The Dream
Rainy Season
Escape Velocity


Today the beds didn’t get made.

Today I didn’t take a shower
until 4:00. p.m.

Today the dishes didn’t get done
nor the groceries bought.

Today instead of doing what I should
I did what I must.
I did what I loved.
I did what I was called to do.

And the world around me calmed and stilled
conspiring to reach my goal.

As clients cancelled meetings
and email crawled to a halt
I lived today’s moments
as all moments deserve to be lived;

in the sanctuary of the here and now.
In the treasured nook
of a happy heart.

The Dream

Last night I had a dream.
We were in bed
making love, fun and carefree
like always in the early days
tossing and tumbling in the covers,
two became one
an effortless expression
of unity and ecstasy.

there was a knock on the door.
It opened, and you entered.
Not the you under the covers;
but an older, wearier version
gray instead of ebony-haired
worn down by worry of the future
and regret of the past.

Tired, he put down his briefcase,
sat on the bed
not noticing the lovers already there,
he stared away, preoccupied as usual.

I watched, and I wondered.
Underneath the outer shell
which is the real you?
Which will prevail?
Who will stay
and who will go?

In dreams, or waking
I know which is which
and who is who.
For me, there is no contest between them
and I am certain who I chose.

Yet I wonder
in the harsh light of day
are you aware there are two of you?
Can you tell them apart?
And can you, will you
lay down your buden
and vanquish the older you
for the dreamer to live and love again?

Rainy Season

Monday 8/24/2009

The clouds open and cry my tears for me.
Raindrops slide
Down the face of my car window
Leaving their tracks and traces
But also washing it clean and beading
In perfect little jewels.
Diamond droplets so plentiful
I could scoop them up by the handful.

The cascading rain on the car roof
Echoes in steady, weakening sobs;
Consistent, then slowly quieting.

It makes no sense for me to physically cry.
My tomorrow will be much the same as today.
Similar frustrations will shove their way
To the forefront,
Be dealt with,
And meekly scurry to the background
Awaiting a new day for their chance to
Rant and stomp again

In the meantime
Florida’s summer clouds
Release my sadness and exasperation
On a much grander scale
Than I could manage on my own.

And in the end I am cleansed.

Escape Velocity

Gravity pulls, tugs, sucks until
bond broken,
there’s a pop of release
and the rocketing upward;
soaring, coasting, rushing forward
into the yonder.

In flight I can breathe completely
Suspended, floating
Utterly outside
the bonds of space, time, place
A welcome disconnect
from the chaos below

is punctuated only be the sound of rushing air
or pristine stillness.
There’s time to think here
above it all.

In flight I can see infinitely
By day the expansive cyan of sky
and inviting cushions of cottony clouds
paint unending vistas.
Later the dark cashmere of night sky
strewn with diamonds
yields no borders

What if we could soar at will?
Achieve escape velocity
for just an hour or two?
What if when we’re so grounded
we run the risk of burial
we could sever gravity’s ties
And free our souls as well?

If I could fly
beyond all earthly attachments
I’d ride a gentle jet stream
until it lulled me back to peace,
to the state between sleep and waking
that is simple existence
without judgment or thought.
Just being
Just love

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