this savage wisdom somehow soothes

362

reality

[aka

confusion
disconnection
resentment
frustration
cowardice
grief]

isn’t optional

reality

[aka

clarity
intimacy
gladness
ease
courage
joy]

isn’t optional

if I scream for a break from this full-on life
with all its dualistic extremes
I’ve gone and forgotten
again

 that reality isn’t optional

and how extraordinary to find that this
savage wisdom somehow soothes
and silences, softly,
sweetly,
the voice of she-who-screams

 ~

the turning

336

I saw the tide turn

saw, at that miraculous moment of turning
a kind of confusion,
currents eddying this way and that,
wetness caught in chaos

then, the inexorable pull
of the deep’s great breath
took hold and without further murmur
a rush of indigo satin streamed to the sea

and the watercolor portrayal
of a heart’s return
to its source and sustenance
was not lost on me

~

luxuriously abiding as what-is

119

this morning the warming winter world is whitewashed with mist
the earth is now cool – for the tropics – but the lengthening day-span,
always sun-drenched,
is heating up the atmosphere –
when warm meets cool, the mix brings mist

likewise; when the cool crisp intellect meets the warm embracing intuition of the heart
a fog of confusion is inevitable

luxuriously abiding as what-is
this naked clear knowingness knows no such confusion

~