Field Theory

There is a field
between your thoughts
where love turns
particles into waves.
We are already
dancing there!


In the pathless way
the sign of progress
is that you're not as perfect
as you were yesterday…
Make a sacrament of
every broken vow
and turn your wounds
into mouths that sing.
Feel the Beloved’s nearness
in the warmth of your chest  
where music arises
from an unstruck bell.

Are you not most full
where you are most hollow?
The smoulder is unfathomably
gentle, yet its power
is mightier than all your 
strategies for self-protection.
Use this tenderness to touch
some small creature right
beside you,
and you will heal the ocean,
forest and sky.
Love is local, but its breath
sweeps the stars.

Collage by Rashani Réa

Bee Wild

My soul has nothing to do
with believing.
My essence is intensely
playful silence,
free of opinions
about anything.
I will meet you here
in a flash
of bewilderment.
I love that word:
it means to bee wild.

This tipsy troubadour
doesn't ask,
"What kind
of flower
are you?"
He is only interested
in the shock and sweetness
of connecting.