how distant is too distant

how close is too close

how do the stars know

where they should stand

in the sky

while we scurry around

down here

lost from the day we are born

and trying to find

our way home

when following the heart

means worse 

than having to hurt

but having to be 

the bringer of pains

we've wanted only

to fade to nothing

at all

what is the secret of stars

whisper them to my heart

so I can know

how to be the bringer

of light 

with concern for neither

celestial nor earthly 

geography 

when I keep getting

it wrong

trying to understand

where surrender to love

is in orbitation 

and where it defies 

the natural laws 

of what gravity gives

no pardons for those

who break

and the only constant

is the desire to love

and to turn the longings

of the heart

from wants

to illuminations

and to take each day

as it comes

living inside the heart

with no other place

to be at all

but the place 

that offers love

to the sacred of the 

starry distant light

to quench the bringer

of rains that grant

renewal

when you are the star I see

at the centre of this universe

where I am lost

but also the thunder

that awakens the dormant

too long

and revives 

the dancing toward dying

and draws it back to reaching 

for the sky

and for every stem that rises

from the earth

and up from the 

slumbering soil

there are aspirations to touch

that sun

and drink the rain each day

when neither can be done

and yet each plant and tree

do not withhold 

the fruit that grows with 

what does come

whisper the secret of flowers

to my heart

let me live somewhere between

the born from earth

and the knowing of stars

for these are languages of love

I wish I could speak

to you

when all I wish to bear

is love

I have lacked imagination

where it has been vital

to practice in the sacred

as the manifestation

of empathy

that imagination

is meant to be

I could not see

what was not seen

nor hear what was 

not said 

but was there 

in the grasp

of conceptualization 

waiting where the mind

holds the memory 

of cosmic interconnection

and when needed most

I could not recall

my way to understanding 

because it is easy 

to forget

when we take 

for granted

the effort it takes

to hold knowing

beyond the knowing

within the mind

and practice in

the heart

I have fallen too often

from what required

a sacrifice to reach

and grabbed a hold

instead

of how fear can twist

the perception

of what one must give

and what there is 

for one to take

and if love could not

be found

in the appropriation

of imagination

it is because

love was not what 

was coming through

though it was always there

choked off and trying 

to softly sing

suffocated 

through the noise

of phantoms screaming

for what they deemed

was theirs

but all my heart

is reaching now

for stars it cannot touch

as if in the magic of the light

amends could be made

to remove the wounds

already cut

but there is no

turning back the clocks

to dull the blades of time

that have carried the rotations

of what goes through

the mind

when imagination 

has been jacked

by the opposite

of the way the sacred

tells the story

when one remembers

that hearing is 

not the act of waiting

but of seeking 

through the heart

and all that I can do

is pray the demons

silence now

so that even if 

the time to have these

songs be known 

has passed and had its day

I can find my way

at last to the empathetic

of imagination's 

sacred form

sometimes I see you

a kite with no string

floating in the sky

a sun I cannot touch

vanishing behind

the curtain of horizon

and you are gone

then I forget

when I am trying to reach you

that you are not there

not where you appear to be

but somewhere everywhere

somewhere I cannot see into

and I must be silent

letting only the heart speak

because where you are

cannot hear the words I send

or if you do they come through

as muffled convulsions

of what I have meant

until in frustration

I mean those words too

sometimes I am also gone

not in darkness or in light

but only wandering somewhere

far from here in absence of

the illusion of what is me

maybe we meet like secret lovers

secret even from our own knowing

behind the curtain of horizon

and all the struggling 

to make it right within ourselves 

between ourselves 

has been redundant

and neither of us are like drifting kites

swept away from the broken strings

of our own selves

but like birds who migrate 

to somewhere much more warm

when the self becomes a cage

dreams are born

in the place between

the centre of the earth

and the centre of the stars

interversally cosmic stream

cascading in cycles

nonlinear beyond

human imagination

somewhere there

we exist between

the memory and the birth

of what is dreamed

and in dimensions also 

we do not have words to name

while anchored momentarily

in this place

and just as no one can tell

the sky when not to rain

or stop the waters

from collecting in rivers

of destinations that lead 

unstoppable to other 

ethereal destinations

this too will find its way

to oceans not yet seen

in dreams still hidden 

from the eyes

meandering through dimensions

beyond the comprehending

and somewhere between

the heart of the earth

and the fire of the stars

finding our way like spirit

beads of of rain

we will be the seekers

and the found

existing in the flow

as the subterranean

stone

that holds 

the warmth 

of day

through coldest

night

in slowly 

ascending

thermal waves

that bridge 

the moment 

until return

of light

the prayer

for all I wish

that I could be

the keeper

and the giver

of the memory

of fire

we come into this world

meant to manifest our hearts

as corvids 

sharing the dreams

we scavenge

and the light we find

with more concern 

for the nourishing

of each other

than the empty bellies

we hold in

famished winters

but we are creatures

of fear

formed to hungry wolves

asserting the supremacy

of how vicious

we can be

in the ways that

alphas best survive

or assuming the indifference

for omega roles

so there is only

those who take

and those who take

the scraps of

yesterday as though

not enough

was cause for

celebration

I have been a wolf

too long

the alpha and omega 

and the lone

with only hunger

on the tongue

and hair raised

on my back

but still with longing

to offer

what can be shared 

let my heart 

grow wings again

as it was when

it was spirit

let me draw 

these dreams up

from under

every recent snow

let me surrender

the light from between 

my jaws

let me masticate

whatever has nourished

this weathered soul

with the humility

of one who has

but crumbs to offer

yet offers all

if only I can relearn

this way of ravens 

at least 

for you

I lied when I said

I could be anything

but a dragon

with a primal wound

who could hold back

a nature I was trying

so hard to shed

but the damage was

beneath the scales

where good intentions

could not exfoliate

the self preservation

it takes to keep a monster

upright in the day

and I couldn't

learn to face

that my armour

was too weak

to take the lance

when taking it

was the only choice

to keep what 

I loved safe

so I will build 

the fires now

with my fires

to leave in the places

where I hide

and then hide

from those places too

fires for warming

existing beyond

my breath

from the heart

but on the ground

as embers in the dark

let go

but be cautious 

still

for I am a liar

who turns her 

own promises

to ash

voices run through 

the shadows

like children who 

have not yet learned

to fear the dark

who still remember

the dark

when it was 

the warm maternal 

chaga of 

everything known

and the voices

penetrated 

in from

the light

you are falling

through light

in muffled vibrations

and then as the

song that pierces

too sharply into

the night

and so I must

be falling

through the light

and the darkness

too

and forgetting

not only

where I have

been

but where I am

somewhere 

I will find you 

in the cosmic

hide-and-seek

and you will

discover me

as if for the 

first time

and we will

not know

if it is the cold fire

of light

or the warmth 

of the dark

but we will know

what found means

by the harmony

of the song

and then let go

or fall together

into the next

like children

who have not 

yet learned

to fear the dark

or the no longer

children

who have not 

yet learned 

to fear

the light

I wish the dream

did not have to share me

with this world

nor the distance

make its voice

so loud

or maybe that I

would only learn

the magic of water

to ascend 

transcend

descend

with grace

and live

as all those things

in all those many states

beyond harmony

into synergy 

with myself 

between the frozen

and unseen

the electric

and fluidity

and find my

gentle way

to take the moment

as it comes

to let the dream

run through

my heart

to quench and cleanse

and then return 

to sky

let me hold you

like breath

the breeze that belongs

to no one

but is warmed

in the lungs

for just a moment

then passed through

the lips like life

in the knowing

that what is

left to flow

naturally in its

own rhythm

and surrendered

into this universe

is what returns

again