to enjoy what was

take me to your timberline,

show me where your true self ends

 

and your truer self begins.

i want to see in:

 

i want the spiral of a dream to take me

out of time,

 

put me in the womb,

put me on the edge of battle,

 

put me in the pack

chasing survival;

 

to forget the forgetting,

to feel the source,

 

to see the spine of life continuing

as it passes through doors.

 

to enjoy what was

is to carve joy

 

into what is,

into what will be again:

 

it is all the same clay, the same

tools, the same deep grooves.

 

you call me to the fire, and

i answer with water;

 

and we sit at the edge of the mountain

and conspire to love.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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eighth

o ye of little faith,

o ye of tiny bank account,

o ye of large heart,

o ye of many worries,

 

o ye of few true friends,

o ye of precious child,

o ye of perpetual exhaustion,

o ye of strong passions:

 

if you have but the faith of a mustard seed—

yet even a half, a quarter, an eighth—

 

you shall be seen and heard; you shall be

provided for; you shall inherit the mountain.

declaration of independence

when, in the course of four

mountains, one encounters the

four winds, and the four directions

by which they came;

 

when the buck meets you on the

borderland and says: we are one

in the same; when the eye of the

cliff excoriates your four-score soul;

 

when you descend from the perfect-union

heights and wend your way down, down

into the well of stars to find the cell-singing

mountain bending beneath your feet;

 

when, in the course of four

sky-strings, you let go and

fling yourself off this earth

engine; and open every door.

when