My longing is of a soft dawn
Rubbing its possibilities in my face
And brightening my countenance
With pale yellow light,
Until I reach that place where thoughts
Become trees reaching
For their potential.
My eyes are open to the songs of wind.
My thoughts echoing the migratory cries of summer
Winding its way home.
The soft chiffon of sky is swaddling the bare black world
As my ears capture the rain of star dust
Nourishing another year’s end
With ancestral prayers.
Have you ever looked at your own reflection
In the surface of the sea?
Then you will know the secret of life:
Your face a part of the sea,
Solid only in the shallow, close to land.
But then, as the sea deepens, it loses its shape
And expands, becoming the sea itself,
As it laughingly color the ripples
With its everlasting jigsaw presence.
If you break, break deeply,
Like tide all the way into the shallow coves,
So that even the sharpest rocks must give into you
And loose their pointy edges.
Your soul is like that tide,
If you allow it it will wash over you with its full force,
And slowly and persistently blunt your own
Sometime we get lost in the inscrutability
Of our lives, like ships in fog.
Until a conch blower, with homemade night goggles,
comes along and sweeps us off our feet.
But perhaps being lost is not so bad.
You certainly don’t need night goggles
To look inside your own soul.
You are not just a child of your parents,
you are a child of the sea, the mountains,
the sky and the woods.
They are your creators
and you are their beloved.
And as you love and care for your parents,
you must love and care for all those who love you;
for the sea, for the mountains, for the sky
and for the woods.
Love is not a duty, it is a gift;
the giving of it and the receiving of it
is what holds the fabric of this world together.
It is life, and without it there can be none.