You and I are only here to burn
away-by every means possible-
the not us, the parts of ourselves
that does not serve evolution’s design.
There is no instruction manual to turn
toward, only this constant falling away
from everything we or others have assumed
is true about us. They do not see the sheer beams
of light coursing through each one of us. I do.
Your light, glimmering, sparkling, brings fresh tears
of revelation. I see humanity’s hope lies in the light
rays you emit. There is no longer any way of hiding
who each of you are. I see you becoming beings
of light, Divine light, shifting Earth’s axis,
setting right everything that has gone awry. So,
when you feel the call to burn, and feel it you must,
just lean in and fan the flames of glory,
as you become the light, oh the magnificent light.
The Great Heads x2, Trey Ratcliff
Like a sprite, nymph or gnome,
perhaps even clanging brass bells-
there is one who jumps into the scene
(to be seen only by those in the moment)
to bespeak the unspoken, to be the very spark
for transformation to enter dancing, wildly.
Best to practice the art of crisp awareness
by all means necessary. Do you know how many
times you can chew one single raisin or the exact
number of steps a tiny spider’s legs climb to return
to her web? No? I do not either. Yet, this has not
stopped my quest to inquire. Be someone who is curious
to know how many moments you can stack on top
of one singular instant. Yes, tingling with this kind
of wonder, you may very well be the one who seizes
the moment to see just when the Time Spirit enters,
if only for a split of a second.
Divide by 25
(And Then Some)
When you can divide your life
into one-fourth century segments,
years collide by twenty-five and even
now as the indignity of nearing another
two-thirds of twenty-five brushes up
against your back, you begin to peek
into the pages of your past. The temptation
is not as much the desire to skip ahead-
liking happy endings as we humans do-
rather to recalibrate judgment’s scale to measure
true. The trick, I am just relearning
is to keep my finger off the counterpoint
labeled regret in order to let mistakes
rise higher, to balance out the equation of my life.
There is power in dividing by twenty-five,
and then some.
Do You Love Me?
Unlike the Greenland shark,
you and I only have lifespans
of eighty, ninety or maybe
even like my great-aunt-
be lucky enough to live
beyond her years, to the age
of one-hundred and five.
Still, here is the rough edge
that rubs against our entire life:
‘do you love me? do you really
love me?’ Yet these frigid
water sharks go on and on living
into multiple centuries, possibly
over four to five-hundred years.
And likely not one moment during
those lengthy lives is spent in a quest
for love. Perhaps this is the most
egregious part of our humanity-
not just accepting ourselves upon
our own merits, like the Greenland
shark surely does. I mean if you are
going to live all those years, who
has time for such petty refrains:
‘do you love me? do you really love me?’
Lush Green, Waiting
I am lush green river bottom land,
waiting for the muddy river to wash
up and over my rushes. Quench me
until the quenching itself is done.
Flood me over and over, until
all I am, is grace.
You have to know that I am
lush green, waiting only for You.
As an Ecstatic Poet, my aim is to awaken in you, the part of you that knows the truth of your being, the beauty of your soul.