Advise to a Friend

Don’t shame that heart! For one you’ve seen to throw
Away from you his steel and naked bone
Whose mutterings heard in tones of sudden blue
Entrapments blowing from unsightly throne.
He waits unloved now inconstantly
Casting now in bronze then shaped stone
There sitting long and so irreverently
Swearing by his lonely substance torn.
Now grind it! Grind it now to awfully rough
Those layers there of shame and lying blame!
Grind away then sweep to hide the stuff
Grind it now, grind to dust his game
Don’t shame that precious heart into the mire
Don’t tame, don’t ever let it tame your fire.


Sisters Twain

sisters twain—who move those sorry winds
you—who  are the sharpness of cool dawn;
you—who are the fullness of warmth midday;
sisters twain must do this now:

that compass there before you place
and measure for which east to face
and with your lotus blossoms worn
and touching knees to knees to form
holy triangles.

now gather holy fruits
let those allow your laps;
now peal those holy fruits
wearing holy robes that hint
of curve of breast and hip;
now peal those holy robes–be naked

from curve of shoulder to curve of hip;
now allow those holy triangles
show, between your naked knees
and naked breasts and let flow
holy juices. and they–

who would not come to lap from each of you
will never know those holy secrets that
you–what could have shown to him
you–what could have meant to be
sisters twain

She spends her time

Quietly, she spends her time, wisely worrying
for good things done at last – the light in foyer,
the depth of tone of the wind chimes, the fate of the world,
and all those books we read that truly matter.

those winds that mark the passing of the the seasons

Let me speak to you about those winds that mark the passing of the the seasons.With the southeast wind comes this rain we now have; the wet and the dark and hot of it that makes us sweat and long for relief; but it also washes the sky of those offensive things we put there by our errors. This wind has brought storms enough and you may now watch for signs that it is spent and wait for new skies. Not quite yet, but it is lessening each day, and the cool gentleness of the northwest wind will come soon to relieve us, and we will then be able stand in the sunshine of the mid-day and at night each point of heaven will be seen in perfect clarity.

My Favorite Thing

My favorite thing
in all the world,
in every small place of it
in each tiny grain of it
telling me how
such a favorite thing
you are

We Work and Play

We work and play;
and as I watch
your furrowed brows
intent, this moment
while your hands
work and play
to engage creation,
as mine do,
I cannot see,
but know,
this way of yours you do,
for work and play;
as you do not
see mine,
but know my way
of work and play
as well; so
we work and play.

But we know;
we strive and
allow for strife;
and know it is by this;
this work and play
we love,
that we love
each other as
we work and play.

And in that way it is –
and that is it;
that way is this
we work and play.

The Image of You in a Garden

The image of you in a garden –
Your face concentrated as you work
I feel the true and pure intensity
Of love flowing from your hands
Into the soil, which absorbs this
So that our spring may benefit

I imagine your smell as you work –
A smell of dirt and sun and sweat
That as you wipe off your brow,
The stain on your sleeve speaks
Of this garden as your expression
For it is your gift to our spring

I’d sooner this scent of you than soap –
For it is the scent of your love
For all things that breath and grow
That you would nurture into life
And I cannot imagine you as other
Than this bringer of spring and love

– Sebastian