Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Second Coming

From the desert
rose the star.
The color of loss.
The three wise men
dreamt of the cross
and opened their eyes
in search of a word
to announce,
they prayed to the Muse.
But she said:
be silent.
What's the use?


We just don't recall.
As if the cord
is torn
between the soul and flesh.
We think we start fresh.
But look
into that porfiry September
when you were a deer
skipping along the rocks
in search of your doe.
Keep running.
Keep opening the door.

Monday, May 18, 2009


I saw as they led
my children away.
To slaughter.
One by one.
I saw the sharp terror
in the eyes of my daughter.
As the master grabbed her
by the scruff of the neck
with a hand -- skillfull and rough.
He severed her head
and laid it out
in the sun.
To dry.
I chewed on the grass.
Didn't avert my eye
from her still-open eyes --
glossy and dead.
I said:
Daughter-sheep, they are people.
They know not what they do.
Their hearts are crowded
and pity doesn't fit.
So, rest in peace, my daughter.
And may you be blessed
while they eat.


For weeks now
the demons roamed
and trampled.
Ravaged me to pieces
and made me their home.
They didn't come uninvited.
I let them in with open arms.
Hoping for revelation
from their ramble.
But revelation comes from hard labor.
From sweat. Blood.
Being still.
Feeling love's chill
through your backbone.
While you are cast alone.
Like an unwanted pebble
or some brown-gray stone
hurled into the open air.
Onto the road
that leads nowhere.

Saturday, May 9, 2009


One asked--
what is love? what is its essence?
The other answer answered:

Saturday, May 2, 2009

Evening Prayer

Warm as the breath of a dog --
the fog
enveloped all thoughts of you.
Left me empty inside.
Light. Light blue.
Outside gray pigeons flew.