(for Stephen)
There’s a certain point in summer
when it feels like it’ll last forever
a dazed mix of complacency and lethargy
when everything is tired
from the gardens, to the dogs, to our senses.
Satiated perhaps, but it’s something more,
a sense we have arrived at the peak of the peak season,
the fullness of Leo,
in all his solar glory,
and what can top that?
Of course this is about the exact time the nights get cooler,
we notice the peak has passed,
and winter approaches
with all those chores undone.
So is life....
in all its simplicity,
and yet with this endless cycle of seasons
the endless cycle of human ups and downs also churns on,
all the things that
naturally arise in our habitual
dualistic mind.
And this is far more taxing and exhausting
than the external heat and dust and smoke,
exhausting and overwhelming,
at least for me.
So a good friend tells me something today
he probably didn’t make up
but just as easily as anyone could have;
“Everything you need you can get from a single exhalation.”
(Originally published in my 3rd book, Sun Made Flesh and Fiber, 2019)
The heat of summer gradually subsides
A coolness comes to Earth, to air, to tides
The architects of castles in the sand
Return to classrooms, teachers, books and band
Our gardens nearing final days and hours
Yield happily the last of fruits and flowers
A message comes to visit on the breeze
It's written on the color-changing trees
This pass of summer cannot be delayed
But we can still remember how we played
Come breath of freshness, as the seasons change
Our nature canvas now will rearrange
The sun will sooner rest low in the sky
A cotton candy treat then for the eye
Soon Mums and gourds and pumpkins on the porch
Of hay bails and a scarecrow tiki torch
So welcome hues of reds and golden glow
Dear Autumn, let your pleasing pace be slow
EXHALE
There is no end to my exhale;
flowering emptiness filling me, infinitely.
Subsurface tides of me rush recede and
waters winds in beautiful tandems leap.
With in-breath I am remembering my birth,
with out-breath I my dying.
When I am silent to the very bone,
beyond myself, my edges blur and free
what choruses now, what string, what flute notes drum
who is it who sings to and through me?
When life and love breathed exactly into this world,
and I became here, was someone beside me then?
What did my face look like
before I was conceived?
Soft fingers drift like waves along the shore
Unraveling the days tight knots once more
A hush blooms deep where quiet starts to pour
And every breath sinks lighter than before
Smoke in, ash out
Moss squishes beneath my feet as I breathe
Chlorophyll-tinted water and billions of tiny friends
Evaporate in the sun as I take my next step
Breathe in, smoked out
Another stumbling step brings me home
Crashing on the wooden support beams
Covered by what can only barely be called a cushion by now
Ash in, cough out
Broke my stride fumbling in the dark
Taking a swig that's more foam than beer
Spitting out the grit between my teeth
Death in, death out
All alone once again out here
Another year around the sun passes by
As I await first light again
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sparkling sunlight filters through
the willow tree’s slender branches,
speckling the water’s surface~
a montage of green coins.
Koi swim gracefully just below the surface,
choreographed by gentle noontime breezes~
their forms seem like an artist’s colorful brushstrokes,
orange bleeding into white,
black dissolving into gold.
A koi near the surface,
its gills flaring slow,
mouth open in a silent O
as if it’s savoring the sky.
The water remembers every movement,
every turn, every glide, every moment
leaving a lasting trace~
yet gives nothing back
but the quiet hum of holding.
Above, a dragonfly lights,
its wings thinner than regret,
casting no shadow,
only the briefest interruption of light.
And for a moment,
the pond is not just water,
not just fish,
but the world’s slow exhale~
something between prayer
and perfectly still hunger.
You may read the accompanying memoir vignette here at Poetry Soup:
poetrysoup.com/short_stories/magic_at_the_koi_pond_13577
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Steam curls from my chipped blue mug~
routine tastes like sleep.
You hum off-key, toast burns black.
This is how love stays alive.
Eyes engaged her essence, freed ebullience;
The shelled release evokes observers' mien,
Altered beliefs reverberate cadence:
Poised effects externals, trade tales between.
Exemplified unveiled ether's ventures,
Exchanged entreat emergence, tweaked, performed;
Sweet ripened seed, exposes her dentures,
Appeared edgy yet sleepy decorum.
Perplexed, envisioned perspectives best bent,
Derived encased enterprise defined yield;
Enters the challenged endeavors event,
Coffee express delivery, appeal.
Excused episode, Excedrin tablets
Were real sleepers, next time, chocolates.
let heart’s intent simmer awhile
gentled in effulgence of love
magnetised in cauldron of bliss
that when thus readied for action
soul senses Divine Mother’s kiss
Waiting To Exhale
I... Can't... Breathe...
Not Physically...
But Emotionally & Spiritually...
Because I can't live, realistically,
Without looking lurkers,
Lurking, nitpically?
I've BEEN Waiting To Exhale,
As life tries to choke me out..
As silly tricks...
Try to smoke me out...
As year after year,
my candles try to
BLOW ME OUT!
And, I've BEEN waiting to exhale,
but someone always thinks...
their breath is
more important than mine...
That my time
has less priority than their time...
So I can continue
Waiting To Exhale...
So that they might do it now...
So that they can again make the vow...
That If I Don't Mind...
I Can Breathe Later....
If for now, I'll just continue
Waiting To Exhale.
Redeeming Solace
Isn’t Pleasure
We're Left
To Suffer Alone.
-Gray Squirrel
07-23-2025
Although demons of darkness have been slain,
since we tread softly with a mindful eye
and no longer think about loss or gain,
perhaps it’s too late since we will soon die.
Is it regret or remorse we emote,
as we ponder upon life lived thus far,
where throb of love our unconscious heart smote
and thus from God’s light, we drifted afar?
Be this as it may, we have now transformed,
having imbibed within, bliss magnetism
and with bastions of fear, lust and rage stormed,
divine light bursts forth from mind-body prism.
All we do now is share words of wisdom,
on how all souls may enter God’s kingdom.
~ When wind changes - slanderous tongues - never truthful confession ~
At times we’re forced to grin and bare it,
but then again if the shoe fits, wear it—Quote by poet
Inhalation/Exhalation
Breathe in, arms above my head, a salutation to the sun
breathe out, and Namaste` and blessings to everyone
Kalidasa’s prayer, “Please subdue the anguish of your soul,
nobody is destined to only happiness or to pain,
the wheel of life takes one up and down in turn”
Why then do I still feel like screaming into the void?
It’s always something else which has me annoyed
Coaxing adherents into haters then blithely cleansing one’s hands,
so lost loyal allies fall prey to their shepherds demands
My evil muse is not amused
Inhalation of certain scents fills me with inspiration
Fresh brew urges me to write something worth being read
But I sigh at a blank page. Good intentions filled my head
"Inhale for inspiration ~ Exhale to prevent stagnation"
Maybe that would help me absorb fragrant wafts I sniff
instead of finding some repugnant. That's a big "What if"
I want to write a decent rhyming Sonnet in what seems
to be one single, solitary breath...
one that flows like smooth currents in streams
without one damned damn created by me
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