Dancing Cells, Shimmering Stars

and then, Life said to me:
"why do you
first build walls,
and then carve
doors and windows
to open and see?
step out for a moment
in the still of the night
under the shimmering stars,
feel me in your
wild dancing cells,
and you will know
all that you are,
and all that you can
and will ever be."

The Embrace

and I didn't quite know,
until you raised your arms
as your being smiled,
and circled the walls
of a crumbling bastion
I had held on to
for perhaps too long,
that the waters from
the womb of our eyes,
breaking into a swell,
as they met for a moment
in a timeless embrace
of water and earth,
fire and breath,
gave birth to
and held close,
the kiss of a new
unlived life.

Wall of Words

and you throw words
in the way
of my seeing,
so I can first
touch and feel
the walls of your heart,
so I can grope
and stumble
and fall in
through the black tunnels
of a love
that does not seek light
but only wants to live,
and feel
unapologetically
alive!

Dreaming of Home

I am sick of this world
where lines are drawn
before hearts can open
to breathe and listen
to the song
of our trespassed humanity;
I am sick of this world
where you have to tell me
where I can go,
where I belong,
where I can take my place
in the family of things
large and small;
I am sick of this world
where fervent knocks
are slammed shut
with indifference
and misplaced indignation
to hold one life,
one voice
more valuable
than all others drowned;
I am sick of this world
where after eons of searching
and countless rites of passage,
I am still not home,
but lie face down
on a faceless shore,
amid broken shells
and unlived dreams,
too scared to even dream
of my true home.

The Umbrella

I stepped out into the world
with an umbrella tucked
firmly under my arm,
eyes squinting strangely
at the glaring sun,
and shying away from
the black clouds
now on the prowl -
a cadaver wading
through sticky roads
with other sardines
jostling in prying hordes;
until I happened
upon that little sparrow
who darted across to thaw
those long-frozen eyes,
and the yellow butterfly
with moist paper wings
who drew me into
her pretty dance;
and then, suddenly,
my skins, they crumbled,
strides moved to skips,
eyes became water,
hands paper ships,
roads turned to rivers,
and corpses to blips,
and well, the umbrella
was carried home that night,
with some flowers,
stones, fireflies and twigs.

Homeless

and I dream
of that blessed moment
when I can lie down
on this virgin earth,
to feel the wind
sing its many songs
through my every pore,
to feel the sun
kiss my every cell
awake from their deathly sleep,
to feel the stars
sprinkle their glitter
on eyes that cannot see,
to feel the moist earth nibble
at my taut skin
stretched beyond limits,
no fences, no roof,
no windows, no door,
the home for the homeless
is a heart with no walls.

Walls

walls.
they are everywhere.
fortresses.
of fear.
boundaries.
of love.
walls.
bind us to the other.
remind us of what could be.
yet, there are spaces
where walls
can set us free.
if only we look
above. or beneath.
to dig like a mole,
or grow wings like a dove,
to look beyond walls
that hold us
from love.

Walls and Windows

you first start
to build walls;
you shut out
yourself
from yourself;
trembling
inside;
cemented
between
fear
and love -
a mind
at war
with itself,
a heart
wanting
to break
open;

and then,
you come to do
the strangest thing -
you leave space
for a window;
to look in, and
look out.

when you don't
build walls
you don't need
windows;
you can stand
with your head held high,
and a heart that's broken
wide open,
to let in the heavens
that are waiting
to embrace you,
to inspire you,
to be alive,
and to dance
into the darkest night,
and the most glorious morning.

I'll meet you there

I'll meet you there
where the earth and sky
empty themselves
into the misty grey void;
where thoughts rest awhile,
and dreams don't fly,
walls cast their form,
and tides don't rise;
I'll meet you there
where the sun and moon
hold hands and stand
to rejoice at noon.

Don't build walls for me...

don't build walls for me -
my home is a temple
where people of all faiths
find their way,
when they stop looking for me
in one place, in one moment;
for how can an infinite space
ever-growing, ever-changing,
be contained in a meagre cup?
don't build walls for me
when you know
that no matter what,
I can burst forth with an embrace
that can engulf the Universe;
when you find your way to me,
dropping your garb, naked and free,
you will find the succour, the haven,
that waits within, in me.