One Song

This ever-present moment that is now 
waits for nothing - 
neither struggle nor sickness, 
nor disease or dysfunction
can change this...
this moment is all there is.

This moment cannot be placed on hold,
eagerly awaiting a time in which
we are more prepared for its presence.

This moment persists 
whether we are aware of it or not;
recognized or overlooked, celebrated or shirked,
this ever approaching, always fleeting moment
is immutable...
this moment is everything.

The more we grapple and cling for control,
the more this moment begs our surrender - 
the calm horse that doesn't buck
as we throw ourselves to and fro.

We do ourselves no favor
by projecting forward, by regressing back,
for these apparitions of the mind
are neither here nor now.

For all our avoidance and creative contrivances,
for all our procrastination and self-pity,
the inevitable we must face.

Beyond the illusion of space and time
there is one song - 
we sing and are sung simultaneously.

Hold this moment,
this one song dear,
for it holds no judgment,
it holds no fear. 

Unvoid

Dogs sleep 
like old mens' hands feel,
somewhere on the brink
between life and death,
somewhere in the void. 

Unvoid...
where ghost framed 
silken images hang
like treasures to be worshiped.
Where antenna ears
filter beats from the now.
That ageless wonder,
that ever-existent instant that is now 

Cold black noses
tether teeth and lips,
and yet
the beast is not here,
not in skin or bone.
But again she breathes so softly -
gallivanting in that mind malleable realm,
the place where we've met
time and time again.
Sharing soft sweet kisses
painted with the sun.

Eyelids closed be beam inward,
where emotions speak images.
That ageless wonder,
that sweet dream taste.
   
 
    

Borderland

There's a dog that's not there,
there's a man with no hair,
there's a rhyme
that shouldn't be spoke.
There's a dump that's on fire,
and blood they perspire  
in a wasteland
where we try not to choke.
The plants have all died,
there's something rotting inside
in a warehouse
where chemicals leak.
And I stumble the fray,
broken hands held to pray,
but I'm awake 
and alas
I feel bleak.
   

Meteorite

This evening, driving home,
the road scrolling beneath my wheels,
evening grasping the sky.
It screams downward,
angled sharp,
a burning hot ember,
a trail of fire and smoke,
its head so white
it's almost clear,
an ever-changing corona - 
now mauve,
now sterling,
now platinum -
a metamorphosing gash
in the cerulean sky,
a crack between worlds.

It nears the mesa,
ever smaller,
and I forget
the road,
I forget
my obligations,
I forget
the groceries 
in the back seat -
its magnetism calls me.
Wordless it reminds:
a moment alone,
without time. 

Chant

3 by 3 by 3
it is done,
bury your dead,
bring me a gun,
hand me your teeth,
full of decay,
spread out a sheet
for us to play. 

Pandora's Box

Secrets come in small packages,
hidden in dark places,
where untrained fingers fall short.
Do you wonder about these packages,
what hides within them,
like Russian dolls within dolls within dolls,
like an onion ever-smaller yet ever larger;
yet is the code worth the energy
it will take to break it?