I have come this long way alone
not knowing I could look into the lake
and see the companion looking back at me.

my hand is empty, but the water
is moving and full
and the way behind me is closed,
and the hill has a door I cannot open.

each eye counts stars, places them
in the wild cold sky.

across the water, the stone flies
drops finally and protests a little,
flinging the element out of itself.

limb to limb,
we bring the night down
to rap on the roof of the shore.

tiamat

bring me empty to your house
to your indwelling, greet me
clothe me with the breaking wave of your love.
I hear the drum knocking under your floor
in the attic, the world hangs from threads
constantly attended.

in my hands, you place thunder after thunder,
salt under my tongue, blind-worm’s-voice in my words
when I’m sent away, I can only speak
one grain at a time.

we claim blinding in darkness as though there were no suns;
wilting in winter to prove the nonexistence of spring.

bent our eyes to the road, and yet it has an end-
knocked down the tree to give the lie to growth.

departing, we fail to see we’ve begun another way home
while no seed lacks loss or birth.

small seed
curled up in the darkness
all the suffering
is a drop moving through the water
and the rain forces the stem to pierce
the weight of the world hanging on
- with resignation, facing day
for a lack of choices
in the other direction.

fearless

fearless

Originally uploaded by entheos

gossamer

gossamer

Originally uploaded by entheos

luminous

luminous

Originally uploaded by entheos

don’t look in the mirror
it tells you we’re meeting
when we’ve already left that place
and come back to the starting point.

when the candle is lit
don’t shake the spent match
blaming it for lacking the quality it gave away,
cup your hands around the flame for the heat
warm yourself at the fire,
not the cause.

once you’ve stopped looking,
I’ll touch your shoulder, brush your face.
we’ll meet once your eyes are closed
and you’re sitting calmly
- not waiting, but already met.

call out to me,
send me a message by the wind.

every night,
I’ll press my ear against
each passing breeze-

I promise I’ll read it
turning it over and over
until the scraps
fall to the heart.