The rock – a wandering Taoist
follows the currents of space
without preset path
not caring where it travels
free of ambition
no home, no religion
enough courage to orbit no star
content to go where the stream takes it.
It borrows color from the sun
and trusts its direction from some unseen influence,
its only task to go where it is taken.
I see bravery
and a wish for my own heart’s path.
*Oumaumau is an asteroid recently discovered by a telescope in Hawaii as it skipped through our solar system – the first interstellar asteroid to be documented. What I find so fascinating about this asteroid is that it has no orbit – it just rides along through space unattached to anything. That caught my imagination, as most things in our universe are tied to something – but not Oumaumau. Its name means Wanderer.
from egg and caterpillar to cocoon of silk
to orange and black smear of summer
and quivering wings on Bee Balm – do you mark your age?
or do you think only of your assignment
to dance in the flowers
while we, the more evolved, fight our own metamorphosis
from cocoon of flesh to angel
arguing and resisting all the way home
to the garden.
In an old trunk
amid papers saved and rotting
a letter from you never seen before.
Where, I wonder, did this come from?
The words shine like moon rise
Still – I let it go.
unmoving lips give the script a voice
“Here is Ali by the Great Rock Here is Ali by the Great Rock!”
cried the lost boy under a full desert moon.
Wooden camels scraped across the stage
How I loved you!
Still – I let it go.
Darkness, you bring rich deepness
blessing and fear
stealing blankets of warmth
from our comfortable resting place.
You show us stars, planets and galaxies not visible
when you withdraw.
You clothe our world in a blanket of cold,
a womb sheltering seeds of dramatic sunrise.
You are our Mother as much as Earth.
When light appears over the curvature
bathing our faces with tender regard
you take only partial leave,
lingering in shadows and making a home
under our own hats,
hiding in our marrow
a kernel of corn in a field
awaiting the sun
to stir its birth.
You bring us dreams –
relief from ordinary life,
an existence outside of sometimes banal days.
I would not give you up
nor ask you to stop returning,
for you help me see the substance
gleaming daylight often hides
behind her skirts.
Truth hidden by the bright light of the sun.