Bird of the Moon

There is a feast going on
that we are invited to …

A wondrous forest birthed
from a single tree

bird feather

A bird singing at the Center of Things;
A bird with a million feathers
of a million colors,
and a million fragrant songs
each sung in the wordless Language of the Heart.

There is no Waiting for this River:
It has been flowing all your days.
There is no Jumping into this river,
you were born and will leave in this
Lovers Arms.

A single Tree and a Silent Sunset
remain embedded in a place where
they Grow Forever Undaunted

A single prayer emerges from
the Lips of Now …

“Fulfill me, because my life is passing by …
“Take me Home, because there is no other
Place to Go …”

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Driftwood & Bones

We are left
We are left here Alone
Driftwood & Bones
Driftwood & Bones.

We are left here alone...

We begin
We begin with a Song
We’ve Known All along
That Right smells better than Wrong
We know who we are
deep in the body of our
Internal Guitar
We begin with a song
The same one that’s been Playing
All Along.

we are all bones

We all smell the Same
Deep at the source of our Internal Flame
That baby inside cares not
about who wins the Hockey Game
It’s good to become Wood
and dry out in the Sun
in the Weather that comes & goes
and the Tides that come undone.

Old beings in New Branches...

Dinosaur Bones become old and wise
as they witness the Tides, the Angels, the Skies
they sit and wait
for you to return
they will warn you
and warm you
disarm you and charm you
remind you of the one ancient fire
that Burns.

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