Showing posts from May, 2013

Keeping it Fresh.

In Asheville waking up. Just getting moving this morning. Last night's drive was a bit long. Ended up taking me ten hours as opposed to the normal 8, 8 and 1/2. What a beautiful drive though. Driving from Ohio, through West Virginia, Virginia, Tennessee and finally to North Carolina.  I kept thinking of the Rumi quote, "I can't stop pointing at the beauty." That's what it felt like. Green hills all around. Clouds to write poems about. Cute little houses and cows dotting the hillsides. I had great music on sometimes, sometimes silence.

I think what I love most about traveling and being out of your element is that it wakes you up, gets you out of your routine that you can get lost in, day to day. You look up and you say, 'Oh ya! I remember this beauty, I remember this inspiration.' But it's always as if you're seeing it for the first time, as well. That is real beauty. That is truth. Where you know you've seen it before, maybe you've seen it …


The blessings brushing against my fingertips
Like reading braille but not comprehending
The possibility that lives within
The promises of questions unanswered.

What will I find within you
What will I know in this moment
that opens it's mouth wide before me
Just like your unread pages.

The Reunion.

The Reunion.
(inspired by a dream)
There was a cliff, below which lived a pod of alligators. We used to walk there together and peer over the edge, silently drawn in by their cool and steady existence. Occasionally, two of them would have an apparent disagreement. With a quick thrash of their tail in the water, it was over. But that thrash. It was so quick and so powerful. First silence. A slight bump. The violent thrash. And then stillness again. Like it never happened. Intoxicating.

Amy and I were best friends since grade school. We knew everything about each other. Well, I guess I mean that we knew everything that you're willing to tell another living human. There are things that you tell your dog or your cat or pray about that you would never repeat, even to your best friend. I know that, I'm not naive. I suppose Amy had a few things deep within that she never told me, that she never told anyone.

The last time that I saw Amy she came home to visit. She had been living in …