You’re asking who knows the truth.

--

One may move so well that a foot-print never shows. -Lao Tzu

Step into the corner of night, the edge of the blue-steel future, 

step into those things that you have hoped for, but haven't said. 

You are a field left fallow, an unanswered question, a small slice 

of winter that was hidden and saved for the long, slow heat of summer. 

Where are your foot-prints now? What is it that you have hidden, 

buried deep somewhere? How will you move at all, so badly wounded? 

You are the sum and total of your every experience, your every thought. 

And this is the boat of your life, slicing through a choppy, shallow bay, 

the dog that just walked away, the river that laughed at the bayou 

and went where it wanted to go, the sun that burned and ravaged the land.

Step into the corner of night, the edge of the blue-steel future, 

step into those things that you have hoped for, but never said. 

You wanted to know the truth? Friend, the truth is inside of you.

You are the only one who ever knew the truth.

-jobe

waxing crescent moon

--

a wide splash of stars above the valley 

the waxing crescent moon has already set 

it’s quiet and still 

the streets are empty 

the universe is filled by this one moment 

-jobe 

shared with me

--

winding the old clock 

i ask it about all of the hours 

it has shared with me 

no answer 

just the sound of morning rain

-jobe

is that my son i see

 --

a windy wet day

is that my son i see 

through an opening

in a stand of pines

years now since the funeral

-jobe

this lincoln log life.

--

everyone says that my way of life 

is the way of a simpleton -lao tzu

this life. 

was built from lincoln logs. 

long ago. 

no one understands. 

time is a sister. 

was a brother. 

time is a mother. 

was a father. 

watching the animals for clues. 

watching the insects. 

looking for meaning. 

this incarnation. 

is built from building blocks. 

colored with crayons. 

like a child made it. 

getting older. 

balder. 

seeing ghosts. 

talking to the invisible. 

whispering.

-jobe

tomatoes walnuts olives

--

the fields of the sacramento valley 

have joined hands with the oaks and the pines 

to dance in this cold rain 

up in the sierra nevada mountains 

there is now an extra blanket of snow 

the farms below will have water 

all throughout the growing season 

tomatoes walnuts olives  

all will flourish 

a good season is here 

for the farmers 

for the grocers 

and hopefully for the hungry 

even now the rows of tomato plants 

seem like a young army reaching up 

to heaven

-jobe

like a stream in the hills.

--

what is more fluid, more yielding than water? -lao tzu

life rolls by on steel wheels, as a train does, 

and yet  the afternoon seems small anyway, 

like a child or an unfinished thought.

the dogs have lapped up the butter from the dish 

and summer is half over; 

would you rather feed the poor 

or buy more guns for the soldiers? 

bigger guns? bigger bullets?

what was odysseus thinking when he had himself lashed 

to the mast of his ship and the sirens sang so seductively?

prometheus returned the use of fire to the humans;

he must have known there would be hell to pay.

chained to that rock an eagle ate his liver every day,

and every night it grew back again. zeus was a republican

and he chaired the senate finance committee.

be the water, slipping down to the lower places, 

flowing easy and slow. like a stream in the hills. 

a young girl comes to the bank 

and eases her feet into the blue water. 

isn't she lovely? do you hope that she is kind?

-jobe

the surrendering of the kingdom.

--

handle a large kingdom with as gentle a touch 

as if you were cooking a small fish. -lao tzu  

this nakedness: there is a realness to it. 

the mystery is solved. at last. 

crooked nights when it was long in our thoughts. 

quiet days when the mind was empty 

and you think of the body of the other. 

what to touch, what to taste. 

a sacred thing, the act of it. 

and now the kingdom is offered to you, 

and you, in turn, offer up a kingdom as well. 

the dye is cast. the rose is tossed. 

the mind is empty and the kingdoms are surrendered. 

nakedness. nothingness. every beginning is new. 

-jobe

the trees are doing a wild dance

--

the wind is so strong today 

that there is no morning fog 

so strong in fact 

that the trees are doing a wild dance 

waving their many arms and fingers 

at the sky 

every now and then 

a piece of one breaks 

and tries to fly 

-jobe 

i choose to believe. i don't care what you do.

--

why are the rivers and seas 

lords of the waters? -lao tzu

the sea? the sea does exactly what it wants. you know that. 

the river is subtle, changing course once in a while on a whim. 

my eyes are blue seas, not a river. (i just had to say that.) 

great white sharks are circling, so swim at your own risk. 

is there hope? of course there is. faith has been left up to us. 

i choose to believe. i don't care what you do. it's a funny life. 

why are the rivers and seas lords of the waters?

why are the mountains and hills lords of the land? 

everyone and everything needs someone 

or something that they can look up to. 

i look up at the birds when they fly, but by god, 

when they walk they look up at me.

-jobe

learn the names of the plants

 --

walking the trail between 

the mountains and the cities 

the path of being a true human being 

the way between the light and the darkness 

you can see crows and owls and lizards 

skyscrapers and bridges

trucks laden with nothing important that drive

from nowhere that matters 

to a place without a name

look for the rivers 

look for the desert

learn the names of the plants 

sunrise and moonrise 

and the stars across the sky

this trail 

this path 

it goes on for one lifetime

you can stop where you want

or turn aside

and you can choose to walk to the end

but whatever you decide to do

keep your heart wide open

so the love can flow in and out

-jobe

cupping my hands to hold the water.

--

gravity is the root of grace,
        the mainstay of all grace.
        -lao tzu

cupping my hands like the fresh snow on the mountain. 

cupping my hands like pulling pearls from mollusks. 

cupping my hands to the chilling sound of another round being chambered. 

cupping my hands like the moon whispering stories to the starlight. 

cupping my hands like the government that spies on its own people. 

cupping my hands as the refugees are turned away. 

cupping my hands like the hungry, frightened child who was jailed at the border. 

cupping my hands to hold the bread. 

cupping my hands to hold the water. 

cupping my hands like the baked, dry land that cries out for water. 

cupping my hands like the wind as it slides through the trees. 

cupping my hands like the tears of the forgotten. 

cupping my hands as even more people become homeless. 

cupping my hands as even more people fall to the bullets and bombs. 

cupping my hands like the intentions of the river. 

cupping my hands like hope when it bursts into blossom. 

cupping my hands to offer love. 

cupping my hands like the truth of the prophet, bless'd be his name. 

cupping my hands like the truth of the buddha, the dharma. 

cupping my hands like the final breath of the very old. 

cupping my hands in prayer. 

cupping my hands in prayer. 

cupping my hands in prayer. 

-jobe

the darkness grows

--

Moonlight, waxing toward full, sweet 

Nightfall after an easy Indian Summer day. 

My parakeet sings along to the jazz on the radio. 

The darkness grows like a healthy child. 

-jobe