His Futile War
He and she
The space between
Push
Pull
Plunder
Pillage
Penetrate–
Her earth
Her womb
Her mystery.
She will not be contained.
She engulfs–
like the ocean
or quicksand.
She envelopes–
like a carpet of sky
or hot lava.
She is
volcanic mystery overflowing.
He tries
to contain the uncontainable.
All of the paradox and contradictions. I always wished I could make pretty things. I wish I was a pretty thing. But what’s true is I am messy and complicated. I make more messes. I make pretty messes. I’ve been doing some inner calibration lately and ran across this journal entry from earlier this year. …
Maybe a Zen teaching story Once upon the time there was an old farmer who had worked his crops for many years. One day his horse ran away. Upon hearing the news, his neighbors came to visit. “Such bad luck,” they said sympathetically. “Maybe,” the farmer replied. The next morning the horse returned, bringing with…
“I believe that national sovereignties will shrink in the face of universal interdependence.” ~Jacques Yves Cousteau One of my friends recently got a flat and posted something on Facebook saying she needed to learn to change a tire. I responded by saying, “I can teach you. It’s easy.” A mutual friend said I needed to…
As a final farewell to each man I have loved and lost–whether by your deceit or mine, your projection or mine, your fears or mine–I offer this poem by Lord Byron. Today, I choose love and truth. Today, I choose joy. WHEN WE TWO PARTED When we two parted In silence and tears, Half broken-hearted…