wonder
of distant stars
dotting
the virgin canopy.

Kali

I came to you
with a head full of
stories, questions,
heroes, heroines,
soap operas, tragedies,
flippant comedies,
and gifts that I thought
I bring to this world;
and then, at the cusp
of a limping daylight
and the ravishing black
of a buxom moon,
I stood before you
completely undone;
one look at your
imposing form,
your thousand arms
piercing into eternity,
and the enticing pleats
of your bellowing skirt
drawing me into
a deathly trance,
and my heavy head
bowed down
at your still feet -
the altar of all things human,
pouring out nothing
but words of glory,
while you, through your
frozen white
outstretched tongue,
consume it all,
in one gulp,
mocking at my foolery -
to frill up the cracks
in each shard
with a new incomplete story,
a desperation for wholeness,
when everything that is,
is broken and breakable,
in your hands
of death and life,
O Black Goddess,
Kali!

Listen

listen to me
not with your thoughts,
not with your words,
not with your feelers,
trying to make sense
of what you are
or who I am;
listen to me
with the silence
that swallows it all,
where you don't know
where you begin
or end;
listen to me,
lie still, in me.

Black Anger Rising

black anger
rising
from still ground,
no frills,
no flowers,
no camouflage,
no airs,
just an ashen skin,
white hot,
smooth and plain,
dusted
with the whiteness
of a heart
that knows
only one way
to love -
a ferocious love
that destroys
things with a shelf-life,
to recycle,
to create,
a timeless world
beyond life and love.

Black Mountain

and you drew me
with your steady,
one - pointed gaze,
into your spent bosom,
the blackness and stillness
of your stark eyes,
of your majestic form,
lit the pyre
of my wayward thoughts,
as I swallowed you
in one breath,
of fear and love,
with nowhere to hide
but in your barren folds,
now mine,
drinking in a love
that you do not give,
but help me find myself;
rising from the ashes
of long-dead logs
from other worlds,
the black goddess
comes alive
to kill with a love
for Black Mountain.

In Hiding

and even the sun,
in all her brilliance,
slips into the stillness
of her dark womb
every day
at twilight,
hiding herself,
away from eyes
that cannot hold
her ravishing beauty
for long -
eyes that want to
devour her glory,
tossing and turning
through long, dark nights,
all for a glimpse of her;
and then she arrives quietly,
without fanfare,
while the world still dreams,
burning shadows
along her way,
and fanning the flames
of those hearts
that fear not to walk
in their own light
and shadow.

Come, Be a Mountain!

and Life said to me:
"Be a mountain!
come, take your place
between the heavens
and the earth,
for you are not alone;
come, stay where you are,
for in that space of being,
you will find your place
in the family of all things;
yes, you cannot move at will,
but that's why you can grow roots
into yourself and a landscape
that's ever-changing -
where rivers meander off
like prodigal sons
never to return to your folds,
where birds arrive and depart
like restless pilgrims
always in search of something,
where trees rise and fall
with every wobble
of the slowly turning wheels,
where paths and trails
cut into your very soul -
those that you'll never walk on,
where men and women come
to conquer a mystery
and flaunt their valour,
only to end up exploring and discovering
their own smaller and larger selves;
come, dear one,
be a mountain!
and rest in the stillness 
of all that is,
and all that will ever be."

a leaf stirs awake
as I strain my ears to hear
stillness in silence

One Voice

sometimes I feel
I'm standing alone
along the edge
of a still river,
calling out to you
across the void,
where one voice
becomes
an illusory two,
bouncing off
the jagged edges
of an expressionless cliff,
drowning the longing
to meet another voice,
in the silence
between me and you.

Everything is Quiet Here

everything is quiet here,
the sun's gone somewhere
for a sleepover,
clouds linger for one last peek,
window-shopping at a world
too busy to be sold into,
the waters are restful,
singing their own lullaby
into the growing night,
the birds are back in their perches
communing over the mundanity
of yet another fulfilling day;

everything is quiet here,
the doorbell's fallen silent
straining its ears to listen
to the breath of all things
animate and inanimate,
the phone lies in a corner,
undisturbed by the desire
to belong somewhere
falling back into the emptiness,
tiny ants scurry along
the safe edges of a wall,
risking their busyness
to feel one another;

everything is quiet here,
where happening melts
into being,
where I am something
that simply lays still
with the hushed air,
not wanting to be anything more;
perhaps that's how we feel
when we die,
when we feel we're a part
of everything's that's here,
in the quiet greatness,
simplicity and totality
of this one precious moment.

My Prayer

and I pray
that my words sing
the many songs
of still water
flowing
to die
while it lives
a thousand lives.

Forgetting

Why do my fingers
and my eyes
itch every now and then,
to steady a balance,
to still a pendulum,
to watch a compass,
to catch myself or another
from falling or flying?

Why this obsession
to change,
to correct,
to moderate,
to still
everything that moves,
and to move
everything that's still?

Why do my fingers
and my eyes,
strike out
like roving tentacles,
overpowering,
and encasing
my gentle heart
from the swell?

Have they forgotten
how to reach out
to touch the stillness,
the mystery,
and purpose
of the dazzling stars
in the liquid firmament,
that explode into laughter
while they watch over
a sleepy ocean?

Stillness

thoughts afloat
upon little blobs
of seaweed
carried across
to nowhere,
circling ripples
cradle dreams
held close
to a quiet bosom
where stillness reigns.

The Well

and when you come to me
with your thirsting eyes
and dip into the stillness
and unknown depths
that give me form,
my parched lips
feel their own wetness
when you leave
with your newly filled eyes.

Listening to my Heart

when I want
to listen to my heart,
I go to the forest -
not on a safari
where I sit pretty
in a noisy jeep,
when every restful leaf
is rattled awake
by its rude passing,
but on a slow quiet walk
through the wild grass
and unkempt paths,
where every movement
is born of a stillness,
where the eyes
and the ears
and the mouth
and the skin,
drink in the glory
of the wildness
that I seek,
a precious wildness
that emerges slowly
from the silence
that lies hidden -
the roar of a lion
from within,
from the deep.

Waiting in the Rain

Coke Studio in the car,
weeping window panes
paint a ruptured heart,
young green leaves
shake off water
like frisky puppies
after a bath,
tireless wheels
chase each other
on sleepy wet tar,
hustling honks
drown slipper claps,
walking voices hush
to a bird's shrill call,
time drags her feet
into the dewy grey light,
stillness cloaks her,
silence and song
move her breath,
eyes gaze on
and merge
into the restless skies,
while she cradles
her wild heart,
yearning
to skip and dance,
now waiting
alone in the rain.