it doesn’t exist

but everything that exists

exists in it

what we experience is a prodding into a bending of poking of stretching of bouncing back of a thing that doesn’t exist

how unfathomable

and we fathom it

isn’t that beautiful?

gut the place
crack it open
expose the rot
scrape it away

Do not fear these words
Trust completely
Rumi was right
Demolition always turns out to be renovation

This rebuild will exceed all the visions of men
Even with just a foundation poured
And some basic framing in place
The glory of your new arena will show itself

Now imagine dancing in the finished structure….

my pink, ripe naked feet
blithely dawn
after many kalpas
of dark, stifled longings

These gurus know something I don’t.

The Tarahumara Indians glide through
the canyons of the Sierra Madres
just like the ancestors did -
shoeless – more or less

And the yogis reverently rub their paws with oil.
They stand in the wisdom of mountain pose,
the original ground of being,
awakening abeyant discrimination

The barefoot sisters walked from Maine to Georgia
and back again – barefoot
Barefoot!
No shoes
or socks
or flip flops
or boots

An imprint of my indigo hooves
remains
on birth papers
or maybe a golden-framed certificate

Tiny, baby feet

Slowly became prisoners of shoes
And fear
And swallowed silences

Feet!
Gurus of ten thousand paths,
And endless sources of being and doing,
Show me the light!
I bow down to you.
Om namo.

Brilliant moon of silken wonder
Daggered light descending
Tumbled world of passion grieving
Mindless shuffle, Mesmer’s mission
Crescent hero bends before us
Heaving worldly weight each passage
Incomplete cognition wakens
Mercenaries message hastened
Liquid gossamer light
a mutant memory.

I wait for the debris and dust
to settle.
I wait for the drumbeat
to slow.
I wait for the tangled howl of the insatiable world
to give way to a gossamer whisper.
I wait for the chaos
to order.
On the edge of this pulsating breath,
the rhythm of my matrix sets my course
for one point ahead,
and I wait.

Fear, be gone from me.
Doubt, lay down your sword.
Your tongues are coarse,
your murmurings deceptive.
I spring from a more vital language;
I understand now who I am.

I am neither the debris nor the dust.
I am neither the drum nor the howl.
I am not the chaos but the order.
I am the branch that will bend without breaking.
I am the sigh of the stretching string.
I am but the moment and the breath;
they are all, and everything.

And on the edge of that moment,
I draw back the bowstring,
reach bravely forward towards life and

let that one breath
go.

Too much party, too much dance
“Long Island”, “Sex on the Sand”
“Margarita on Rock with Salt”
I need some cleansing
I need some light.

Back to my Savasana pose
In my chamber of musk and rose
I breathe in light
Breathe out lines
Of new poems to compose.

A Warrior I stand
Against the war within
The biggest battle of all
A war to lose
A war to win.

I try many moves:
The Cat, the Crow
The Dog, the Dove
I hear all wild calls
I pose in my baby mode.

I let them out, I let them hide
I let them live, I let them die
After nights of adult life
I find my solace
The child inside.

Everything hurts
I do standing poses
I am in a room filled with drums
I move to the rhythm of the drums
I hug in
I root down, I root up, organic energy
I engage my muscles in side angle
I make sure my muscles don’t move off the bones,
I am softening
I fill up with air
side body long, open to grace
Inner, outer spiral, tuck the tail bone, Mula-bhandha
This is not a linear thing
Triangle pose
I am not in my house
I hug my feet towards each other
my hamstring is safe
Sometimes I think my front leg needs more outer spiral
I vacillate between the two
One is right and both are right
Down dog
I get my arms in the right place
inner spiral forearm, outer spiral humorous
head of the arm bones moving forward
The muscles attaching the scapula feel funny
I back off,
Sometimes I think I can engage my muscles right off the bone
not a good thing, I soften again, breathe in to the back body
I draw up from the knee caps
thighs pushing back, upwards behind me, protecting the psoas
during the lunge pose
Reverse warrior
I go from side angle prep to reverse warrior
Back and forth like Elena says
I twist in a lunge, my arm to the sky
I keep it simple
That was yesterday
Today I will sit in meditation
inner spiral my thigh, outer spiral my shin
So my good knee wont hurt