I taste the grains on my lips I feel its coarseness Softened and weighted by recent rains I am packed down and in It is comfortable and cool And it is heavy. I feel close to rest But my breath Yearns to emerge If my eyelids had the strength, They’d see no mile markers. There are no roads here. There is only soil ripe for seed. But, I wonder Does a seed ever ask itself, “How do seeds grow?”

The collective experience is made up of Individual experiences We are each the experiencers That make up the Whole That we know Are wars a result of our collective traumas? Surely so. So, then, how do we remedy The needless, incessant barrage of rage and greed That never-ending cycle of destruction Along with…

Wading into the honey An ancient life — thick Like a warm blanket I bathe in the solar crystals That dance in my eyes A palpable emergence As I submerge Deeper and deeper in Until my eyes, covered In empty space, there is more to see Infinite realities unfolding forever and ever And ever, until I am not Something in me must die away I feel the shapes moving — Through, then beyond me I let her wash over my being And take whatever she needs

I aim to feel as an empty frame Poised and ready to be filled, erased Filled, erased, filled, erased A portal, ever-changing Adapting, transporting Self and others to the unknown place Wondrous and full, when we gaze and engage I long to be filled with greatness Oozing from the frame My cup overflowing, eternally To be filled with greatness, surely Requires a beginning, empty So, I aim to be an empty frame Poised and ready to be filled, erased Filled, erased

To those that ask “Why there, when here?” With a flood of reasoning Practical, philosophical I can only convey The impulse, through feeling Have you never lifted the window frame And stealthily rushed out, Smile on your face Not stopping to announce Where you’re off to Nor explaining Why? Have you never craved To defy the boundary? Has the fine line That measures the box Never called to tease you, And will you out From your comfortable place, Nor challenged you To defy, to accept The worthy risk?

I feel in flux. Not there, but on my way. Not there, just left. Suspended here, contemplating the way. Designing the place, still, where I’ll land. Almost a sense of loss, but why? Excitement is there, beneath, waiting. So many ways to manifest the visions. Overwhelmed, now, with option. Loss…

Like my tongue to taste Like my nose to smell As my eyes to sight And my ears to sound So too, it seems Is my mind to thought Ideas flood in, and Conversations begin with Words and emotions Rolling on waves In and out My mind, a net Large, half-mangled Twisting-turning, now With concern and doubt And, grand schemes And, all variety Of practical things Like my tongue to taste Like my nose to smell As my eyes to sight And my ears to sound So too, it seems Is my mind to thought

I am happy to find myself here again––next to the window with an astounding binaural soundtrack. Black birds chatter close, then far away in my left ear. The slop-slop-slopping of my dog’s tongue on water, then crunching his protein squares, in my right. Now that I’m leaning in, I hear…

Pour the ocean into my cup Sip by sip, I drink it up Fire warping, ever-stretching Graceful fingers through the distance Poking holes into the clouds Pouring through to burn them down Clearing way for its path So it can freely play and dance Along the crests and to the land To cast upon the dying Its force of warmth and light here We, absorbing and reflecting It is the gift that keeps on giving