and spoke to a leaf:
‘what’s your name? ‘
the leaf paused for a moment,
and spoke,
‘you can call me child of the limb,
or child of the tree,
or child of the earth,
or child of the sun and rain…
or you can just call me, Bob!
what’s your name? ‘
i thought for a moment,
and smiled:
‘you can just call me…
…..leaf! ‘
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a poet, at best,
between the small childinside each of us,and the Mother’s breast!the simple strikingof the common match,that lights the fire,the broom that sweeps,yet has no name or need…the words of the prayerwe pray with every breath!
the door of death,
the face of godshaves in your mirror.the fire of understandinglit by the match,held in the handat the end of your arm!eternity but totaland conscious awareness,finding the universein each petal of the rose.the leaf just buddedwill turn and fall,to lose itself in sleep,and become leaf again!
sometimes love…
has to stand up,when no one’s got your back.has to speak out,when no one wants to hear…has to be human,when they want something else.has to ball the fists,and then open the hand….has to cry, has to give,when it seems like no one cares.has to try and fail,then try again….has to put faceson God’s dreams!
America…
in your streets broken,cluttered with the bodiesof the jobless, homeless…the hungry faces of your childrenstruck dumb by your apathetic hand….do you hear? do you see?do you feel? ….whose graves will you markwith your oil tinged pride?whose god will you worship now?and who will be left to carrythe heavy mark of your sins?America….the fallen!
the act of opening,like a rosebud,like a mother,opening the door…like a childopening a present,like a womanopening to a man….opening…all the hidden chambers,every door to everysecret kingdom of the soul…..opening the box that holdsyour secret thoughts, desires….opening…the door of the cage,letting the winged breath fly….opening….your heart to itself,and to all hearts beating….opening….the vault of conceptions,the entrance…
there comes a time…
when the carpenter lays down the hammer,when the lover walks out the door.when the child turns awayfrom childish things.when the mother steps back,and opens the door.when the old man stomps outthe fire with his boots.when the sky falls,and the earth rises.when the poor just will nottake it any more.when the sacred revealsitself in a back…