music is jewels
hung in sky between my eyes
water laps my feet

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The Hardest Question

I struggled hard for air with every breath
She looked just like a grandma, or a queen
When I had ventured close enough to Death
To glimpse enough to know what I had seen
So regal, yet so humble, she became
Yet radiant as lit from the inside
So loving, yet such sternness, all the same
The things that left impressions on my mind
She did not weigh a feather by my heart
She did not feed my soul to any beast
She merely asked a question, one which starts
To show what matters most, what matters least:
     “And did you act from love and only love?”
     And after that, no question is as tough.

Summer Balloon Mind (2004)

Forgotten fireflies in the dark
Dew shoved hot into my face
The balloons and my mind
Soared high with a short tether
Air thick with the certainty
Hypnotic draw of the unspoken
But alas, not the unspeakable

Punched holes in a muggy brain
Thrust and pinned against a tree
We bounced against the branches
Searched up in the sky
Flitted with the air currents
Chased the misty mirages
Never expected the sun

The Singing Tree (2004)

She said the ocean, she was sure
We retraced our steps down the rocky cliff
Stars staring down pinpricks into my head
The human condition, she said
The fog obscured my frantic blundering
World whirling in the rain at the top of the tree
We sang a wordless melody
The air sang back to us
She said the ocean, but I was sure the tree
Dug roots into our hearts

Your Air and My Air

I may not be
The sort of person who can
Soar through the clouds
As if my intellect has wings
I’ve told you this
So many times
You might tire of hearing it

You might tire of hearing how
The soil of the redwoods sustains me
And gives me a knowledge
Wholly unlike your own

But I am
The sort of person who
Can scramble up the redwood trees
And as long as I remain safe in their branches
Connected to the earth through their trunks
And as long as I remain connected to water
Through the mist they drink in through their leaves

Then I can take in the air, the heights
I can think far and wide
I can put words together

I can do all those airbound intellectual things
Without the benefit of wings
As long as I stay connected
To the mist and the soil

So don’t write me off as saying
There’s no place in my life
To be up in the air
I just get there differently than you do

And my mind works differently
Because of its constant connection
To the ground and the mist
Without which I become hopelessly disoriented
Because my air is not your air
And going where you go…
It feels too much like endless falling
Tumbling without anything to anchor me
— I’ll stick to the trees, thank you.