that old man

see God!any time you’re facedby anger, by your enemy…see God!any time someone hurts you,and walks away…see God!any time someone humiliates you,doesnt respect you…see God!every time you’re face with turmoil,and turmoil has a face, , ,see God!and maybe, just maybe,when they’re faced with you,they’ll see God!

sheds the skin,comes out of the shell….leaves the firelit cave,for the darkness,and shadows’ whisperamong the trees….takes the kiss of windover the door well latched….jumps from the ledgenever knowing how deepor how cold the water below!walks the forbidden mile,fights the battle already lost,with the conviction of desire….brushes the nipple with fingerspiano key walking…..almost kissing with fingertipswell…

a tumbledown shack,weathered by the years.a cup stained by use.a fire gone to embers,a prayer lost in the din.the sound of the hawk’s wingsin a sky no one can touch.bury it, or not! i dont care!you can burn it on a pyre,or leave it for the wolves.i cannot take it with me,have no use for…

from a faucet…each drop,one lifetime,falling forever slow…then gone!

my grandmother’s kitchen,after working outside all day.rain, just before it falls,a fresh plowed field.my mother’s old Bible,a fireplace too long unused.old nuts, your pillow,the old pine tree that felland lay rotting in the yard.a well oiled glove,the tractor in the barn.your hair, a rose just opened,the box too longin the back of the closet.

either way,going nowhere.girl on his lapnot wearing panties;he thinks he’s god,or at least bulletproof.gonna ship out tomorrow,got ‘hero’ written on his forehead.she’s got ‘gonna crash’ downinside her, written with invisible ink…gonna stand by a hero’s gravestand alone in the pouring rain…gonna stand on a street corner,just feeding them tracks.flag flying at half mast…going nowhere!

standing in line…waiting for a bowl of food,a blanket, a kind word…people…standing in line….credit cards ready,faces twisted with hatred, , , ,which line are you in?

softly knocking on the door….or maybe it’s a train,on some distant track,hurtling somewhere with purpose….or maybe just winter,blowing hard against autumn,wrapping all that has been life…in the silence of the snow….or maybe it’s tomorrow,returning today to yesterday….this moment of living to memory.or maybe it’s just my heart,calling out to my soul….listening for an echo….you return…

by virtue of loss?we can only see sufferingwhen we are suffering?we can only feel compassionwhen we are hurting?we only stand upwhen we’re pushed in a corner?we can only find Godwhen the situation is hopeless?we spend our whole livesbuilding walls that keep usfrom being free!

a hole in the bucket,the branch falls from the tree!the quake and the tremor,harsh wind slaps my face.the fire gone out,the night cold and dark.a bent nail in the bridge,the road that just ends.the door left open,the stranger’s heavy breathing.the touch, the smell,and the taste of want…want carried by love,and love wears your face!

i am nothing,nothing but the breezewalking through the trees.nothing but the caw of the crow,the echo of the mountains’ silence.nothing but the empty bowlheld by the hungry child.nothing but the dark face,the white hands,spoken in different languages.nothing but the blood,of the family killed by the bombs.nothing but the lonely terrorof the suicide just before dawn.nothing…

that carved your voice into the willow,that whispered to stars in your name.i am she whose back twas arched,who brought you from the land unknown.who suckled your hunger and filled you with awe,who held your hand on walks of amazement.and i am the tint and the hue of change,the anvil and the forge….that brought you…