Small Prilgrimage

Misty paths
Newly revealed
Receding floods
Ancient bedded
Found roads
Some small trace
A hint
You had been
A gracefully
Curved stem
Sinuous in
Falling rain
Flowers early
Washed away
Tiny seeds nuts
Fruits children
Fallen petals
A mosaic of memory
Shuffled stirred
Forest creatures
Or lingering
As do we all
Feathers one
Kind and another
Tell stories
Of care
Work of love
Turning of cycles
In all directions
Beloved and lover
Acolyte and wisdom
The nomad migrant
Lives always
Home is shelter
Punishing instruction
Drifting as a
Lost peregrination
Guiding wind touches
Her unseen beauty
Whispering silence
Creating direction
Dispersing time
Covered concealed
By itself
By the fallen
Eons written
In all colors
Morning sky
Among roots
Trees lend voice
To the voiceless
Sharing rain’s song
The language of wind
The silence of knowing
The stillness
Waiting within
Spiraling season’s
Small pilgrimage
Bear … 02.28.2015


Come Voice

Come Voice
Come speak for me
There is much to say
And nothing is my own
All has been given away
Yet there is the unsaid
Which exists unsayable
Regenerated in Voice
Come Voice
Come speak for me
Speak the unspeakable
In this strange
World of words and symbols
Where some few of us agree
To allow meaning to reside
Holding the infinite close
As illusions more
Comfortable than home
Come  Voice
Come speak for me
Sing with Beauty Voice
That is forever denied
Pretty does not dress our
Eyes with stars nor
Is hair spun with honey
Yet always we have lived
As the seasons in their
Progress and the stars
In their poems
Slumbering in anguish and joy
Come Voice
Come speak for me
Flow through me
To myself as all hearing
For we are all the same
Sad heart beating
Wistful sorrow
Come Voice
Come speak for me
Sooth with unknown harmony
A perfect Enlightenment
That I as myself
A cosmic joke
Shall never be
Hearts altogether
We already are laughing
In remembrance of
When we were not
Come Voice
Come speak for me
Inextricably woven together
We yearn as one
To hear ourselves
Speak as the Voice
That we barely imagine
Foolishly striving to
Transform already
Formless mysteries
Into the infinite
Chorus of light
A music that is
One sound beyond hearing
That is the Voice
Folding stretching
Contracting swirling
In more dimensions
Than are knowable
Come Voice
Come speak for me
Resonate the unspeakable
Sing the unknowable
Dance the dance
That is more than power
Come Voice
Come speak for me
When there is one
Perfect enlightenment
So shall we all
Be set free
Instantly and simultaneously
As we always have been
Come Voice
Come speak for me
Speak the Mobius echo
There is more than infinity
We all are Thee
Come Voice
Come speak for me
Bear … 02.25.2015

Angel’s Tears

Whose song shall I sing
When the voices of trees
Loose language?
Shall there be a song
Of wild winds howling through
Dead branches and empty sky?

May I sing of star memories,
Those eons of lonesome brightness,
Uncountable in their vastness?

Are there ballads recounting
Tales when there was nothing,
Before the birth of time?

Can I sing about tomorrow
Before our own wane sun rises
Coldly burning away all hope?
Will you allow that I
May sing a lullaby of nonsense,
To sooth our sleepless dreams?
Oh My Love, I foolishly cry
My song through my unspoken words.
Who listens to hear silent music?
The chorused pain of Angels sings,
In roaring silence, resonance
Periods too long for corporal ears.
But I do see in the darkness,
Sparkling and dazzling rainbows
Of whirling Angel’s tears.