Flow

There is a stream of lines, flowing through people's minds.
The lines form waves and flow back and forth between us
as we share parts of our lives.

People live on inside of others even before they die-
strands of them live inside of others, joining life to life,
joining together differant streams of experience.

Strands pulsating within me are sending waves of friends' lives into my own stream of being, and transmitting my waves into their own living streams. We also share our dreams. To share is not to conquer or to submit. Have you ever felt like you had to give up your dreams for the dreams of someone else? But here dreams are joined and combined or they play off each other, feeding sparks into the flow.

When the flow is dammed up, and I become stagnant and sterile, please understand, and try not to judge. Please give me a hand to help me get my mind unjammed and my dreams sparkling again.
And you will hear that life in my voice again- the voice of life realized in acts of collaboration.

There is more of you in me than I wanted,
that or there isn’t quite enough.

As long as there is a me to speak of,
you will be there- that at least I do know.
I know it, so I don’t need
to promise it or threaten it. It is.

Our interconnectedness flows across time in undulating lines, bending,
but unbroken in spite of my best efforts/in spite of my worst efforts.
But now, thinking of you, I’m thinking of ways to welcome you.

Let the crackle of welcome
dart forth between bodies,
enveloping them in warmth,
powering joyful voices.

Let the joy of welcome
resound across distances-
celebrating differences
to bring them together,
making the meeting place
holy to all-
a place for every being’s
beautifully flawed
offering





Index

Out of the Blue

You know, there’s nothing to do when some day, out of the blue, the sky crashes down on you, or the ground gives way, all without warning- there’s nothing to do, then nothing at all, for things, well, things just fall, and people fall and then don’t get up again.

It was an ordinary day that turned extraordinary. There was no way of knowing- we thought we knew where we were going, but this time we were wrong. It was insane, and yet the pieces fit- things get hit, and then they fall. People are hit, then they fall. People are hit, then feel the dark power of resentment, they decide what it all meant, every opinion and every fact, they make plans, then they act. But no action creates satisfaction for long, for every action there’s a reaction before too long.

What now? There’s something happening, what can it be? A cop with a gun behind every tree. Well, there goes my day, perhaps my last, what can I say? Somebody set fire to his own mind, gathering power from being unkind in some mad extreme dream, a nightmare for all others around, that fierce piercing staccato sound burst forth out of the blue, through that door- nobody here knew what this day held in store- and now there's blood on the floor- pools and smears and a light gone out, a life extinguished.

Everything’s cloudy as far as I can see, there seems to be no kind of clarity to be found anywhere. I mean, is there? Forgive my incoherence but my world just isn’t making sense right now, the clouds are supercharged and loud and wildly charging through my thoughts, thoughts scattered like a house of cards toppled anew by what came at me out of the blue

Index