Forgiveness

rose-3142529_960_720

 

consciously choosing
altered action
in the face of
expanded information
about how the Universe works
how the rose grows
how we are loved

p

Eternity

photo-1512081059196-40ba85e2b026

a poem by Anya Light

 

I remember the body-less time.

The time before arms and legs.

It was a time before wonder—

because everything was wonder.

Everything was peace.

p
p
I remember the body-less time.

Carved into bone,

this memory.

Any end of the cosmos was mine

in a wink or a blink.

…Maybe this

at least partially explains

my sorrow

at needing a car

or filling a wallet with dollars

p

The Moment of Surrender

baby-1151351_960_720

 

I am the quiet

 

the end of your quiet day

 

I am the noisy

 

the end of your noisy day

 

I am the noisy

I am the quiet

 

The end of your day

 

 

p

I Am

animal-1867225_960_720

 

I am the robin

the vulture

 

I am

princess

pirate

rebel and square

 

I am never

always loved

 

yin and yang

bad and better

 

castle of forgetting

and valley of forever

 

I am

dream in the streaming clouds

 

and

sparrow in the grass

 

 

I am, I am, I am

 

 

p

Amma

 

Mata_Amritanandamayi

In morning

She rises

To the sound of water

 

In evening

Her repose

Is the clear light of day

 

(and

always always

the innumerable Hum:

of

I AM

flooding her brain)

 

 

One morning, though,

there will be no rising…

One morning, though,

No clear light of day.

 

One morning

One morning

Her children will instantly (somehow) know:

Ah, she has dropped the body.

Ah, the butterfly soul!

 

 

Oh dear sweet mother,

how long are your days with us?

Oh dear sweet Amma,

how long can your hands hold?

Sunshine Is on the Inside

inside!

When the sky is gray,
look inside.

When clouds cover the land,
Look inside.

No matter whether raindrops fall
or blizzards large and small—
Look inside.

There, there is where
you will find the sunshine.

Sunshine is on the inside.

Language

red-wing-blackbirds-flock-in-flight-agelaius-phoeniceus

 

I think of our house.
The one that was ours.
Nipples, thighs,
and never a storm.

A house encircled by palm.
Flocks of orange-winged
blackbirds,
each morning,
speaking our name.

XOXO
XOXO

The Wheel

pier-407252_960_720

 

1.
Time is a wheel
and we are on it.

We are on it.
2.
2.
Please note
the delicacy of this motion.

For it is not with a gusting
thrusting weight,
nor with a bustling, hustling fervor
no.
Rather:
quietly,
unassumingly,
it enters.
No announcement.
No word.

3.
3.
It is the pure spin of a blue jay’s wing,
weightless,
midair,
contemplating nothing.

It is a bird, frozen in time,
yet soaring forward
as we all tend to do.

As we all tend to do.

The Path

sunrise-1634734_960_720

My heart is the sunrise—
always ready,
always warm.

My palms are the sunset—
in prayer,
to close and bless the day.

Who could have guessed such joy?
Such bliss?

To inhabit a body.

To wake up from a dream.

SaveSave

Peace

bread-1081841_960_720

Peace
in a cup of tea.
Peace
in a plate of olives.

Practice words
or silence.

Either way,
to melt,
to melt,
can be yours…the unblinking reality
of ecstasy at dawn.

Loves, let’s herald the morning;

let’s bow with a mouthful of bread.