take notice please,
the Sun has no fear of embrace
read footnotes about this poem
you are but a whisper on the lips of God.
as a whisper, you pass on ever so soon,
like a line of poetry written on the waters of creation.
yet the greatness of a whisper is that it is passed on…
Charles P. Thorp.
wind breathes the whole world to your face
all of it, all
imagine, imagine how that is
because, because it is real, it is
all that is, a catspaw whisper on your ears
it is touching the skin of your face
it is tasting your mouth, the inside of you
it is breathing, you
Sahara blazing into space. that forest sea-breeze cove that
no one yet has found. that park down two blocks when you were
only this much tall. a field of unbound wheat visible after climbing
the low hills crest. the place where you first felt yourself alone.
stone and salt and gulls inside the wind.
your lovers kiss between the sheets. your lover twenty years ago.
that baby you touched inside its damp eager grasp.
your mothers breath
revised 2019.10.13 (inc. the former title, breathing)
being a twelve part study on the propagation
of waves in near vacuum realities, or
why is willingness important to rain.
touch. real thirst.
resist. learning loud.
open mouth. drink.
I am my own gravity.
night Moon is my kin.
stars nest in my palms. I know each by name.
same as water does.
morning Sun sees summer when it finds my face.
rivers tell me all they hear.
I drink their listening. following.
birds call out my real name.
wind carries breath farther than my arms.
you breathe me, even if you don’t know.
I breathe your sky across far broad seas.
trees, they don’t change my path.
rivers, I can wade them all.
landscape measures itself by my strides.
I lean into blue sky, trusting as you would
trust rivers to seek their grace in stone.
trails in wilderness follow my feet.
birds sing to me how they die. I carry
these hymns home to their nest.
here, boats sewn to the shore by threads.
I make waves that bring them fish.
of this realm what doing is most dear to me?
I’ll follow you.
follow till you see I am loving you.
no one is following.
where there’s no echo there’s no shoe.
footprints act circular as viewed from below.
here the bowl. here a spoon.
since when mother was the shadow of falling leaves.
I am that river too, inside myself.
empty never is. six walls, you see?
brush in hand. paint to begin.
the answer to joy is life
the answer to sadness is being
the answer to promise is spirit
the answer to pain is love
for Sadie, 2016 november
a Found poem, for his Holiness the fourteenth Dalai Lama
the same crow in the morning awakens us.
the same bowl of rice. tell me a story.
you never cried.
on the roof a pair of crows nested when
you were born. like before.
a door speaks before it opens. listening.
he says he wants to go where heaven begins.
you are here to love all living things.
mother mother why do you leave me here?
these shoes are mine. too big, but mine.
to look is to have confidence in one’s
own ability to end suffering. all beings
separation has an abundant face.
I don’t want you to go.
what can I do? I am only a boy.
I will take those sheep. all of them.
inside my care.
I write without writing. I write words inside thoughts.
I write air. I give my breath to you.
make no barrier where a face is meant to shine.
to l o v e it takes a long time.
how long holiness? I don’t yet know.
all things will become nothing. I will become nothing.
yet here I am, inside you. we say our names, continuous.
the moon is full.
these stones we pile for you, saying where we have been,
saying our way home again. change is this much high.
we give this sand back to you.
this home. these fingertips.
we pour ourselves into the seas.
I am a reflection of the moon on water.
why? to be a good man.
neil reid © 2015 november