Category: poetry

As Only He Can Do (this piece is about a wonderful friend I had who passed away)

On By MiCoIn Buddhism Meditation space, faith, god, hope, light, love, love poetry, poetry1 Comment

 ((“That which is to be taken away

First must be given”  Tau Te Ching

Lau Tzu

 

 

I suppose that means I can’t lose what I never had.

But didn’t I?

 

The loss of nothing would be painless,

Not filled with missing and sorrow for what could have been.

 

Doesn’t the very missing and feeling of loss prove that I did have it?

If he didn’t give it, how could I have had it? 

 

But I did because it was given in soft subtle ways,

In after thoughts of kindness, in tender touches and looks.

 

In words only half spoken but completely felt.

I am not a fool, I didn’t imagine him, he was real as were his feelings for me and mine for him.

 

He said he felt the love in my touch, I could feel it in his too.

Such a strong connecting could not be denied, made up, faked.

 

Only words can be misunderstood as they are always left to interpretation by the receiver which interpretation is not always what the speaker intended.

 

Did I misunderstand?  Did I not get the correct message?

I don’t know, and now it is too late.

 

I am confused by the words vs. the feelings.

The meaning behind each is complicated,

 

Sometimes stark and cutting to the bone,

But in other ways and days softer and ambivalent.

 

Maybe I saw too much, maybe I viewed only what I wanted to see,

Accepted only how I wanted it to be.

 

But he was right, it was complicated, too many others involved, too many decisions to make and then, as if to save him from the hard choices,

 

He was gone, never to be here again, too late to ask, too late to know.

Death became a saving grace, a way out, a reprieve, a new beginning.

 

His last words to me, “you and I are all there really is” will always haunt me,

What did he mean?

 

Maybe when I lift the veil and step to the other side,  I will see his warm loving smile and feel his gentle hands on my face and he will take me in his arms once again and explain it all as before,

 

As only he can do.

Always Alone

On By MiCoIn changes, darkness, dreams, earth, fear, god, hope, nature, pain, poetry, sadness4 Comments

 

I’m lying in a hammock,

Sideways,

Staring at the canopy of trees above my head.

Their branches interlaced like the fingers of lovers in an act of passion.

They sway with the gentle breeze,

Each variety with its distinct leaf waiving and dancing to its own tune.

Above and beyond the boughs lies a deep blue sky, dotted with plumes of soft whiteness

Each drifting and changing with every second, never the same from moment to moment.

I watch this scene as the sunlight slowly turns to dusk.

The sun-powered breezes fade and the forest yawns and folds in on itself and sleeps.

I should do the same

But the magic of the transformation of day into night fixes me to this spot.

All form is erased, sky and forest become one, stars twinkle above and fireflies twinkle below as reflections of one another like sky in water.

Buzzing insects sounds are silenced and

A different cast of characters takes over the night shift.

An owl awakens and his hooting echoes between the sleeping trees,

Others answer in kind.

I hear the fox’s footsteps through the dry leaves and

Goosebumps cover my neck at the sound of his bark.

Less vocal creatures slink and stalk through the forest night

Taking their turn at life.

And me, I don’t fit into either cast,

I exist equally in both worlds but am not a participant in either and

Therein lays my sorrow.

I am only a watcher and always alone.

 

Sunday Evening Sorrow

On By MiCoIn candles, changes, darkness, dreams, heartbreak, love, love lost, love poetry, pain, poetry, sadness1 Comment

Sunday evening sorrow

A lonely time, a time in between.

 

The old week has ended,

The new not yet begun.

 

Another ending, freshly felt and remembered in sadness,

Will not end as easily as last week, it continues to linger and hurt, refusing to let go.

 

I am left behind,

Alone with this Sunday evening truth.

 

There is no space

No thought, no warmth.

 

Need is strong but left unattended, neglected,

And words that linger are incomplete.

 

Conversations left unfinished,

With thoughts not expressed or maybe expressed but not received or wanted.

 

It starts and stops,

Comes and goes but comes back only to stop again.

 

How can the coming stop,

But the stopping go on and on and on?

 

I thought there was no separation,

But now I accept that there is nothing to be separate from.

 

The empty space is all that remains within me,

The void was never filled, the dream never realized.

 

One thought had weight and ruled the results,

But mine did not.

 

But isn’t there really only one thought, one truth

One meaning?

 

I just don’t know anymore, I used to think I did, used to feel it in all there was

But now, it is gone and all that is left is the doubt.

 

I want to fight back, regain what I had, what I love

But I can’t. And even if I could, it would be futile; there is no longer another side.

 

What I thought was one is now two.

There is no energy, no anger, only the wanting and needing.

 

And so I sit, just sit on my cushions

In this Sunday evening loneliness

 

And watch the candles burn away the time

And hurt of love left behind.

 

 

 

The City Sleeps

On By MiCoIn darkness, dreams, fear, poetry, Uncategorized2 Comments

Its passageway’s are dark and deep

The city sleeps.

 

Traffic stops in the late night hours

Leaving the tunnels and passageways empty and echoing.

 

The statues that adorn the bridges and street corners stand in silence,

Their presence as forgotten as the craftsman who carved them.

 

Does anyone ever see them?

Does anyone ever care?

 

Buildings sit inches away from each other,

Built to use every bit of space,

 

None is wasted

None is.

 

They build closer and closer

Taller and taller until the sky is blocked out leaving no reminders of what is real.

 

The bus I ride from the airport to South Station navigates the empty streets, turning and sliding past the emotionless statues, the empty tunnels,

 

Past the tunnel doors that lead to nowhere and follows the

Streets and turns made just wide enough to fit through, does someone actually plan these places?

 

Or do they grow by themselves, out of each other

In layers and layers of cement and iron bars.

 

I feel the need to be silent in the dark empty city night.

The bus interior is dark except for my reading light

 

A tiny light illuminating

Just what is below it – me and my pen and paper.

 

Am I the only one who is really here

The only on paying attention …

 

All else fades to darkness in the back of the bus

The end of the tunnel, the dark and abandoned South Station.

 

It is an odd sensation thinking of the millions who lay sleeping all around me. As wildlife sleep at night, hidden out of sight in the forest.

 

The city draws the millions to it, holds them here, caught in the rush and sorrow of a life of illusion, but too busy to notice.

 

It is only in the dark of early morning that

The beauty and truth of this place is revealed.

 

Minus the noise, crowds, exhaust fumes and indifference,

The city glows with a knowing internal presence.

 

I feel its sadness like the bridge and

Street corner statues feel it.

 

They and I recognize each other as the neglected and forgotten ones.

Only alive when noticed but only noticed by each other

 

And only when the city sleeps.

 

MC 5-20-16

 

“I’ve seen your flag on the marble arch

Love is not a victory march

It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah”

Leonard Cohen

Rain

On By MiCoIn changes, courage, darkness, earth, faith, fear, god, heartbreak, hope, light, love, love poetry, nature, pain, peace, poetry, sadness, spirit, suffereing, sweetness, Uncategorized, Writing, Zen1 Comment

 

The sound of rain takes me to a place of inner peace as the

Rain falls in sheets and slides down the roof over its edge in a curtain of water.

Tree leaves dance with the weight of the rain and

Flowers wash their faces in its freshness.

The sky is lower on rainy days and

Holds us close and grounded.

Sounds are muted and muffled and

Light is  defused in grayness.

But it is not a sad and depressing grayness,

But a soothing and peaceful shade

Full of the necessity of sorrow.

A rainy day is soft and dark.  It begs us to stop, rest and be mindful of our surrounds and loves.

It reminds us to take the time to be lulled by the patter of rain on the windows

Into a place of inner stillness,

And there remain, content to just be and accept what is.

I Must Wait

On By MiCoIn Buddhism Meditation space, changes, courage, darkness, earth, faith, fear, god, hope, light, love, love poetry, pain, past times, peace, poetry, poetry changes, sadness, sweetness, thanks, Uncategorized, Writing, ZenLeave a comment

I have to wait, just wait,

There is nothing left to do.

Tonight is cold and dark,

I must wait for the sun.

My love is intense and passionate,

I must wait for its object.

My mind is confused and alone,

I must wait for a friend.

My heart aches and pines,

I must wait for a song.

My life is a series of waits,

But my soul is tired of waiting.

Time must slow down,

So I can catch up.

And when I do, all of the waiting will have been for nothing,

Because I will find that it  is all already here.

Freedom?

On By MiCoIn courage, dreams, faith, god, poetry4 Comments

In 4.5 months I will retire, it is a time to keep and mark.

The days numbered waiting for freedom but really, will it be such a change?

Now has its own freedom and always has and

I have the freedom to be here now.

The now holds nothing but is everything.

This space, this elegant space is here with me now. Always is and always has been.

But in 4.5 months I will breathe a sigh of relief anyway as my perceived waiting for time will have ended and time will fill my time and I its.

It is telling me to put away the other stuff and come and be part of it with my whole self.  It is not something I will do for the I of the surface but for the I of my true being.

I need to be able to participate fully in the now, in the glory of being, with all of my being.

Will it be easier in 4.5 months? I don’t know.

Probably not, unless I chose it to be.  Waiting for things never makes them so.

For everything happens in the now, there is no past to look back on, no future to look ahead to

It is always only now… So I guess I should stop waiting for the time to pass, it doesn’t,

There is but One moment fading into now, into now, into now…

After The Rain

On By MiCoIn changes, dreams, earth, faith, garden, god, growing, hope, light, love, love poetry, nature, peace, poetry, seasons, Uncategorized2 Comments

The joy of a muddy puddle after a rain and

Spider webs stretched out on the grass waiting to dry.

 

Rain makes tree trunks darker on west facing sides with

Moss growing toward the north.

 

Forest fallen leaves flattened by winter’s snows awaken after the spring rain and

Crisp morning air envelopes the crystal blue sky of a new cloudless day.

 

Dawn brings a new world each and every morning, while

Night’s darkness hides the transformation from yesterday to today.

 

The world of this moment is a different world from yesterday’s,

From an hour ago, from a moment ago.

 

It all is in flux, all impermanent but dependable in its trustworthy impermanence and

Therein lays the joy of a muddy puddle after the rain.