Free Verse # 360 (unheard untouched unsean)

When spring shakes
his flowery branch and sings
do not wonder, that is me,
come back from the dead to show you
what it means to be free,
what it means to live
without restlessness and fear.


Her touch reminds me
of the deep presence
from which I was born.

Like a roaming ribbon of fragrance
her touch recalls me
into the heart of the flower.


People wish to travel places,
but this being with you
is all the places in one,
and your single touch
completes the journey home.


This heavy ache inside
at dawn a wound gushing
unheard untouched unseen
with the silent scream
of a distant star


Incarnate solitude…
heart become a bowl
welling to overflow
with the bitterness of tears


Since I cannot pen my joy
let me pen my tears,
into the heart of solitude
let my pen weep.


Can the world be fixed?
The silent jasmine,
The rising moon.

Wandering Thought # 31

Life is a power that is only capable of laughter. Even in death and decay, a fine ear can hear her laughing — and not a cynical laughter, but the laughter of power, the laughter of a being infinite in her energy. Nor do we need to wait for the onset of death and decay to experience that communion, be forced into it, to live out our ultimate openness with a heart ready to turn existence into a continual feast and celebration.

The Turn

Unable to find you
out in the world
I turned inward
to the source
of incompletion and ache
and found that my heart
in its reckless longing
was erecting itself
as a temple
with your light for its pillars,
with your love
an unshakable fountain of joy
revolving in its center.

I turned inward
but then, marvelous inversion!
your light flowed out
and etched itself
into the fiber of the world.

Where are you now?
A fluid motion
moving all around,
a moving ocean
without edges or shores
hovering nimbus
over the entire creation,
sweeping it in its onrush
to the center of the soul.

Who are you now?
All the names
that ever went down in history
and all the names
that fell out,
forgotten and unknown,
you are the source of naming itself,
and the hover of silence
in the secret heart of dawn.

Free Verse # 359 (again and again)

The rays of dawn
slide through the clouds;
inside my ribs
an empty nest
aches and shivers
with a handful
of burning ash,
the smoldering remnants
of a poem
consumed by longing.


Place your lips on mine
and whisper
your heartbeats,
these grains of incense
amid your ribs burning
in the fire of forever,
that fated fire bound
to merge us one.


Again and again
tight against its bud
the flower of my heart
folds its petals.

Again and again
your touch flings me open,
deeper in the realization
of the reality of love.


Where are you
Photographer unknown

Who are you,
you whose breath
has always whispered
like a dawn in my heart?

Where are you,
you whose heart beats in me
deeper than the voice of life?


Night gazing in
through the window –
on the table
a book of poetry
and a burning candle –
somewhere in the deep
the voice of love.


Heart decimated
by the pain of absence.

Heart becoming
for longing the oil
sustaining the candle
of the deeper heart.