When Everything

when everything is quiet one can hear the trickling of clear thoughts

and those real events finally emerge from this fuzzy blur

when everything is making sense and it's dark and it is cool

there is little left that we should fear

when everything can be seen and heard in its own good time

and there are no shrieking sounds or flashing lights

when everything stops its pushing, its shoving and its screaming

we find that peaceful silence is not empty, after all

when everything stops spinning and the shouting fades away

the quiet hidden things begin to croak and peep once more

when everything comes into focus and your feet are on the ground

enjoy this fleeting moment before you are swept away again

when everything turns over and the world can make no sense

there can come a healing silence if there is but a little darkness

when everything is rushed and naked confusion is the rule

then emerges a strength born in the quiet dark alone

when everything is resting and you are left to think

pray you find these springs from which to draw your healing

when everything is silent as the snow falls upon the ground

inside grows a joy that sits beside a warming fire

when everything goes as it should upon a moonless night

the misty milky way reveals more than a simple cold starlight

when everything that has no meaning becomes extremely clear

it is time to let the deeper things percolate up into your mind

when everything is finally still after all the noisy penetrating trivia

perhaps a moments reflection is worth a year’s entertainment

when everything that incessantly clamors is left without an audience

once again, mysteries that cry out can be carried in upon the wind

when everything seems simpler though you do not understand it

we have peeled back yet another layer from the onion of our mandala

when everything unneeded falls away as if behind us up in outer space

then perhaps comes another time when wonder finds its place

when everything that beckoned lies silent at one's resting feet

then maybe this miraculous spring can truly bubble freely

when everything collapses inward as you are left alone

I hope you find there is, indeed, a core remaining at the center

when everything is wrapped in black, and fall ignites the stars

may you, just one time, glimpse the beckoning void for yourself

when everything is not just swirling by from out of every corner

perhaps it's then that it's the time to see what may still be important

when everything seems way too close up and far too personal for your taste

may you glimpse the wisdom in those images from out in deep space

when everything has just been wrong for way too goddamn long

would that you find that elusive peace within, my tortured brother

when everything we hold in honor is simply used to clean the floors

sit with me then and ponder, the moonlight from our rowboat

when everything closes in one day from all sides and all at once

hopefully no longer can you only simply turn away

When everything and everyone has finally chosen between only black and white

Hopefully, god can still be found in the colors of the rainbow

When everything you wanted to complete is no longer within your grasp

Then you will find the questions you never had the time to ask

When everything fades away to the ticking of a clock some winter afternoon

Watch the sun as it chases growing shadows across your tiny room

When everything loses its color as the twilight fades away

May you close your eyes and rest in peace until another day

When everything falls into its place and it’s not as late as you had thought

I wish you luck with grasping the real meaning of your success

When everything seems full of promise and the days grow ever brighter

Take care to notice when the leaves reach the very height of their fullness

When everything reduces to the sound of silence behind closed eyes

Does your heart race quite strangely and do random thoughts assail you?

When everything cries out, but you find that you can rest in peace

Can it matter if you have understood or only learned to ignore?

When everything moves away from you at the speed of light

How can it change the universe to observe the polarity of a photon?

When everything can be explained in terms of unrelated contradictions

It should come as no surprise to achieve great wealth and then to die of cancer

When everything is turning green and gentle rains promise peaceful times

I hope that you can find your way amid the chorus of the marshes

When everything is quiet and darkness fills a starry sky

Note the occasional meteor that streaks brightly in less than a heartbeat

When everything has come down to a decision made many years ago

Sometimes it’s hard to think about what might happen long from now

When everything depends upon choices made without time for deliberation

Instincts trained in long years of practice must somehow see one through

When everything we held in the highest place of honor stops making any real sense

What nearly unnoticeable strength will emerge to light our lonely path?

When everything that is needed is no longer available in the stores

Perhaps it will be time again to simply listen as rain falls upon the roof

When everything goes out of focus and voices seem so far away

Pain, too, is dulled and great suffering is eased, with just a little mercy

When everything continues but without any reasons that we can perceive

Perhaps the sounds of nature may help re-sort the order from confusion

When everything is still but the day, nonetheless, continues to begin

Let there be a moment left before the noise and dust and turbulence start again

When the present reduces to the last 3 minutes of passing distractions

Let this so-called illusion be penetrated by some observer from within

Dogs and Fire

Let us but tame dogs and fire and we can start to make a decent life

We can take a cave from a bear or make shelters with mammoth tusks

We will paint ourselves with ochre and the other colors that we find

We can carve the spirits of our revered prey upon these deadly spears

The dogs will warn us noisily of the approach of any stranger

We can even eat the tender puppies when the times grow very lean

We will huddle together in the furs through the long ice age nights

We will learn to mark the comings and the goings of the sun and the moon

Our fires will light the darkness and bring terror to the awful beasts

We can cook the meat we obtain and warm ourselves in its glow

The dogs will dream and twitch between the fire and the dark night

The dancing shadows will release the mystic patterns out of our imaginations

The dogs will guard the children and bond with them in their play

The fire will dry the clothing without which we would quickly perish

The flickering firelight will reveal where to paint our pictures

Let the dogs eat the garbage that might well attract hyenas

Tend the flames with care that we do not lie frightened in the darkness

Teach the dogs and children to shit away from our campsites

Set them loose when we have cornered something very large

Reward them with tasty scraps as they lick their bloody wounds

Stoke the fire that we might gather round and memorize our history in song

Keep some water close enough that it does not freeze at night

String the beads and stitch the furs in the blue twilight of these long winters

Keep the dogs warm and fed that they help us overcome the starving beasts

Give us warm light and safe free time to make weapons, tools and spirit art

Let us gaze for hours through the flames into the mysteries beyond

Give us dogs and fire without which we crouch in fear and darkness

And we will have short secure moments to wonder at our own existence

Was It Not You

Did I not walk in harmony with you in the soft light before that dawn

          Remember? the birds awoke each other with that sleepy singing

Through the tall wet grass and early summer flowers

          Among the stately ponderosa pines, was it not you and I?

When a gentle breeze stirred no leaves but merely caressed our foreheads

          And the hot and dirty city we once called home seemed so far away

The moon still rode above us but the light began to grow upon the hills

          Was it not you who looked into the distance without a trace of sadness?

Surely it was your eyes which reflected the peaks marching to the horizon

         I know that I remember walking quietly with someone every other day

Although just one figure was outlined against the sky, I did not stand alone

          Certainly we found no need for speaking with our hearts so very full

Did we not pause here in silence as the dew gathered upon our sturdy shoes?

          And we watched that old dog snuffling deeply in every nook and cranny

I know that you were there, for had you not always loved it just as much as I

          That sweet smell of morning somewhere, walking in the mountains

Indeed, it must have been you, with whom I shared those silent thoughts

          Our paths are only separated by the thinnest veil of ordinary time

Was it not yours, this hand I felt so lightly on my shoulder?

          Surely you had whispered something softly just across the years

Were you not the one in whom I saw myself when I was so much younger?

          Or did your grandma once look at me as if she had known me long ago?

And likely you will someday notice that I stand here quite close beside you

          And likely you notice someone who joins with you long, long from now

Did you not strive to point out some magical form in those far-off clouds?

          Did you not stand in wonder with me before the paintings in the cave?

Was it not you who drinks a pint for us just as I drank to both you, and them?

          Did I not feel that same joy for living that fills you now, so very ong ago?

My hands, like yours, were weak, grew strong, then turned old and gnarled

          I felt the sun upon my forehead just as you feel it caress you now

Could I not hear your sweet, clear voice as you sang the song of your life?

          Here I was when you came of age and stood sniffing this fair wind

Were these not the tears of joy you shed, that dry now upon my cheek?

          As we smell the air and see the dawn and hear a wind in the leaves

Did not the dust to which you had returned to, cling upon my own sweaty neck?

          And am I not now a simple part of the good earth beneath your feet?