January 23rd

My grief is as vast as an ocean
Its waves tsunamis.

I want you to head for safety.

I want you to stand at the receding waters and call me forth
Unafraid of drowning in my sorrow.

1:00 AM

Awake,
Listening through every inch of being
For the sounds of my Beloved
Sleeping or stirring.

Beloved is a word used by Rumi.

What if it wasn't Shams in Rumi's poems?
What if Shams and Rumi were the same person?
What if Rumi meant the self?
Or maybe Rumi meant both the self and other?

The self that is a part of the Dao, God, Allah, Jehovah...
What if we referred to our own selves as the Beloved?

Awake,
Anxious for sounds that my Beloved is healing,
I await sleep.

Smiles

I do not want to write about what is on my mind.
I want to paint pictures of sunny days, flowers in full bloom,
Warm breezes, fuzzy feelings.
I do not want to be honest about what I'm feeling.

What I am feeling is a bottomless well of grief.
If I shared all the grief in my lungs, bones, muscles and heart
It would fill the room, no matter how large or small,
It would fill it.
I'm not sure you can swim in my grief.
I'm not sure I can swim in my grief.

The ocean surrounded by fire
That is my heart.

I don't want to share this. I want to share beautiful things.
Lovely things that make the world a better place.
Not sadness of loss, of my own and others'.

I don't want to open my heart to you.
I'm not cold or shy.
I'm not heartless or strong.
I'm terrified the contents of my heart are toxic.
I'm stuck in the fear
Fear that what my heart holds
Overwhelms
Drowns
Scares.

Let me tell you lovely tales of survival,
Joy,
Love,
Kindness,
Spirit,
Friendship,
Generosity,
All the lovely things that make you want to be around me.

Let me show you only my smile.
My lovely smile that everyone says is contagious.
Please let me just show you that smile
Smile and eyes that are so good at reflecting back goodness.

Reflections on the Path

Already my center has shifted.

I am no longer sitting beneath the willow when I am in reverie
I am the willow
I am powerful and luminescent
I am golden warm lithe.

Rooted deeply
I grow towards the heavens
I become infinite as I move upwards and so solid as I grow deeper.

I am so light your pulse, her exhale, his inhale, ripples through me
Yet I stand firm and still and tall, able to support you and your waves of being.

I accumulate and expand as I breathe in and I become the nothing that is everything as I let the breath go.

I am wiser and more naive
I am opened raw as I grow fresh boundaries
I am motivated to the action that is a vibrating stillness.

Late Summer Morning

The news of rain reaches my nose first
Dissipating dust, heat and the opening of plant pores waft into my bedroom window
Just above my half sleeping form

I become alert, breathe more easily as I cool and everything around me cools.

Between exhales of relief, the tension of hot days evaporating,
I grieve

Tomatoes, melons, children from my past, friendships with elders
That will never reach their full fruition.

What I Can Give You

I can sit silently holding your grief in my arms, cradling it to me,
This chasm pulling you inward,
Taking your hand and holding you there until you are ready to crawl out.
Hearing what shouldn't be and what you don't want to share.
Feeling your pain within my marrow - circulating, pinching my muscles and becoming my own.

Welling up inside of me is a warrior, six feet tall, muscled, immovable,
Fierce, Shiva-Amazon-bear-banshee-malevolent-Pandora-huntress-Woman.
Unleash her for you, breathing, exhaling,
Winds that wipe away those who would wound you.
Let her move hearts for you with her gaze and presence,
Standing her ground until your will is done.
Holding time for you until you are your own army.

I can stand back and let you fight, ready to soothe your wounds.
Feed you, encourage you, push you forward.
Mara mother, Tara teacher, birthing you back to your own battle.

I can share your joy. I can quote Sufi lovers to you,
Men who experience the divine ecstasy of the mystery that is what connects you and me
You and them
Me and them.
Orthodox Jews who explain I and Thou.
Women who dance over fires and welcome each other to the struggle to be witnesses
To the experience of now, but can hold your yesterday and face you toward tomorrow.

I can tell you what I see in you,
Or what you need to hear right now.
I can sit with your indecision, or wait patiently as you get sidetracked,
Allowing you to make mistakes that aren't really mistakes, but aren't your true self.
I will be here waiting for you on the other side of this labyrinth
Winding us what seems like further apart but getting us closer to our centers.

It is my purpose and my meaning,
My need and my gift,
What I can share.

Hope Frozen

Today I tossed 7 little plastic bottles of hope into the dumpster.

7 frosted-over vials of love and wishes
breast milk for a baby who will never drink it

little labels with cartoon elephants
marked 2:50 AM

mom's sleepless night
dad's shift at the NICU

7 little containers holding so many possible futures gone

my hands are still cold despite hugs and words unspoken 
there are no words that heal the loss that leaves 7 little bottles frozen.