sailing circles

leaf spattered raft

bobs on neon green mud water

a pink plastic halo

to sail in slow motion

over the murky unknown

to circle over the fearful dark

like the lightest

seashell hued bubbles

that might carry a good witch.

canoe conversations tingle along

cool water over wrists and ankles

'it's deep and good here'

and it finally feels like home,

the ancient water smell is in my bones,

and I fall asleep,

eyes heavy as moons.

two weddings

Learn to love

those white silk shackles

which lash your legs

to the floor.

Then the floor

slides out from under you.

Now you dangle

where nothing is certain

and certainly not guaranteed.

He knows

that half a smile

can't get him as far

as it used to do

or used to did.

Now the dogs are yelping,

your stomach's swimming,

the only food in the house

a solitary chicken nugget.

Suitcases are scattered,

packed, unpacked and repacked again

right there on the Thanksgiving table

right there where you folded his clothes.

So here comes the truth

with its painful shards of light.

Where could you ever find a shield

to ward off this kind of attack?

It stabs into your eyes and hands

and deepest layers.

You take it up

stab yourself with it

over

and over

until your love

has bled out

all around

those shackles soaking

slip out your tired feet

and fall through.

zero circle

"zero circle" by Rumi

Be helpless, dumbfounded,
Unable to say yes or no.
Then a stretcher will come from grace
to gather us up.

We are too dull-eyed to see that beauty.
If we say we can, we’re lying.
If we say No, we don’t see it,
That No will behead us
And shut tight our window onto spirit.

So let us rather not be sure of anything,
Beside ourselves, and only that, so
Miraculous beings come running to help.
Crazed, lying in a zero circle, mute,
We shall be saying finally,
With tremendous eloquence, Lead us.
When we have totally surrendered to that beauty,
We shall be a mighty kindness.

Rumi