Stargazing

Surrender.
Peer into the
vast
vast
black night
and wonder:
Here pinpoints in the heavens
There giant fiery suns
The oldest sight seen on Earth
arriving constantly

What is keeping you?
Seek.
The depths await
Your curiosity -
one mind, one being,
on one planet around one star
hurtling through one galaxy
in ignorance

Yet,
precious is that one life,
unique that awareness
marveling out into the
expanse
of the universe.

Sunday

Light
strolling in from summer afternoon
through veiled curtains
radiates a peace unknown

Music
tumbling over itself
rippling as a river
joyous as he who plays it

Grin
the irresistable affection
for all these, the family
sparkling in her eyes

Laughter
they can't contain it any longer
it's dancing on their faces
undaunted

by the hush
of church on Sunday

paradox

To the volunteers
whose wages are wisdom:

Depart, but do not leave
Return, but do not stay
Wander homeless among many homes

Recover, but do not heal
Mourn, but do not despair
Let your heart be torn apart - it brings the world together

Accept, but do not settle
Retreat, but do not surrender
Discover that the struggle is the mission, the defeat is the victory

Seek, but also shepherd
See, but also dream
Teach the self to live selfless

When you stand with a foot in both worlds,
both hands held in distant lands,
stretched to the limit,
hold tight to the power of love
and the paradox will make sense.

gray

Black and white is easy
simple, clean cut, defined
sort everything into piles
categorize into dewey decimal files
a place for everything, and everything in its place
confident in the spic n' span plan
right and wrong, left and right
segregated in unending cubicles
black, white, black, white
row on endless warehoused row
under the glare of the fabricated fluorescent light

But gray is difficult
nuanced, unknown, unclear
Gray the twilight, gray the dawn
clinging to the edge of sunset
awaiting light's waking yawn
Gray the smoke of passion that burns
all our bridges
gray the ashes to which we return
Yes, gray the transition,
where black meets white
when steely silk fibers web artificial divisions
and we see our pretense
in attempts to define transcendance.

Black White
Light Dark
Night Day
Life Death:
Paradox won't fit in a box.
(Ever.)

complacency

A damp fog is settling in again
chilling my bones with the sedative for unfeeling
clouding my vision with the haze of unseeing
It wraps me in the drab cocoon
of life as usual
isolated, individual
Its eerie calm, its sickly comfort,
a pall of gray indifference
The emeralds and jades
of joy passion pain
protest
the entombment from the living hills
but the last of the faithful sentinels
vanish in the mist.