Tag: Poetry

This (blade of grass)

The bottom half folds into the stem the way some tongues do, cupping a soft streak of shadow. The top half glistens with sparkle and subtle sun glaze. It bends forward to a slightly drooping tip. Beneath it hangs a bold sphere of dew; ( It could be any blade of grass, but its not…
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Darshan

It’s the subtlest of the subtle that we give our hearts to- deeper than a smile, softer than an eyelash, the way a cat’s paws barely lend their weight to the mattress, the way they prowl with those slow swooning purs, the way they gently nudge two sleeping eyes awake.

Intimacy

I see a bright crescent forming like a smile at the bottom of your pupil. (This is how pain condenses to honey.) I unwrap the wool from my body and allow this thick nectar to soak through my skin.

Collapsing the Distance

This is what Thank You means- it is when the pores become so wide that the wind can slip through the skin and tickle the heart. It is acceptance with Love. And it draws our surroundings closer- the chair, the ocean, the trees… it brings them inside. It holds the atoms in my body together,…
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The Way the Earth is Lit

I have heard it was said by them of old time that the Moon borrows her light from the Sun. But I say a beauty as great as the Moon’s inspires a great lover, and it was this muse that sparked the Sun’s flame. The Sun’s sweet ballads of love and longing share the Moon…
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Autumn’s Cry

A leaf lightens into gold and leaps from the branch to the sky. What whirling what spinning what dancing what joy! (It is jealousy that clings the other leaves to their branches, but only for so long.) Autumn knows this secret- that we are all becoming beautiful together.

Afterthought

…it is Thank You and I Love You, it is Joy and it is Yes! it is the rising sun revealing a soft pair of hands sprinkling salt on the snow-covered sidewalk.

Freedom

A forehead splits down the center like a lightning-struck tree and swings open like doors on the hinges of each ear. A flock of birds flies like smoke from the opening, and the heart sings praises to their wings.

Ahhhh…

You are huddled against a flower’s stamen, naked and much too cold to smell the fragrance soon to overtake your world. This void-black sky is the outstretched arms of rose petals, enclosed over you like a domed cocoon, fingers meeting high overhead and interwoven like strands of a grandmother basket. **Gasping Amazement! (sucking in) …haaaaaaa…
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Release

What would be left of you for me if I no longer wanted you to be a something else?