in the next room, in the next song, in the laugh

of the next stranger. In the very center, under

it all, what we have that no one can take

away and all that we’ve lost face each other.

It is there that I’m adrift, feeling punctured

by a holiness that exists inside everything.

I am so sad and everything is beautiful.

The Beauty of Less

THE BEAUTY OF LESS

We think to get what

we want is our destiny.

But to reach and miss

lets us land where we are.

This is the maturing of our

destiny. And landing there

lets the light in each moment

emanate like the sun. Holding

stones and pain and each other

in this light turns ambition

into being. The beauty of less

lets the seed of everything

sprout within us.

Between the Wall and the Flame

BETWEEN THE WALL AND THE FLAME

You ask, “How can you believe in

anything when there’s pain everywhere?”

And I see the pain in your face. I have no

answer, anymore than day can make its case

in the middle of the night. Yes, things are

breaking constantly and people, bent from

their nature, are cruel and our desperation

leads us to an excess that is even too heavy

for the planet to bear. Yet, I am in a wine

bar in Hell’s Kitchen, against a brick wall,

and the small flame from the oil lamp is

letting the wall whisper its long history.

And somehow in the lighted inch of

brick, what matters flickers and I feel

everything. Something between the wall

and the flame flutters like a butterfly

carrying the secret of peace, unseen,

unnoticed. And even seeing it, and

feeling it briefly, I don’t know how to

speak of it. It’s as if under the earthquake

of existence, an infinite hand holds the

ball of fire that is our world. Now someone

nearby pokes me and asks, “So, are

you talking about God?” This is beyond

anything I have a concept for. We’re like

small urchins churned over in the surf of

time. There’s so much more than we can

know. But you are still hurting. So I’ll

stop talking. Come, put your head

on my shoulder.

Eventually

EVENTUALLY

We stop trying

to carry all that we know

as if it will protect us.

If lucky, we are forced

to accept that under

what we think is ours

is the beginning

of what no one owns.

At last, we are

humbled to dip our face

in the same well.

It is the look of your

face and mine

lifting from that well

that frees me.

Thrown Back

THROWN BACK