Fireflies — a meditation

Take these poems
and throw them
out of your window
if you wish.
Sprinkle them
in your garden,
or toss them
into the wind
if you wish,
there’s more of them.

You see, words float
in the air around you
like fireflies
and all I have to do
is sit still in your presence
until a few of them gather
in my open palms.

That’s how I catch the poetry
and give it back to you.
Take what pleases you
and throw the rest away
As far as I know
you are infinite.

Voice — a meditation

I learned
my name
on the first day
of creation,
before it all,
when every corner
of the universe
was quiet,
and the first
blades of grass
lifted their heads
from the soil
in whispered prayer
to the young sun.

From that holy silence
you emerged,
stood at the edge
of the cliff
and sang softly,
your voice meandered
over the calm
waters of the ocean
and found my ears.

I woke up
knowing that you
were calling me home,
and that your voice
was my name.

Ocean dress — a meditation

don’t tremble
here she comes
walking up to us
pulling the ocean
behind her
across the sand
like a giant
bluegreen quilt

her hair like ink
on the breeze

it’s no time
to hide

find my lips

she’s looking at us

Caveman — a meditation

at first we searched
for caves
to hide
from nature’s
creatures and her temper

we played outside
in the daytime
and when the sun
turned its back on us
we hid inside
by the fire
to dream

we dreamed of walls
and woke up one morning
knowing that we
could make caves
whenever we want
instead of relying
on the sympathy of mountains
or the kindness of forests

the walls
were meant to swaddle us
so we can sleep
through nature’s unknown
and dream new things

but as our walls
grew bigger
we got arrogant
and one day
instead of building walls
around ourselves
we started building walls
around nature too

the cave grew bigger
and nature smaller

then this big cave
with everyone in it
became too loud
we could no longer sleep
so we built more walls

this time
around each other

we made smaller caves
one person long
one person wide
and we hung photos
of ourselves
on the walls
in case someone visits
but no one visits

now we lie awake
at night
in our cave for one
nothing more
than cavemen
whose only fire
is our yearning
to sleep

Rhyme — a meditation

I got up at dawn
and rescued
the last star
from the fading night

from the delicate dandelions
I plucked a drop of dew
before it disappeared
into the sun

in my palms
I sifted the aroma
of fresh croissants and bread
from the smell of morning soil

and when the breeze arrived
I caught the birdsong
and prayers
and good mornings
exchanged between children

I got up at dawn
to collect these letters
And then wrote your name
on the morning sky

Now your name rhymes
with everything

Confetti — a meditation

I know a place,
a quiet little corner
where people go
to hold hands
and whisper.
It’s quiet
because they whisper
the words of poets,
or famous lines
from films and songs
(they whisper them
out of courtesy
in case the others
are using the same lines).
But if you come with me
I will take you there
and tell you
every funny tale
I know
until your laughter
fills the air
like confetti.
Love isn’t all
whispering you know!