Awakening on Winter Mornings

On winter mornings

Even the River Jordan is covered with a thin layer of ice

In my bedroom wrapped up in my white blanket

I imagine how John the Baptist felt as he baptized Christ

I imagine how Salome felt as she held John’s severed head

On winter mornings the sound of wooden clogs

Echoes shyly from the street

Let me merge with nature’s immensity

Like the silently rotating constellations

I too must get moving

Then the sweet smell of mocha

Wafts into my room

Like a spirit reborn with eyes wide awake

At that moment I know

With the coolness of a mathematician

There are strange rhythms

Like waves rippling in our human world

Wake up, my love

On winter mornings

Songbirds will be singing outside your suburban home

For my love has opened her dark eyes by now

Stretching her arms like a young girl

Enjoying the beautiful morning light

I imagine her smiling as she listens to the songbirds singing

And seized by this moment

Tapping on my white blanket

I sing a hymn to love

On winter mornings

My heart is full

And I shout for joy

A pure and good life this is

The haze appears as gold dust

Across these amber blue skies

As an English Pointer begins barking in the distance

This yearning, this hunger arises

And before long, I am yearning for my love again

On winter mornings

I bite into the ice of the River Jordan

Midnight Snow

A warm fire in the gas stove

Crackling faintly

As the man and the woman

Are lit up gently by lamplight

In the study windows and doors

Shut tight against the cold

Cloudy since nightfall

Outside is snowing

Looking out the window

Everything covered in white

As the snow silently piles up

Snow falling on the ground

On the roof, in our hearts

As the world looks on in wonder

Like a child with eyes wide open

At this lightness wrapped in delight

From a distance we hear someone’s voice, saying “Oh, look at how the snow has piled up”

And the sound of wooden clogs

Tramping through the snow

Then as the hour reaches eleven

We grow quiet

No longer interested in drinking our tea

We just sit holding hands

Listening to the deep quiet of the world

Watching the flow of time

Faces faintly perspiring, filled with tranquility

Trying to be open to human feelings

Again the sound of wooden clogs

Tramping through the snow

And the distant rumble of a car

“Just look at that snow,” I say to her

As she becomes part of a fairy tale

Her lips parting ever so slightly She rejoices in the snow

And the snow in turn rejoices in the night

Piling up, endlessly

Warm snow

Snow falling-- heavily, gently-- down on us

In Adoration of Love

Passion that knows no limit

Like terrifying rising tides

A burning, perspiring fire

Where salamanders dance—turning, twisting

Late night snow ceaselessly falling is a wedding feast

Our cries breaking the desolate air

As we are shattered by this beautiful force

Immersing our bodies in mysterious rhythm

We breathe an arousing rose-colored mist

Illuminated by the jewels of Indra’s Net

We mold our souls again and again

Hidden in winter, new life

Cradled in winter, the heat of sprouting new life

Everything burning in the rhythm of time

As we too are burning in electrical ecstasy

Our skin comes alive

Our internal organs repositories of our joy

Hair lit up fluorescent

Fingers with a life of their own, crawling

The real world that is chaos

Devours all words

Full of light

Full of bliss

All distinctions revolving in one sound

Poison and nectar—all housed together within

Our bodies convulsing unbearably

Supreme ecstasy lighting up a labyrinth

We are buried under the heavy warmth of the snow

Melting into the natural elements

Endlessly lost in earthly love

In praise of our lives from afar

Cohabitants of the Same Kind

--Quietly, I mold clay

--Click-clack, Chieko weaves

--A mouse runs out for a peanut fallen on the floor

--A sparrow snatches it away first

--A praying mantis sharpens its claws on the clothesline

--A fly-catching spider performs a triple jump

--A hanging hand towel dances a solo

--The mail arrives with a crash

--The clock takes a nap

--The iron kettle does too

--Hibiscus leaves unfurling their tongues

--As a small earthquake shakes

To the music of cicadas singing

Above all these cohabitants of the same kind

A blazing noonday sun beats down