Category: moving toward what moves me

carry flowers, not suffering

carry flowers, not suffering

be happy in this space    
be free    
listen    
feel your breath    
remember    
fly from branch to branch    
tree to tree    
fly high, fly free    
and sing    

be open in this space    
be Love    
listen    
feel your heartbeat    
remember who you are    

and don’t be a hypocrite   

no is a complete sentence.    
so is yes!    

make each yes you give    
be true with your whole heart    
and rest in that knowing    

be strong in this space    
be courage    
rise    
feel your feet on the ground    
remember who you are here to be    
take a step and walk    
from question to question    
person to person    
walk tall, walk free    
and sing    

you are not alone    
look up and see    
the many walking with you    
ancestors, guides, compañeras    
past, present, and future    

you are not alone    
you are one of many    
co-creating a world where many worlds fit    
come dance, come sing    
and remember who we are here to be

 

~San Cristóbal de las Casas, Chiapas, Mexico — March 2019

 

“Un mundo donde quepan muchos mundos (A world where many worlds fit)” ~EZLN, Oventik, Chiapas, Mexico, Feb 2019

ofrecido en solidaridad con los esfuerzos necesarios y de gran alcance del EZLN (Ejército Zapatista de Liberación Nacional), los miembros de Caracol Oventik, todos las compas caminando conmigo —  y Maestra L, con mucho amor y gratitud por compartir tu sabidurías del corazón con E y conmigo  

offered in solidarity with the necessary and far-reaching efforts of the EZLN (Zapatista Army of National Liberation), the members of Caracol Oventik, all the compas walking with me — and Maestra L, with much love and gratitude for sharing your heart wisdoms with E and me


If you are moved to share this poem, feel free to do so by sharing a link to this page. In the words of Aurora Levins Morales, “Poetry is labor. Please respect it.” Thanks, loves.

what provokes me?

what provokes me?

patterns of peace and war    
hands that give life and take it    
unheard laments and voices silenced    
lost songs and acts of violence    

provoke me    

heartache that never seems to end    
empty promises and broken trust    
profound loneliness as my companion    
crowded trains brimming with unkindness    

provoke me    

and telling my untold stories   
seeing the path before me    
knowing peace is in every step   
in every smile, every hug, and every tear we share.    

i exist because we exist,
without you, without us,
without our bad jokes and secret handshakes
there would be no you, no me

let’s celebrate our gifts and heal
ourselves and our communities

let’s share and follow the deepest longings in our hearts
(someone once told me You put them there to guide us)

let’s reclaim and restore our humanity, our human beauty
so all beings may be happy and free

~Oakland, June 2018, summer solstice

Shared on this day with much love for my dear RG


If you are moved to share this poem, feel free to do so by sharing a link to this page. In the words of Aurora Levins Morales, “Poetry is labor. Please respect it.” Thanks, loves.

joy in the struggle

joy in the struggle

my heart is not my own.    
our hearts are not our own.    
they are here to witness.    

because the pain of the struggle is less    
than the pain of the harm.    

because i’m more scared of not taking    
each next step than I am of taking them.    

because i know i can do it.    

because others will walk with me
and help me be in my heart,
my heart which is not my own.

to tell the truth, my tears, too,
cannot be only my own.
there are too many of them.
cry with me, my friends.
i’ve wept too much for our pain for the world,

and when i laugh, i know that too is
not my own, alone.

so laugh with me, friends!
there’s plenty of joy in the struggle
to go around.

~San Francisco, November 2018

dedicated to the memory of Berta Cáceres, and all those who have given their lives to fight for Pachamama and Indigenous Peoples, everywhere. may such deaths be no more.


If you are moved to share this poem, feel free to do so by sharing a link to this page. In the words of Aurora Levins Morales, “Poetry is labor. Please respect it.” Thanks, loves.

homeward bound

homeward bound

what joy! what joy it is    
to emerge from the mist    
intact and integrated    
the shattered parts of me    
made whole, only to re-shatter, and be remade whole    
again, and again, and again, and again…    

my mind probes my heart    
and is satisfied    
i see my heart is not my own    
it is here to witness    
to help me learn who I am    
and what it is I am here to say and to be    
we must never give up    
never stop being in our hearts    
our hearts, which are not our own    
we are here to love radically, ceaselessly, fearlessly,    
tenderly, even when we break    

what joy! what joy it is
to reach back, far back and remember
the miracle of all the mistakes bringing me
tumbling into this space
rise with me
take my hand
take my hand and be free
take my hand and be the beings that we see
every palm holds and heals every hurt
wherever there’s a pair of us Fools
it’s all right there, moment to moment,
movement to movement

what joy! what joy it is
to step back into the mist
and know i will lose myself again
we will lose ourselves again
and dance in the dark, to bring on the light…

~Oakland, December 2018

dedicated to my fellow Faithful Fools, beloved CIIS co-hearts, and all those who are foolish enough to seek a revolution of the heart, personally and collectively, locally and globally.

with glowing gratitude for my dear RHR and SK, and the insight that “our hearts are not our own. they are here to witness.”


If you are moved to share this poem, feel free to do so by sharing a link to this page. In the words of Aurora Levins Morales, “Poetry is labor. Please respect it.” Thanks, loves.

She. Difficult. Small.

She. Difficult. Small.

she had been aiming for greatness    
for the biggest impossible things    
she often achieved disappointment    

she is unearthing and tracing the roots    
of each wound, unwinding through time and space   
tree and river, mountain and highland   

she sees the whole and    
she sees nothing at all    
nothing beyond suffering    

nothing, that is, until she spies    
the smallest tracks across the sands    
or between two souls awakening    

the smallest tracks and anonymous acts    
revealed in the right kind of light    
and no other    

too bright or too dark    
she is blind    

but with the light of a small candle    
she can take a small step    
she can stop, and take a breath    

things are difficult, and she knows it    
she stops, looks around, and sees    
she already has what she needs    

where is she headed?    
even she does not know, only that she is    
most certainly in motion    

walking and asking    
praying    
being    
She Is _________   

~San Francisco, January 2019


If you are moved to share this poem, feel free to do so by sharing a link to this page. In the words of Aurora Levins Morales, “Poetry is labor. Please respect it.” Thanks, loves.

hate has no home here

hate has no home here

Friends, welcome to this humble and heart-centered weaving of word, sound, and vision. Tune in for poetry, visual art, songs of healing, lyrical prose, and more — creative expressions of the beauty and struggles of our world, witnessed and held within the dazzling fullness of existence.    

Visit the About page to learn what moves me, and the Contact page to connect with me. The Portfolio page features a small sampling of recent works. You can subscribe to this blog via the sidebar. Posts and pages may include links like the one below, to share with you some of the works of others which inspire me to act with humility, courage, and solidarity.

Remember Beloveds, another world is possible. In the beautiful struggle for justice and healing, you are all a part of it. We are all a part of it.

Peace, and blessings…