Swan Song

a lone Leaf
from an unseen tree 
twirls and wilts
into the rising Mist
from the dark hollow,
stretching into
his restful arms,
as he carries her
to unknown worlds -
where pain
becomes joy,
where stillness
becomes dance,
and
where silence
becomes song.

Listen

The Way to the Heart

I can see
the flame
flickering
dancing
seducing me
to leap
into the void
that separates
you and me.

But how can I leap,
how can I leave behind
a part of me
that's held me
in its own loving way?
That's built fortresses
and courtyards,
where thoughts
and beliefs
and dreams
can play freely
like little children
in the safety
of their home?

How can I leap
when I want to
teach myself -
that part of me,
to slow down
and dance
with Life,
for that is the way -
the way that I know
to that eternal flame,
that dancing heart?

When I Speak with You

When I speak with you,
my being stills
like the silent song
of a penny dropped
into a wishing well,
resting
in the warm
unknown folds
of eternity.

When I speak with you,
your words stay
like downy pollen
from a wholesome flower
on thought-dusted wings;
I carry them with me -
sacred songs
of worlds
inside worlds,
moments
inside moments,
an endless shower
of wild confetti.

When I speak with you
I hear and see
trails of thoughts
caught by an eye
that's learned
how to see
shades of clouds
in a grain of sand,
and a cactus smiling
with all its seeds.

When I speak with you,
I hear Life
speak with me.

Freedom

I rest
on the frame
of things,
where
it doesn't matter
if the door
is open
or closed,
where there is
no 'in'
or 'out',
no coming
or going;
where being
is a merging
of all breath.
 
I rest
on the edge
of things,
where
it doesn't matter
if a line
is a dot
or a circle,
that bends
and shifts,
expands
and shrinks,
where thoughts
are not caged
like gilded birds
looking for freedom;
where freedom
just simply is.