She says, “Do you see this?” “Look closely. Can you see it? No, closer.” He steps to the edge.   She pushes him over. He falls into her heart. It is endless.   There is no shoreline any longer. She surrounds him.   Is this nibbana? She says, “Stay present and fall further”.   He…

I spoke to the old lady again. She told me, “don’t be sorry, be lost in your longing”. Sweat streams clear clays in ways only the hardest workers can muster, and water never felt as good as bathing in that cool brook by the old mill, with the reed covered ponds and a palette of…

I long to hold her and never let go. I have never touched her. She won’t let me see her face. I don’t mind. I listen to her voice in the darkness, a single small candle they share breathes in the same air and dances across the wax in its wonder. She speaks a language infused…

I didn’t know her then. I still seek to know her now, my sweet wife, almond eyes and river silt skin, with its soft solar surface. Our confluence is sacred. Our confluence is secret. These two underground rivers running through old clays, that when dug deeply across and within, may seem dissimilar, in that they…

I watch her from the shadows while she nods off to sleep, not knowing how such a thing is possible from such distant divide. She has forgotten herself and all the promises she’d once made. She is fading into darkness even now and no one will remember her but me. Her words hold no weight,…

The females in our line are fragile. One strong storm and they go all shattered glass. But, oh, you should see how they smash. It is a wonderous sight. I have witnessed it many times, from the edge of this claybed, all midnight black and waterlogged smoke screens.   Copyright © All Rights Reserved

I still love you like a small child.  Hold my sweet chubby hand and you may remember before all is lost.  Do not leave me alone at the end of all things.  Go deeper.  Find the light.  Share it with others while there is still time. Tears swim across my almond leaf eyes. I sit…

He kept going, wandering over vast and expansive places most would choose to not go, had they a choice. He had no choice. He had to get to her, and she was many babies away. Information must be exchanged with others along the way, like some ancient Parsi royal mail system across the wilds of desolate…

Your ancestors are mine and they sing soft syllabatics just under the surface.  I put my ear to my wrist, the damaged left one from when my broken brain blew the nerve endings out with a staggered shout. I listen to them there. I don’t understand that language. It seems gibberish to me and has…

Okay, one more cup and then i stumble home, alone.   I thought i’d shamed myself, I tasted tears. I was embarassed. I wanted to run away,   but I heard, read. I read.   My head spins sometimes. I feel calmer now. Tears are a blessing. To be deprived is devastation.   I didn’t…