Drifting. And then...

Going away from:

a man
and two dogs,
a home
bills, bikes, skates, cars, boats
a community
friends
a job,
commitments
clarity, some
and a somewhat stagnant feeling

to

a bold new endeavor
far away
fresh
faces
feelings
every single day,
no job, no bills, no clarity, no confusion

just the task at hand.

Listen, absorb, learn
do yoga twice a day
speak from your heart
connect with all of you
live together
find tears
and laughter
exuberance
melancholy
blue, green, yellow, purple,
perrywinkle
all of it,
a spectrum
the rainbow of you
a bright shining light
or even
the worst.

You can let go.

It flies away,
like that dress that was hanging on the balcony
to dry
and blew away

you won’t find it
you know
it's in a different state by now
being worn by someone else
until they decide to lose it
and go naked -
like you did.

Be free.
Drift,
but come back to me

the man
the dogs
the house
the friends
the cold
the community
the bills and daily drills

that make you wild and open and free
when you go away
so you can come back again.

Grounded

More or
less.

A symphony

Teaching yoga
is like conducting an orchestra,
of bodies
of minds
of fascia stuck together and screaming out
of calcium deposits busting and breaking
of blood bursting
through rusted out joints
of nerves firing
the fingers and toes
the tingling
mingling
with just a slight
pain
sensation.
The intensity of each and every
member
of the orchestra
for 90 minutes

more or less

until you blow it all out at the end

a crescendo
of breath
of life,
of harmony
together
hearts beating
breathing.

We are still.

Completly different everything

It’s like flying,
waking up in one place
warm and green
waking up again,
on the same day, even
cold and gray
and so very alone.

Everything changes

onemomenttothenext

we must stay fluid to it
no sense putting one foot here
and one foot there,
half a heart left hundreds of miles away.
At five hundred miles per hour
it will never catch up
and you will be left
sort of empty.

No sense in that.

Just flow,
like
w
a
t
e
r.

Drop,
like
r
a
i
n.

Let gravity take over,
perpetual motion.

Nothing ever stays the same,
and you can’t leave half a heart
in the lobby of the hotel.

In a moment,
everyone cares.
In a moment,
nobody cares.

No one even knows you anymore.

In one moment

completely different
everything.

In love with words

Could it be?
That I didn’t care as much
about your body and mine,
passing heat
like copper conductors
so finely tuned,
as I did about your
"this"
"and"
"that"?
The words you strung together,
like a delicate, durable
fishing line
luring me in
to your web
once again and again.

When your body failed me, and
even your obtuse mind confused me
when we spoke,
out loud.
And when your judgement calls
disappointed me,
like I was suddenly your mother (tisk, tisk).
Then only do I go back
and read what you wrote
and realize
I’m in love
with your words,
again.

You are not even there,
but what your mind decided to decipher
this way or that
at that time in space one week ago,
or two,
now
spoke to me
in a way
I might not forget,
in one week
or two...

The words are out there,
un claimed
un chained
no judgement
no explanations
no reason.

Out there
in the air.

I feel them when I breathe,
pressing against my chest;

my heart aches.

And now it’s been years,
lifetimes, even
since I’ve been in love
with your words
again and again and again.

THE water THE water

A slow melody plays
one note at a time

children are running
looking,
smiling
laughing.

They are you and me,
we them.

Remember?

Have you ever looked in the mirror and one of you,
from before,
was looking back?
Frozen in time,
wondering
what happened to you?

A look.
It shakes you.

Never have you been so serious,
to study that face
to remember that you,
from so long before.
The one that laughed and played
and dreamt

as big as the ocean.

She wanted to ride dolphins,
when she grew up,
thought it would be a cool job
to feed them fish and wave to the crowd.

Remember?

Why not?
A dolphin-feeding job?
What happened to make you think you knew better than that,
than her?
She is wiser than you
now
and you never knew it.
So quick to dismiss that kid
to grow up
to fall apart
all on your own.
And to forget about everything,
and everyone
you ever loved.
Only to look in the mirror
today
and see that they never left you
anyway.

The blender

Mind mixed with exhaust,
honking,
impatience.
Memories
falling apart;
the sidewalk ends.
Across the Main Boulevard,
walking swift,
avoiding the downtown buses impatient turn.
A meditation among
the noise,
the congestion,
the smog.

Did I love her?
Was it real?

Congestion in the mind.
Clouds passing slowly, sickly
overhead,
A bird on a wire
watches for a bit of bread.

Pollution spreads out
like a spill on the counter
dripping over
onto the floor.
Thick particulate hovers in the air,
beyond recommended levels.

Beyond tolerance.

But,
what?

It’s too much,
but where can you go?
What can you do?

Take it in,
over and over again
filter the ugly brown.
The heaviness,
the cloudy layer that investigates your lungs,
for inspiration
searches your brain, for signs of life,
a fight.

Look, there is a bird on a wire
a ray of sunlight penetrating the smog,
the noise.
There is the vibration, of the 10 million lives
all together
breathing in
breathing out.

Inspiration.

A meditation of the mind
while
the body walks on
in the NYC blender
on "pulverize".

You are sleeping anyway

I pour out my heart
thinking of you
of how we fit together
so nice...
So nice.

But you are sleeping, anyway.
I write to you
just thinking of you
asleep
dreaming

of moonlit skies
of sunlight dancing

of secret daytimes
walking the streets of an unknown city
learning ourselves
together...

of being cold, chilled to the bone
when it was dark
and we were caught
without a sweater between us.

But we never left for the folly of shelter,
of percieved comfort.

Because you were there,
the moon was on
and the waves spoke patiently.

It was not just pleasant (so full of her),
not just peaceful (so rich was she),

but perfect (the way she felt).

Just then,

out of doors,
(out of the artificial light),
at night,
(when I only saw the shadow of you),

was the only place we could fit together
so nice...
(So nice.)