iii.

i thought i lost you:

on my own—

 

twist of lightning;

home alone.

 

open-chested

trinity:

 

a paradox of

riches—

 

first steps,

first stay,

 

first time

driving away;

 

the lonely light house

winks at the bay.

 

and we lay, we lay,

we lay down our dark

 

arms and rub up against

the furry light of day.

 

 

 

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superstition

you say the earth is my mother;

you remind me that she was there

to make me a mother, to make me

strong. i was a wolf once, and will

be again. many wolves come from me;

this is our tribe. inside, we are great

enough to hold a universe of paradox:

infinite paradigms, parallel lines

running alongside but never touching.

that’s what the circles are for.

we crawl in and out of this pack

design, through the mandala canal,

straight into the mind of god.

in the cracks between

to be both ethereal
and grounded—this

is the daily plight
and pleasure: to be

among the living, the
crawling, the feeling,

the dying—while still flying,
wings spread, head tilted

knowingly toward the un-
known. dreams are grown in the

cracks between: kicking up the dirt
of our warring-beautiful striving.

love: a valentine all to your self

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love your god

love your child

love your clan

love your pet

 

love your friend

love your neighbor

love your town

love your world

 

love your humble

love your stars

love your boys

love your girls

 

love your weary

love your homeless

love your inner child

love your inner goddess

 

love your play

love your work

love your silence

love your words

 

love your weakness

love your strength

love your order

love your mess

 

love your past

love your present

love your future

love your senses

 

love your drive

love your sloth

love your spirit

love your naught

 

love your loss

love your dance

love your certainty

love your chance

 

love your heartbreak

love your pain

love your surrender

love your sustain

 

love your triumphs

love your mistakes

love the haunting sound the train makes

love the tree, the flower, the grass, the bird, the sunrise, the moon, the thunderstorm, the surge

 

love your self

love all that is yours, and all that is not yours

love that to have and to hold goes beyond the physical realm

love that the most beautiful things are not things and are too vast and miraculous to be possessed

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