Dragonflies rise in the slow heat. Sugar falls from their exquisite wings onto the waiting tongues of all creation. What is tomorrow? It is nothing. Don’t even think of it. Rise now in the slow heat. Shake the sugar from your wings as you fly. All of life in the beating of fine wings in the slow warmth of the air.
That I might peel away the layers of nonsense I have built around myself that hide who I am. That I might know myself before the time of knowing comes to an end, and that I might use that knowledge, such as it is, in a positive manner. That I might be of some service to others.
All these years, decades together, that now the two of us have begun to remind me of those old people that hide their money in the pages of books and then forget about it. And we might do just that if we had any money. Dawn is still far off, but I am up already, making coffee as quietly as I can; you need more sleep than I do. I just need your love. And the coffee. You are smiling in your sleep when I peek in to check on you. Perhaps, even in your dreams, you know just how much I love you. My, what fine dark roast coffee this is.
Night arrived, right on time.
Moon, but no wind at all.
Life, as still as death.
Let there be peace.
Night, like a tent.
Moonlight, like a lantern.
Let there be peace.
Dawn is but a promise,
Not a guarantee.
What are we? We are those particles of dust that float in the sunlight pouring in through the open window. A good breeze and whoosh, we’re gone. Friend, we are not invincible. And that’s alright; did you want to live forever? Come. Let’s open all the windows and see what happens.
There is a lovely hill in my heart.
The sun rises on one side
And sets on the other. Perfectly.
At noon the sun is exactly above
The crest on my hill.
A lion lives here, and a bear,
And a dove. Wild flowers
And pine trees. Squirrels.
The sounds and smells of nature
Cover the hill. My hill.
And it is all in my heart.
'To write poems is to sit inside of the burning bush.' Li-Young Lee said that. The bush is no god, but it continues to burn and to make commands nonetheless. James said that. Climb inside with me. Bring pen and paper with you. There is much yet to do.