Journaling

who journals

out there..?

we know the priority

each new day

is a gathering of

those wrinkles and sticks

and seeing each whole
relating as they do
now to each other..
and then they reach
to something larger
new until now
unseen
until journaling entry
this moment...

Daybreak

to the light

we are the names..

may we find

awareness today of

 each special name..

inception and art

in higher flow

may we soon 

know here below..

we wait for

morning light

and long to return

without further delay..

this new reality

two in one
one in two

each glorious day....

Shapeshifting

 transformations

sometimes seen as

 magical events..

but let's track

a northward unity

and southward split..
one becomes three
and three one..

constant motion

these sensational trips
pulsations

found in 
the heart of

cosmos and cell...

holding in Tension

So much heartbreak

with strained attention 

outside..

what's out there

strikes cords within..

some cords long ago

entrained

with out there..

perhaps an antidote

when we expect

contradiction out there

humility with half-truths

halves in communion

beauty between..

holding in Tension..

power and joy 

within...

Black and White

it is said
are the measures
gradations of fib..
more white more truth
more black is worse..
with such entangling
where is found
purest lies and truth..?
then further
does truth birth lies
and lies the truth..?

are such words
to each
a mirror...?

light attachment

For our children..

our creations

need an empty space

that they alone might grow..

our light then

must be withdrawn

Yet also remain..

this paradox of light

and of Life...

for Mae

I prefer NOT

My work yesterday

I pursued with fire..

 dead letters burned

letters with news

for countless intended

recipients Unknown..

news shadowed or light

these notifications of

paths NOT taken

met their end by

my flaming torch..

My role as destroyer

carried my reverie

ignited a wish 

a blessing and curse 

to finally know NOT..

My work today
new letters appear..
copying not burning
yet sorrows abide in 
 slow repetitive death..
I must rise
 stand tall
Find face and soul
in that wall..
I must proclaim
I prefer NOT..
PREFER 
this delicious word..
 freedom's choice
 tasted with short
 bursts of joy..

Facing my wall
searching for NOT
into emptiness flowed
a bright wholeness
of  letters and light..
but a price to be paid
for other's disdain
they are forgiven for
 not knowing NOT..
NOT holds those
 letters I've known..
Ah humanity...

Based on Herman Melville's
short story, "Bartleby
the Scrivener"