Inside the withered
gray cocoon
there's a rainbow.
Just wait a little while.
Who put it there?
Not you, not I,
not the wandering
poet, Jesus,
but the secret breath of joy
who rearranges our dust
in darkness.
Photo: Laurent Berthier
Blue
Here is all
the politics we need:
Blue sky pervades
each atom
of your body.
Blue sky pervades
each atom
of my body.
Where you are, I am.
Where I am, you are.
Translucent wings
of the turquoise moth
dancing in radiance.
All our troubles
woven in the veil
of a single thought:
"I am not You."
Just letting
this thought dissolve
is Love.
Photo by Laurent Berthier
Shabbat
Shabbat, in Hebrew, does not mean the Sabbath, or
Seventh Day, or even Rest; it literally means, 'Stop!'
“Be irrelevant.
Let snowdrops
flower without
you.”
These are voices if you listen.
The slug on a crocus,
a doe savoring young clover,
waves of new moon
caressing your pupils,
all whispering
in wordless earnest,
"We don't need you.
Your absence is holy.
It is for us a deeper presence.
Thank you,
but this is our planet.
We perform virescent deeds
of Imbolc, Equinox, and Spring
without using your mind.
We are grateful to you
for not interfering in our
tiny miracles of quietness.
Just listen and witness,
don't even pray."
These are voices on the verge
of creation.
"Learn from melting snow
how to dance, how to perish,
how to be here and
not here.
Just for an hour
on a Sabbath morning,
give up knowing.
The earth won't disappear.
You will.
Go fallow and cease,
refresh the meadow."
Yes, these voices, this
homily of silence.
"Sink down
into your
barefoot sole,
your breath a hollow path
for the muddy sun.
Let the falling
of attention
burst open the golden
swamp cabbage.
Permit the trillium,
shy star of the fern forest,
to fill you with joy.
Let snowdrops
flower without
you.
Be irrelevant."
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