Do I live here

Can you tell me do I live here

I wake up dreaming

I am a red flame

streaking across a black sky

a voice calls out

what are you looking for

in bright orange letters

that blink and disappear

the voice from everywhere

booms out who are you

do you live here

are you in my dream

or am I in yours

then another red streak burns

across the black sky

and there are voices

they come from everywhere

can you tell me do I live here

What can you live with

Whatever you can live with

is yours

whatever you must fight against

is yours

whatever faults you find in others

are yours

whatever you admire the most in life

is yours

whatever fear you cannot escape

is yours

whatever you love with all your heart

is yours

Not speaking

Later in life I begin

to learn the benefit

of not speaking

by choice

and listening

with no desire

to change anyone

or anything

 

The left hand of opulence

The left hand of opulence
does not reach the bell that rings
when the game is over.

We went to over time
and no one found the keys
to the car that drives itself
into the deep puzzling waters
of beauty.

Beyond the screeching cries of lack
hands open and close without the prize
they cannot see and will not touch.

The silent silver bell rings
and the vibrations carry
far into the night.

Distant touching

Sometimes the distance

between us can be measured

by the wind blowing

high in the fir trees above us

you can hear them

rubbing gently against each other

and small birds singing

Green goes around

Green goes around in circles

blood red in a crooked line

blue is the ocean of everywhere

lapping the edge of time

 

while green continues growing

red is about to die

still there is a twinkling

in someone’s rosy eye

 

Time to go home

I have been in the habit

of living at the edge of clear

as children play at being adults

they wear their serious faces

and walk back and forth

with concern

now and then I stumble

across the line

of knowing the rules

of this game

we forget we’re playing

children laugh as they thrust

with their imaginary swords

into the hearts

of their playmates pretend body

then they hear their name called

and they shed the perfect passion

of their bodies of desire

it’s time to go home