And suddenly, you're soaking

How many droplets
must fall down before we say,
Now it is raining

Play It Safe

I am going to sit in a chair,

she said, 

when I grow up. 

I'm going to click my finger and stare at a screen,

and go home and make dinner

and fall asleep.

I am going to sit in a chair,

she said,

and never stand up.

I'm going to always jump when they say "jump",

and go home and drink a bitter cup,

and drink deep.

I am going to sit in a chair,

she said,

and I said fine.

You must not whine and you should not pine,

you chose your choice as I choose mine,

and the price is steep.

I am going to be safe,

she said,

and smart and sound.

But no risk is still risk when you have a hand,

and never play your cards when you know you can,

so it's cards you keep.

On Fire and Burning

We light the lamps
that never go out
and pray
for the blue sky in the morning,
but the sun rises
brown and red and grey.
They say
"GO!"
and so we march,
the horizon isn't fast enough.
We'll make it come closer,
we'll make it stay
bright, then brighter.
We are on fire
and burning.
Nothing stands in the way
of feeding the embers with green and gold.
All the forests and all the rivers
were made to snap and crack
and sway.
The world is ending,
so they made
a ladder higher than the others.
Run towards the planets,
run away.

This is how I die

Here I am
all the atoms of my body gathered together
humming
inside the fist of God;
waiting
to escape
and spread
like diamonds across glass
over the face of the universe.
I think that when we die,
it's like the unveiling of stars at night
to the vastness of eternity.

the two who become one lose half of themselves

You offer me peaches and turn down the bed. We are soft to each other,
we use our palms, we serve. We speak at half volume
and words are careful. 

I go to sleep early and you work late. I wake up late and you leave early.

I clean your plates and cup your cheek. We make delicate plans,
we check in. I leave my phone in my pocket. I forgot to write down the song I was
singing in the car. I was going to paint. You wanted to hear your new record but you wait.
We had planned to go to the park.

It's not important. How was your day?  

The Tired Woman's Song

Give them your skin, mother,
give them your hair.
Give them your youth, mother,
give them your care.

Once you were rocked
now you are rocking,
once you were listening
and now you are talking.

Give them your heart, mother,
give them your eyes.
Give them your hope, mother,
give them your lies.

Once you were beautiful,
now you are kind,
once you were yearning
and now you're resigned.

Wiser and weary
and broken and lovely,
your joy is your labor,
your labor, your glory.

The first note

I get ready. My knees pop
and in the silence, it is like the shot before a race. My heart takes off
for the finish line. I do not breathe.

This is why I love it. I forget.

I open my mouth and here comes the first note.
Too loud,
offensive, almost. It is such a surprise.
It moves, washing over upturned faces in the dark and silting down at the back of the room.

I shake with the birth of creation and awareness, I feel hunted and worshiped.

The first note is the true gift, the sounding bell of pleasure for the
ones who listen. A connection exists.

It is like the first touch
from your first love, 
when you suddenly knew
that your heart was too small
to contain
the riot of your soul.