some poems (the "s" poems)

sipping tea

sitting on the porch,
sipping tea in the twilight,
recounting the blessings of this day,
this life,
wishing, like a child, that all of it could stay like this forever,
knowing that it won't,
that it can't,
knowing that this is how it must be,
the buddhists speak of the impermanence,
the endless becoming of this existence,
and even in accepting this,
my heart breaks a little at the thought of all these blessings passing on,
but it's good for the heart to break like this



secret

there's a secret inside you,
being told over and over,
in a quiet, soothing voice,
it tells all the wonder of you,
sometimes it's hard to hear,
sometimes it gets forgotten,
but it's always there,
whispering,
and when you find a moment of stillness,
you can hear it



searching

i wake sometimes,
in the night,
alone,
searching for you,
amongst the pallid moonlit scraps and shadows scattered around the room,
amidst the tangle of dissolving dreams and images floating around my half-lucid mind,
a dim light in the next room,
evidence,
you haven't gone far,
you too, it seems, are searching,
but not for me,
sometimes i try to stay awake until you return,
sometimes i want to go to you,
sometimes i want to ask what it is you seek,
but i'm so often overpowered by slumber's will,
waiting in the dark,
my eyes forget if they are open or closed,
and soon i am lost to sleep again,
sometimes i wake when you return,
sometimes i cannot find my way back to you until morning,
and what a glorious reunion,
waking to find you next to me again,
as if you'd been there all along,
as if the night itself had been a dream


sleep

sleep love,
sleep,
it's dark,
i know,
but, sleep love,
sleep,
the light will come again