We Play Portal

I awoke
this morning
in the gold light
turning this way
and that

thinking for
a moment
it was one
day
like any other.

But
the veil had gone
from my
darkened heart
and I thought

it must have been the quiet
candlelight
that filled my room,

it must have been
the first easy rhythm
with which I breathed
myself to sleep,

it must have been
the prayer I said
speaking to the otherness
of the night.

And
I thought
this is the good day
you could meet your love,

this is the black day
someone close
to you could die.

This is the day
you realize
how easily the thread
is broken
between this world
and the next

and I found myself
sitting up
in the quiet pathway
of light,

the tawny
close grained cedar
burning round
me like a fire
and all the angels of this housely
heaven ascending
through the first
roof of light
the sun has made.

This is the bright home
in which I live,
this is where
I ask
my friends
to come,
this is where I want
to love all the things
it has taken me so long
to learn to love.

This is the temple
of my adult aloneness
and I belong
to that aloneness
as I belong to my life.

There is no house
like the house of belonging.

~ David Whyte ~

(whats going to get me through today besides Tom, multivitamins and Thou).

 this ones for all those Drunk with Love this morning:



this ones for all my Brothers and Sisters who Sing in the Car:



this ones for the Golden Boy, and my friends in the Jewish Mafia:

for sending me one of the most perfect and beautiful pieces of Poetry ever.

he asked, who is he?
and i said, god sent him to play the piano.

he had a Ferdinand tattoo.

listen to my Light Brother, whom i Love.

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=122813866

a Pacifist honors the Resistance

"The Heart is a Muscle

Keep Loving

Keep Fighting."

for all of them but you

It was the like the last arrow in the quiver, and it was You.  

After I stop emptying out it’ll be easier to put it in the past. 

I sincerely agree with you that whatever Happens should Happen.

But I will admit to being biased, and I will admit to grieving,

Which I honestly didn’t think id do openly with you

But my ways have never been clearly marked.

I’ve Forever had to make my way, wrestle through lowgrowth,

My skirts are ragged from water, rocks and thorns.

The open road is not familiar, nor does it comfort.

I’m out there wide open, plain to see from the Hedge

Which I’ve always called Home.

The Hedge that offers Refuge

The smell of cool Earth, the stain of berries

The words of The First Children

Written on the giving ground.

A hill in the moonlight

A clearing come morning

But the wide and open road requires

Far too much swagger and denial

For me to walk it.

I was not given much time to attach myself

To the Idea of This

But it was an Idea I carried in my Secret Heart

Since you and I began

In a corridor

Where I pushed off ill-equipped

In my coracle

Crafted from my own skin

Weeping in the grim corridor

For the loss.

The loss of my Life,

Grafted Myth

Of Love and Time

The loss of my own Meaning

The Sacrifice of Love and Time

To bottomless implacable

Death without Resurrection.

And the spirit that fluttered

Within the cage of This Flesh

Was a sudden Brightness in the

Lowering sky of the weary Traveler

A shooting star.

Not mine to know or hold

Only stand below on a Hungry Earth

And shed the shell

To release the pearl

Celestial and nebulous

Bound for other Oceans.

U.S. Defense Secretary Robert Gates, who was at the CIA during the covert campaign, said Wilson's life showed how "one brave and determined person can alter the course of history."
in honor of Charlie, be brave and determined.
in honor of Charlie, see the movie.  

worth every minute it spends of your Life. 

imho, as they say.

this is for the cowboy

with Great Love

from me

anyway.

a Journeying On Song

If On A Winter's Night a Traveler, Indeed.

Blessed Be.

Wish You Were Here.

"We are pain and what cures pain, both. We are the sweet cold water and 
the jar that pours. I want to hold you close like a lute, so that we can cry 
out with loving. Would you rather throw stones at a mirror? I am your 
mirror and here are the stones." 

this is for the latest Little Traveler, come and gone.

Bright Fortune on your next assignment.

Blessed Be.

and this is for the Beloved

who gently sees me Through.

"Your face is true and your hair is perfect and I love you. You make boats 
in my dreams and you speak without words and I love you. Your fears 
unnerve me and your questions amuse me and I love you.  I love you not 
only for who you are, but for the interesting person I become when I'm 
with you. I say I love you and love you and love you until the words 
become the constant song of your voice in my head and the original ache 
of memory in my soul. I love you more than life and death, more than 
everything that's in between the light and the dark. Do you believe me? 
Try harder. Do you believe me now? I'm always with you, which is why I 
know you will never abandon yourself."