Tag Archives: seeing

Aperture

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[This poem is #1 in a series dedicated to revisiting poems that were written by me as part of my participation in a collaborative and experimental poetry blog: IMUNURI.blogspot.com. Aperture was written and first published 31 December 2014.]

 

These that are things and not things both
They pepper the landscape
The landscape that is so and not so both
I walk amongst them
The I that is not an I after all, yet somehow is

It’s not that I wonder about this apparent conundrum
As in feeling troubled or some kind of loss
Rather it is there or with it that I belong
Nothing of this casts me aside
All things that I am and am not Rest here

Whose favor would I garner
To look upon this any differently
Seeing is a communion after all
That each and every one of us
Has within the very fabric of being

Ultimately there is no such thing as compromise
And yet how often is there a sensation
Of All of This somehow tangled
Around my ankles that I possess
The I that has no counterpart

As we see through this aperture
Closure is a function of clarity
Focus celebrating the visual spectrum
Saturating this field in the unseen
An exposé of brilliance and crystallization

oscillation of sight

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this is what I ponder

considering what it is

what I co-author*

sometimes without even

realizing the very footing

I take as my own

 
image

I look and I look out

looking out, might I

bar that very pristine

ground of being,

which I emanate as,

simply unknowingly?

 
image

when I look

and in the looking

I dissolves

that I mistaken

once as anything

other than pristine

 
image

and existence reveals

itself again and again

oscillating almost

imperceptibly between

and in that between

there I am

 

not necessary to

catch it (!) no

as it is casually &

(seemingly) furtively

carrying on carrying on carrying on

birthing / rebirthing

 

gently, as if

I am gazing

upon a newborn fawn

breathing in the delicacy

and knowing it

as myself

 

the pristine I am

the pristine we are

emerges as visible

spectrum out of

hum and spin

oscillation of sight

 

 

* to choose either the co-authoring of misery & unworthiness or co-authoring of joy and worthiness ~ I have Mario Martinez and his seminal book, The MINDBODY Code (Sounds True, 2014) to thank for these profound insights and deep experiential touching into this “healing field”

 

inter

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-weaving
as we go
unseen character
infuses lesser known
gods of titration
and arbitration
snow crystal
monument
just under foot


Interweaving ground:sky

Twine of Earth and Sky ~ Bless of Being

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IMG_20150717_201248623_HDR

The tides turn and turn, shifting

but still there is little to scour

 

Flotsam is not splayed about

upon the beach-like shores

 

Yet light glints off a found face

sparking brilliantly its presence

 

This seeing is by an eye observed within

of the heart cracked with a new interiority

 

What of this seeing  when it doesn’t match

any concentrated sense of what it is to exist

IMG_20150329_175716742

Does that suggest that this light, the glint

from within, is false or imagined somehow?

 

Heartily no! This shine is even brighter yetIMG_20150729_193458476

as it is seeing that has gained its illumination

 

We’ve somehow always known we see partially

whether we look closely or beg far-sightedness

 

What once remained mute in its invisibility

cascading like dark matter in vast space

 

Now is our epigenetic wonder and remaking

solace of grace and forthrightness of splendor

 

 

The Will

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The house needs cleaning

things today are strewn about

papers organized and unorganized on the long table

Here and there, there and here

•

The thinking often has a wandering of garbled

life experiences collected along the way

And in dreams  it has a layering like a watercolor wash

over what life has brought here and there

•

Once it was a measure of something essential

–how smooth and ordered these realities

appeared, were managed, shown to the world at large

As if such a point in time made me who I am

•

I bequeath all things inessential to the unfolding

of this life’s replete emanation to their essential returning

Where nothing is owed, owned, thought of, or held over

and not a stick or crumb or iota measured in time.

•

I have died to the life once lived as if there was

an achievement to rally, a fortitude to gain –each of these

offered as a replacement for Simply what I am as myself

What a beautiful death it is, this vibratory transfiguration

•

Here now this territory –without having any territorial

justifications   Opens out –without distance and no other

demarcations that once claimed any right   Singing its vastness

–not as performance or fulfillment  What a singing it is

•

And the house invites cleaning

things today dancing without order

some papers rest and others conversing on the long table

Life is here, there is life

•

I wait without the waiting

each moment a death and transmutation

That is what it can take at times when time is on the clock, the will

written, thusly forgotten –and life is, life is

•

San Cristobal, NM 19 January 2015

•

Thank you as always, Daniel, for your support and love!

What We Carry

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Names rarely hold us
Yet foster some sense
Of a binding we only wear
But long inseparability from

What continuity is there truly
Forms sign up for this task
And yet are insufficient in their
Very purity of grace in letting go

And then the belly, what a grip
Equally capable and incapable of
Locating us as the semblance of
Our preferences, identities, woes

How soon do we falter with our
Suppositions in what we carry
When instead Life finds us again
Again in our essential forgetting

For only as we trace the humble
Traces, the pure subtle breath
Of communion between the Seen
And the Unseen do we know Us

And return that which needs no
Return as it never emerged as
Separate only appearing as so
And we fall in carrying that along

Falling in and as Love
Falling below measure where
With gratitude we momentarily
May see, nakedly and unabashed

San Cristobal, NM
9.3.2014

Fumble

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I am my own all and nothing

Sensations of the body brain crowd in

What of these am I and not

A new mix of All That Is

Dawning like any other new dawn

But a measuring stick was left

By an unexpected guest

And unconsciously I pick it up

Fumble, aim to use it until I see

What it is, grasped in hand

 

Walking backwards sizing things up

I trip over the empty footsteps

That were never there

And that is when

Everything relaxes back

Into simply What Is

 

Photo Shoot :: dance of innocents

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If I could see with the eyes
I See with ~ the wonder and gravity
Of What Is would be deeply evident yet
Needing no evidence nor questioning

And yet the power of those eyes
Is that they don’t see in the plainest
Of ways, but as the ordinarily extraordinary
Depth of field without f-stops

Nothing captured for posterity, contrasting
All sense of judgment with the luminosity
Of vibrancy such that even the Camera
Obscura lays wait, no pin prick necessary

As bubbles burst upon forming, projections
Simply do not arise, people do not gather for or against
And even places do not serve as some kind of Dominion
Nor as shoving off, point of departure

How odd that our lives seem to balance
Between a collection of events and things
As we surround ourselves with tangible markers
Of the intangible. What a task

We ask of the humble traces of earth and sky
When their very nature is just to be
No claim on anything, but abiding and giving
Nonetheless. Purpose perhaps but no need.

for James Wheeler (in asking to take photos) and Peter Kater (for Dance of the Innocents)

20131117-114003.jpg

Stir The Pot (taste the life)

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With each veil, whether opaque or transparent
There you are, such that the phenomenon
Of ‘behind’ a veil takes on a new slant.
You’ve redefined it for me in the juxtapositions
You carry, heavily, awkwardly, and some tenderly.

For ‘behind’ becomes ‘out in front,’ the evening drunkenness
Marries with the sober mess of another day
Creating one breathtaking yet somber step
In the choreography of this life, the life
You have surreptitiously invited me to witness.

Which of these veils lay, in their transparency,
Across your heart? How do you know
Your own heart when that which obscures lends
Its fashioning to nearly every breath you take?
What, in your own private ken, can take your breath away?

Why not let it be so even here, even now.
Regardless of what it could bring, what could
Be said of you, of the other. Melt, like the snows,
That brick of larder sheltered in the walk-in
Of the kitchen of your existence. Taste.

What is here. Taste. Join me in the life that is yours.
Join me in taking in the smells, the fragrances.
Yes, you may suffer immunity from those. Walk
Anew into your own life through my eyes,
Landing there in a freshness that is Timeless.

May these words beckon to you in the way
Your touch has softened something in me,
Even in your withholding. For touch is beyond
Flesh, includes flesh, is the origins of flesh,
Something more than the senses that sees, hears, and listens yet.

iNotice

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Incoming

I notice there are things
that
people
tend to notice

There is what I notice
almost
too subtle
to take note

Is there something we notice
possibly
other than
what seems to be

Departure

Walking
everything stays in one place
eyes toes nose
back hand

Notice(?)

How you don’t leave
anything
behind
everything comes with

When orientation is fixed
things return to
the same
the same

Again and again

How often do I agree
even in writing
gross holds
over subtle

Otherwise

Flame light of fire
Musical tonality
Aspiration
Synergy