KNEE TO KNOW

KNEE TO KNOW

DAVE WASHER

A Solstice Meditation • I am Life is A mystery Every piece I Think I know I set down My heart is calm Love • Two words I no longer need Always.

Never.

• Life is Changing Let it all unfold I am very blessed I am a beacon of light I am surrounded by love I am grateful beyond measure It is a long beautiful journey to arrive in this moment I am here right now I am here now I am here I am •

A Reminder

for Linna in Memory of Daniel

1. dear sweet young human we’ve never met but I trust you the world should be in awe of you you are real and alive and it is fucking crazy and insane out there and who can tell you don’t worry hun, it will be all right? this is not that poem who can write sentences that can say all that needs to be said? who dares to say something declared as true when truth is so disguised behind layers and shrouds and veils and empty words by so much so much loss grief betrayal misunderstandings hypocrisies suffering sorrow who can describe how to find a door that opens to joy love beauty

hope inspiration

light equanimity wisdom

who can tell you how to grieve when our hearts are so stretched who says no one has ever died of a broken heart when they can’t see yours and the world you live existential nightmares real and poignant daily headlines of war and climate change our histories of colonization and racism who am I amidst the fires and muck our mind is the proverbial cup overflowing who chose these toxic teas being served Is it procrastinating to just want to take a hit and curl into a fetal ball of emptiness for the rest of your life

2.

How does one person see a hundred year oak tree and see just another thing brown and green?

While we see it as a habitat for birds light shines through as sacred dappled light leaves fall and decay the rot becomes electrified a network of mycelium connecting the forest the things that live there all the flora and fauna their myriad of languages humans choose not to listen to It’s not just a metaphorical truth but an indigenous 10,000 year old wisdom that of course, we are all connected as one and the trees, the soil, the rocks, the water the animals, the birds, the insects are all in the conversation and it is our duty to listen to what biodiversity and this oak stand for And in the winter rains when doubt and darkness are everywhere we can visit this forest dig our hands into dark moist living soil feel fecund life feel connected where chanterelles are waiting moist golden rare jewels In this place of mystery and wonder if we could say the word God would that make it easier to say thank you and trust again?

3.

You are here always right here right now In a place where the human parts the trauma and drama can not touch you It feels sacred leaning into the light in the trees it’s just for you we can hear the trees whisper the birds sing the quail call watching out for their babies the wind off the ocean salty and fresh there it is, a door It could be this moment early morning dew on the spider web pastel animal clouds reflecting on Tomales Bay the way a hand drops a pebble into placid waters a surprising splash concentric circles of waves ripple silently towards shore becoming less and less as if by magic a blade of dew dropped grass moves it is magic it is sacred the smallest glimmer in that moment of discovery is magic

3 cont

Your heart is sacred you are the hand releasing the pebble you are alchemy I can say this you are god there it is, a door Nature is always true nature never lies give voice to the unseen, the unheard the unknown you were meant to tell your story but do not be the story we are always changing always evolving those we have lost are always near goosebumps there it is, that door

4.

These are doors that leave duality behind this is not that poem, not that poster art this is not another adult telling you

you are so brilliant you are so creative you are so beautiful you are so athletic you are so fortunate you can do so much

In a hidden tone of patronization a condescending pat on the back even a compliment is disguised as a judgment If you can do so much then why aren’t you doing it and don’t forget take out the trash your essay is due tomorrow!

5.

Maybe this is just a reminder you are not alone there are moments in all the sorrow those gentle hearts, the Shining Stars these people we miss the angels we love our broken hearts our shattered dreams that nothing can ever make right This small reminder we are a miracle to be in this body on this planet right here right now however you want to say it you are the divine spirit awakened infinite consciousness borrowing a human body

Sometimes I just need to repeat William Blake poem like a mantra To see the world in a grain of sand, and heaven in a wild flower Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, and eternity in an hour

6.

It seems like when things happen they all happen all at once my mom had just died a dear friend’s son was getting married another dear friend had just died of ovarian cancer another friend had a baby I was collecting flowers for an arch portal an astrologer told me that I channel from God I said, Okay God lets see what ya got? sitting in a dripping forest near my house I have goosebumps all things feeling woven together some infinite tapestry this is being in the flow this is where things we can’t explain seem to always happen my mom and Phoebe feel near this poem arrives as one solid piece we arrive as light and we leave as light and in between we share light whenever and with whoever we can add a splash of–– kindness and generosity a pinch of–– wisdom is knowledge with humility I start my morning here

7.

Once I was bored in my freshman prerequisite biology class we we were studying symbiotic relationships did you know lichen is one of the first living things on this planet and is a combination of algae and fungi?

I thought a good way to impress the girls back in college be sensitive and existential used words like esoteric I doodled mushrooms scribbled esoteric mycorrhizal patterns on a wooden school desk to be or not to be suddenly became to lie like lichen and so I wrote my first living poem I perform for you As you perform for me You the algae I the fungi Together we lie like lichen Making Love On this rock never really got a date lot of smiles and validation I became an English major anyway We humans need each other we are symbiotically connected we are the lichen connected to our rock our mother, our earth we only need this love inside to save her to save ourselves

8.

Delight in that mystical unknown world we humans are at our best when we go into the unknown find something that resonates in your heart cultivate presence let inspiration and creativity find you Doodle, scribble, draw, write, sing, play an instrument, build things, make things, cook good food, make a list take time to breath, take time to enjoy what you’re doing talk deep into the night with someone you love make dreams together on how to save the world, take slow walks in the forests, the beaches the wild rivers, the deserts, the mountains go find wonder on a granite slab at 12,000 feet stand at the edge of the ocean watching whales breach pelicans flying aligned off the edge of a wave wingtips touching the offshore spray close your eyes and open your arms and scream I fucking love you

9.

It’s okay to feel the pain it’s okay to dive deep into the well of sorrow It’s okay to cry and never apologize for the deep unexplainable emotions you are feeling no words can tell your story but it’s okay if you try It takes more courage to be vulnerable and transparent than to be stoic and sure just remember that the root of all these tears is love is love is love love love love not the romantic sexy love, not familial love, not happy hallmark love Capital L Love Is the true essence of your self that is the light we carry the dual reality will do everything imaginable in the corners and crossings of life to diminish it impermanence is the traction that reality leans on interconnectedness is the microscopic mycellium and the boundless star threads that connect us to the universe Love is light you are the sole agent of your world some say God, I say Light in the Trees (a title of a phoebe’s art piece & tattoo on my arm) tears well up as I write these words I feel wonder and awe that under all the sorrow is the deepest reservoir of love those are the tears we cry what a gift it is to be overwhelmed by gratitude

10.

A reminder surrounding you in light surrounding you in love opening a door to find a world filled with hope and wonder may we all open doors for others truly, the only way we can heal ourselves is to help heal others you are the brilliant gift you are revealed as an unlimited infinite being a heart of love you are here Remember and listen to that silent voice I am here I am here I am here I am here

I am here

I am here

I am he

re

I am here

I am here

I am here

As the boat leaves the shore The light cast shadows across the lagoon Her eyes squint upwards into the sky She rows out the harbor towards the infinite horizon Large monolith rocks shaped jagged like teeth line her route It’s a windy day in mid April gale force wind warnings Spring holds hope but today her signals are mixed She told me she had been hearing voices At the airport and she almost missed her flight The veil is thin the voices are more apparent That is nothing to be afraid of I consoled my eldest daughter

Are the voices saying we are welcoming you Rowing home to where your birth began Is the falling a leap of faith That says god will catch you Or is the falling always an ascension From earth to heaven leaving the body behind The boat that rows out to sea is her painting That holds the memories of her young life That moment in April the boat left the shore She felt as light as a feather comfortable to just be Herself as loved as love can be whispers Returning is not falling I love you she says The wind is howling and the voices murmur It is okay you’ve done nothing wrong Death is the hardest for the living And April will never be the same for that

We’re both lost Our conversation was leading into a delicate place she says, if we go forward as this we change the molecular structure of our relationship life is a journey, I say still I grieve for what we leave behind can I read you a poem? she asks I’m making coffee and stop to listen the poem offers its world, natural and beautiful wonder and paradox, the weirdness of existence my heart is already open today I cry all the time now, one of those I hate to say a silver-lining gift after traumatic knee surgery I can’t turn back from the vulnerability the world could always be this gauzy a universe of big fluffy clouds a chiffon curtains all dreamy I’m lying down I’m flying I’m crying it’s all the same here we are both lost in the moment we’re both lost

Her poem casts me into the woods, crying flying lying down I am lost in the forest, tall firs leaning into their shadows brambles underfoot catching our feet, poison oak touching our sleeves, the sun is going down we left my house with her dog and son off-trail hiking leading into drainages halted by large downed trees suddenly everything feels different we feel small I know there is a familiar path but for now we are lost it is just this feeling that we’re unable to find our way touch that familiar thing that lets us know we are okay, we will be safe it’s just this, that I feel best when I feel lost, witnessing my fear of feeling alone and without compass, transformed by a magnificent forest, beacons of life giving force that nature which has takes such unforgivable beatings from our human hands still just grows and surrounds us and I am happiest when I am lost in this light in the trees, I feel forgiven.

I watch the forest and birds outside my window she’s still reading as the trees in the morning light moving softly from an invisible wind everything seems so much bigger than our humanness we will be okay

The mind is a brilliant thing and we’re all going to die Where did I just set my keys Do I have fucking long haul Covid brain fog again That tick bite last month I’m feeling my heart now Is it normal for my age Oh wise men please help me Buddha Jesus Michelangelo Leonardo da Vinci Aristotle Darwin Einstein– Oh wait edit that I mean Oh wise women please help me Madam Curie Malala Yousafzai, Jane Austen Maya Angelo Pema Choidron Mary Oliver Andrea Gibson Saint Phoebe I forget the others I know there are more What books do I love Is this living in fear Something is missing The pain in my body The falling into darkness What was your name again So many people I love are dying That secrets I can’t tell because I cant remember them

A fall on my head That overwhelming hum in my ears That story I can’t let go of The ads on TV the ads are everywhere Where was that place Not enough sleep Change the world is on me I cry all the time now They are missing again This broken heart I’m feeling more vulnerable Her daughter is not eating Too many drugs There are always too many wars Will my knee ever heal my partner feels lost and anxious This feeling of aloneness I try to eat good healthy food And we’re all going to die

The stillness of arriving

The stories of our lives we share together I feel softer when you make me laugh better when I hear about your day helping young children, you hold me when it is all too much Too tired, too weak, too disappointed when all the books on shelves make me dizzy, the important papers on my desk are still unopened cast long shadows, I can’t find the something extra to finish the next Sentence when this body is not my awareness you still hold me when I can’t open my eyes You know how to be the ground I can always find my way home you are my satellite always be glowing Stars slowly dimming in a million years from outer space we are still the constant, two magnetic planets revolving in our stellar orbits around our magical gravities when all this human worldliness dissolves, there it is

Only dust and space, I still see a molten translucent golden center within light shades of pink and blue fading to white becoming all light I can find, always find my way then We are light we are atomic waves and points we are home we are ground we are teachers we are falling We are rising we are river we are homeless we are silence in the stillness we are laughter in our wisdom we are healing in our kindnesses It is a sacred open, uncertainty cultivating vast emptiness out there in this field of unknown we are the always in the stillness of arriving together

This is how we will win the fight a homage to Andrea Gibson

The rapture of being alive Feeling the thinning of my skin Making paper doll chains or a great poem Training my eyes onto the small things The glitter in the gutter, the dew on the web My love we are born into astonishment and awe Be the watcher and the witness as I have heard Babies don’t form tears in the first two years Only thing we have control is where we put our intention The remembering of living is understanding of dying Right here in this second Let it overwhelm me I can live In the divine It is Liberating to give up control I then say I just don’t know I live in curiosity I will always head towards an expansive place Focus on your peripheral sight it is not what we see It is how we see I feel the most grateful when I was wrong More than the words Write because you love it Joy is our birthright Everything here Is a miracle The world is this incredible thing, fucking beautiful so fight for it I know the sound of a poem before I know the poem Speaking a language that is not a language It is like writing a song that is feeling the emotion Understand the vibration this is how we will win the fight

Waiting Waiting Waiting I am seeing the ghosts of war starved children everywhere Not just the haunting images in the NY Times but the The raw longing for that which is not there Waiting for someone or something to reveal itself I see myself as a this missing boy I always assumed This white minister’s son’s happy family childhood Become inverted into something else Insecure here, shame over there, hiding being around everywhere But first I land again and again In my sweet mother’s home I see her young four year old self on the living room couch Kneeling facing out a window towards a tree lined street Looking out into the Texas void waiting waiting waiting Starved by loneliness in the hot Waco summer Her single mother ignoring her grading papers in another room Her raw longing for life erased being abandoned by her father Her age always changes to the innocent child at eight The young awkward six foot girl at twelve The lonely adolescent at seventeen who finally gave up Longing for the shadow she could never reveal and In college her body evolved her into tall beautiful Baylor Beauty A ribbon around her neck, but cast into Andrew Wyatt’s Christina’s World Her supine exhausted posture in a human desolate Texas isolation As God as my witness I will never be lonely again She met my father and said “I’ll travel the world, I want to see it all” He said yes and they traveled the world but that only disguised her loneliness The sweet southern drawl of a pretty girl raised her family as a ministers wife So she left to see the world and left me alone waiting waiting I’m still waiting

Surf Tibet Once upon a time I held a hand so softly Silently asking Do you need help That the space between our palms Was the lightest place Of not touching touching A universe beyond measure Star light sparks synapses connect For hours the delicate movements Space between not fingers but time Flying across a world blue skies Vast arid deserts Tibetan Magic The shamanic Icaros Wolves howl The darkness and light at once Later I will ask Tell me about the disease It is fine if I don’t think about it But I’m dying they say You will tell me if it changes Only three people know I promise I will tell you

We held hands for another moment And traveled back to those farthest corners We could return to that world without signs and nouns A space between palms We flew further than time and space Rain storming in wonder and wind on a skylight recalling ancient drums I could hear her Phoebe has the power to change the weather I exclaimed to no one but myself I believe!

There is medicine in the night’s mystical power enough to move mountains So powerful you never need mention to anyone But are we really that wise they ask me Most people already are They just don’t know it yet, I said Electricity between our fingers Enough light for a small town in Tibet

2.

Once upon a time I landed in Tibet I met a man and asked him for light I walked across the Lhasa tarmac walking 60 meters to my backpack Even then a voice seem to be watching over me We are all on such a solo journey welcome Elevation enough to make me lightheaded My limbs burning with needles and pins Glare of light beads of sweat Stinging my eyes hard to believe what is real Dreams at night but never really sleeping I meet a family they invite a total stranger to sit with them Water heating over the dried yak dung coals Poured in casual ceremonial love I drank the rancid salted yak butter tea Holding slips of transparent parchment A daughter continually chants prayers A grandfather sips from his cup through his scarred smile And the last remains of broken teeth I wonder if tortured and beaten are his stories A tea as foreign as the place I sit the first taste fills my senses Not of an exotic rancid fatty salted chai but Of sacred yak butter prayer candles

Burning in the few remaining temples A somatic memory of sacred within and without A history so painful something so illustrious I did not know how to cry then I walked counter-clockwise amongst prostrating pilgrims A large loud crackling fire of burning cedar sensory overload overwhelmed by the ancestral sounds and tastes of caramelized smoke Wood collected with loving devotion from 400 kilometers away where trees can grow The most beautiful man I have ever seen gives me a piece of turquoise I leave before dawn with the Tibetan family freezing in a Russian 1940 open truck they call a bus A secret trip to help repair a once magnificent Temple One of six thousand monasteries and holy grounds destroyed Along with millions of innocent monks and believers.

A secret genocide of a once magical sacred culture A cultural revolution gone mad I learn later it would still be years in prison If caught in this act of treason Of rebuilding this rubble into hope Not that long ago it was death by sticks and stones If caught carrying flowers as the intellectual bourgeoisie I drove across the high planes of arid emptiness Toyota Land Cruiser and a confident silent Tibetan driver

We are driving on a road called the Friendship hwy across the great Tibetan high plateau From Lhasa to Kathmandu The highest pass in the world Elevation 6,380 meters A moon scape of expansiveness A lonely place with a crest so flat You can still see the earths curve Celebrating this monumental height A thousand years of hands intentionally stacking rocks With colored prayer flags releasing their wisdom A frigid wind moving amorphous clouds that shift the sky Revealing a hundred kilometers to the south The highest point on our planet Above the Rongbok glacier An iconic peak that pierces the atmosphere Challenging humans to climb her To breathless death or heroic ascent Light as sharp as razors Is there any outpost on any map further than here I eventually land in the town of Shigatze The Chinese imposed Panchen Lama resides here I find myself lost for 50 years foreign individual travelers Were banned from entering Tibet Why I am alone to be here now I’m not really sure Small children run towards me like a group of chickens dark soiled cracked hands Never have they been washed outstretched

If I could read these palms I smile and also feel anguish Begging laughing smiling dark gorgeous eyes Not for money Chanting Dalai Lama Dalai Lama Picture Dalai Lama Dalai Lama I have arrived prepared I give them photos of his holiness and Polaroid photos of their trusting smiles Water is frozen from a hose spigot A six inch dripping icicle suspended time here is frozen The day is brilliant clear The light feels like mirrors Cutting my skin blinding my eyes A far away voice from a balcony A shack set into a faraway cliff I hear faint indecipherable language but English against the monotone landscapes and white washed pealing stucco buildings dotted with drying yak dung Set against this non-duality landscape a familiar voice Do you need help he asks I blink into the sky trying to focus For a moment I wonder what to say He is wearing a Mexican sombrero American not a hippy something else Perhaps I’m the hippy A lanky tall white gringo is walking towards me I almost say no and he senses that I need a place to sleep I say

There is a restaurant that has benches I think you can sleep on those Not a four star hotel but better than nothing he says In Tibetan he gives clear directions to our driver You speak Tibetan I ask incredulous Can I buy you dinner He knows how to say yes He says yes I stow my gear under some hardwood benches We sit at a small table drinking warm Chinese beer A plate of tsampa and a bowl of chicken soup is served With head and feet floating in the broth I have questions Who are you How do you know Tibetan How did you learn to read Sanskrit Why are you here What are these people really feeling So much grief and loss What history is real now We talk into the night we are close to the same age He is John Newman He’s studying with the Dalai Lama To learn Tibetan language and how to read Sanskrit To better understand the history and messages hidden in the text He has permission to go into the secret libraries

I sit in awe as our conversation travels Across the many fields and landscapes He brings color and knowledge from immersion and experience Bit by bit we get to know each other I invite him to California He’s from California He went to college in Madison Eastern studies I went to Sonoma English He lives in Dharmsala I live in San Francisco He is studying the Mystical phenomenology Vajrayana Buddhist Kalacakra tantra he tells me I design surf and skate clothing Surf Tibet I say Yes he says laughing that’s it exactly The electricity dims and goes out We are talking in the dark I tell him about the hidden Buddhist temple Odiyan A 100 foot golden stupa only visible From the ocean on the Mendocino coast I found while growing pot with a friend He’s never been to Northern California He grew up in So Cal I grew up in in So Cal He grew up in in Garden Grove I grew up in in Garden Grove

It’s almost pitch black I can barely see I tell him I think we need more light He goes into the kitchen Brings a lit candle to our table He went to Garden Grove high school I moved away by then I went to the Lincoln elementary school though I say I did too he says I lived on Crosby avenue I say I lived on Sherman avenue he says Rusty Bostelman, Donny Killenbach, Greg Harrington Names from the neighborhood Yes I remember those friends he says Long long ago from another time We look at each other in the dim light Dude you were at my 7 year old birthday party I say I remember you Dave Washer I remember you John Newman We hold out arms clasp hands Holding palm to palm First time I feel heat and see small sparks in the space within time How did we get here along these complex routes To arrive at this place In this moment I look up sheepish my life has meaning I have not learned yet how to look someone in the eyes He does and holds our gaze Is this one of those moments when you meet someone Visions of Ram Das be here now The Beatles and the Maharishi is this one of those awakenings

Is this that mystical moment where I find my path Oh Sidartha, David means beloved stories my mother told me Life changes and nothing is ever the same In measures of heart beats awakening arrives and it passes Yes, but still a spectacular exotic story the voice whispers I meet his eyes what does this mean I ask Do I now have to become a Buddhist Ahh Dave he pauses his eyes holding steady Most people already are They just don’t know it yet John sounds casual as things like this happen all the time I will never forget these words this moment We do not exchange addresses we never speak again I find my bench and a small blanket laid out Once again I freeze instead of sleep it is a long night

3.

Once upon a time Light and life Were swallowed whole Buried my face into the earth Swallowing fists full of dirt and grass Dropped from a plane falling falling all strings cut Landing in a foreign field reality was not the same everything everyone became inverted trying to read life forward Through a mirror backward There is nothing finite There is no wisdom nor words There are no mathematical equations to reconstruct Quantum waves and dots are useless A friend giving advice I will cut you out forever for that Life as a spiritual journey is on a need to know basis But an eldest daughter leaving their human body so early Is I fucking need to fucking know now reality No longer knowing a spiritual journey It is a journey knowing a spirit Everything else is left behind Phoebe has secret powers I believe but do not understand that is faith my son the voice says I’m no longer a father to this saintly angel I was told early in a night with wolves There is no right way or wrong way to grieve No time table on how long we grieve I was told early by an indigenous elder chief That in their culture they believe

That those who die young will stay behind to help you heal I was told early by a person by no hint from me found her by name in the ether Could see her angelic spirit Explained that phoebe has always been my guide All in white dancing like curtains in a breeze had important work to do elsewhere It was over the years that I learned by walking and crawling under shrub and manzanita Following faint deer trails napping where they had slept Grief is not about healing to end the grief Healing is transforming grief From a place from grief as stomach crunching anguish To a place as grief into heart opening gratitude Understanding that the tears we shed In our deepest sorrow In the deepest roots Is a well of deepest love That is the nudge Into a faith to believe in There is more than we could ever possibly fathom In this world far beyond our philosophies And physics of time and space You heal by being the healing for others Not to find enlightenment but become bodhisattva that hold the door open for others to walk through There is nothing to say to suffering but validating love We are all love we have always been love We just don’t know it yet

4.

Once upon a time Both my parents died My Mom eighty eight Her body and mind like a boat on a lake A slow coast to her final breath nine months later My Dad ninety seven Just long enough to grieve Her safe passage home Was told by his doctor it was okay to die And three days later he did Death comes in many ways It comes as a benevolent friend It comes as a blasphemous assassin Both deaths are the same shrouds of myst Both parents died in the same hospital bed In the living room Our family home facing west towards the horizon A view of the ocean and on a clear day The sleeping feminine outline of Catalina Island Family holding their hands telling the stories You could feel their spirits leaving Dad and I created a ritual on my visits We sat on a bench near the sand watching the ocean I told dad mom was dying soon I think she’ll send a whale today Instead a large pod of dolphins hundreds Came swimming towards us just for us Breathing the salt air talking about life death and love

Short term memory does not retain breakfast or the superbowl But we could still go deep on feelings and philosophy no one else in crystal cove saw them Afternoon golden light small wind chop reflecting like diamonds We both blinking our tears into the sun Dad she did it I said yes she did he said The next morning she died Even in his short term memory sundowner dementia He never forgot this moment and as we returned we sat At her bedside and told thr most elegant love poem Of their life and love together I have ever heard After they were both gone A light was dimmed A page was turned An epilogue written at birth So reverently revealed after death Phoebe’s sudden fall from the cliff dropped me out of the sky Both landing in different worlds Where nothing was real I had to start over Return to Go do not collect things from your past Mom and dad’s death were softer everything became real I mourned their deaths for the loss of my self It is said you are not and adult until your parents die I felt that truth and wrote their eulogies Left the paper in my pocket and spoke only from my heart and have ever since To be truly living understands death as a friend

4. cont

Dissolves the duality of a diverse reality Non duality is the space within space opposing impermanence What a fraction of finite time we have to be alive twenty eighty eight ninety seven are eye blinks as simple time equations We inhabit these complex human bodies in the shortest measures of time Consciousness flows we are the river becoming ocean Why do we hold on so hard to the shame we’ve landed here with I meditate in this place and close my eyes feeling the sun’s warmth Things become still breath is slow I feel presence I always do My head becomes heavy a silent movie begins to unfold My eyes are shut but I can see clearly I am transported The screen opens into a world dimensional and infinite There’s a horizon that seems endless I am moving barefoot but I don’t see my feet My closed eyes are the lens of a scanning camera

Something in the distance set against the barren arid moonscape The lonely Tibetan friendship highway once again appears Mountains ranges are vector outlined Curves across the horizons Instead of piled rocks and prayer flags There are pastel color slowly revealing Three larger than life crystalline translucent pillars appear Each a different color their size is beyond human measure Yellow pink and blue each one emerging from a pearlescent white mineral I walk towards them We are your three saints the angels say Once upon a time as your Daughter Mother Father I am wondering I am wandering I am light I hear these words You dear beloved you are also a saint You just don’t know it yet

5.

Once upon a time Something happened I came to a place where the world Stopped me in my tracks And the voice said Dave Washer we love you You deserve this life Have no shame The world is magic The world is in chaos We’re at the tipping point A call to arms we see you You are here to do something important It is all yours you can do anything My eyes are open hearing this It feels erotic as my entire body is shimmering A golden brilliant light surrounds me sparks igniting around my body Palms forearms thighs calves chest soles of feet top of head Sparks like a grinder’s wheel in the night’s shadows Weightless Let this be my death Let this be the door Let this be my life

You can touch the music You can hear the silence We can see the horizon together We are all god Each of us a part of the cosmic mycelium web Love thy neighbor We are bio-dynamic creatures Kick ass mother fucker All returning to earth Head and feet floating in the broth I’m all in Infinite ocean mycelium soil I walk toward you now hold my hand softly feel the light We already are making a difference We just don’t know it yet

When I was just a small boy 1. When I was just a small boy Maybe four or five years old My mom and dad went on a long Extended world tour Pan Am airlines The ticket was free as long as you kept Going forward I knew nothing of this at that time I remember mom telling me Nonnie and Grandma would be taking Care of us Me and my brother just the two of us then Nonnie took us on a month long trip Up the California and Oregon coast She made us keep a scrap book And it was almost fun but The driving was stupid boring But Grandma couldn’t drive and we Landed home and hours felt like days Days felt like weeks Months were years My grandma was from Germany landed in Scranton She didn’t have an accent but her voice was rough she was short and wide Her temper was short and bare Wore long threadbare dresses and smelled funny She looked ancient in a way I didn’t understand Which is just another way to say scary Her skin was wrinkles her jowls had layers of folds She only cooked stew beef potatoes carrots celery I tried at all times to stay hidden from her I was convinced my parents were not Coming back home I was convinced they were not just Normal parents

Something mysterious laid behind Their disappearance It could not be explained I was beyond sad A state of hopeless and helpless My world was only my bedroom and dining room where I would hide everyday under the dinner table The table cloth just long enough To be safely hidden I went looking for cues to find more information Where are my mom and dad When are they coming back In my searches I found my dad’s Blaupunk short wave raidio It had 6 buttons First two were FM and AM But the other four were labeled SW SW short wave where in between static I could hear sounds I did not understand If I tried hard enough I could turn the mobs And move the antenna enough to make out voices People mostly men talking All in different languages or if English in different accents Or words that were obviously code I had discovered access to mom and dad’s hidden world Secret lives even if I didn’t understand I could listen for information For the endless hours The whereabouts of my lost parents In my searching for clues I found something Unexplainable Something magical

At the top of my mom’s secretary desk They was a hidden in a small secret drawer I had to use a chair to get on the desk part Use other drawers like ladder steps To reach a tiny door with a drawer I found a purple velvet pouch A metal box with pink and turquoise jewels inside There was a lock on the box but after days Of searching I found a tiny key in a drawer My mom kept her pens and letter openers (Which I also knew were actually weapons ) By this time I was sure my parents were not the Reverend Dr Washer and his lovely wife Dawn O’Brien Washer But truly secret agents on a life threatening Dangerous top secret mission I had watched Man from Uncle with my dad I knew about these things I was I also had super powers to fight evil I knew my parents were in trouble But I didn’t understand the technology Of how to use the SW buttons But when I found the hidden box Everything changed I went to my hiding place under the table I slowly opened the box There were two decks of cards One turquoise and one a deep purple An intricate exotic pattern was printed In solid gold ink against the deep color The edges of the cards were also gold Which made them look like solid gold bars Even now they’re beauty has never been matched These were obviously a treasure These were obviously the reason they were gone

The cards had a magnetic force They were so slippery that they actually Floated off the wooden floor I began to use the cards as an instruction guide Tune into the different stations I developed a technique I knew then that I was here to help save their lives My parents had to find their way home The floating cards had emblems and numbers Hearts, diamonds, clover and a shovel I began to realized that by using The shapes and numbers With the buttons and the dials I could find different countries Different cities Different languages Different citizens Different lives Different time zones Different realities I worked diligently turning nobs Dialing in the different frequencies It was a very scary and difficult job Each button represented a heart or shovel and so on Each number a station And underneath it all I was certain they were dead But I would never give up

2. I see this small boy, me hiding from his Grandma Trying to find his assumed dead parents Who had left him With a scary human Desperate to create some kind of technology To cut through a vast and infinite landscape To try to resurrect his mom and dad The faith of a young boy to spend hours in hiding Turning dials And looking for portals A way to see reality further and more clearly Using magic cards And some kind of time transport To find them.

They of course were fine and I was so glad To see them But this beginning of aloneness I am finding Still haunts me Sometimes I feel as if I’ve never left the hiding place Under that family dining room table

3. A few weeks before Dad died I reminded him of this three month Pan Am around the world vacation Where my parents left me alone My short wide wrinkled accent foreboding Grand ma For three months How desperate I was to get them home Using his Blaupunkt radio Those 4 SW buttons And a deck of magical Moroccan gold leaf cards He laughed full heartedly He had hard short term memory dementia by then But nostalgic memories still delighted him

Even painful ones or at least my painful ones If we took that trip now he said We’d be thrown in jail for child abuse I had to laugh he was after all trying to be charming We were watching TV He and mom were always watching TV Mom had died a few months earlier Sometimes he’d ask where she was She’s gone I’d say she’s passed on you know that A trailer came on for a movie with a VW van A back drop of an Alaskan mountain range Into The Wild flashed the title I saw that movie he said Really I said not believing him not really his kind of movie I was thinking But then he surprised me That movie was way to sad for me to watch he said Ya really I retorted he eats some bad berries There was that he said but it reminded me of when you came home from your trip They wheeled you off the plane in a wheelchair You were so skinny I really thought you were going to die I was going to die? I asked It was traumatic I continued but I never thought I was going to die You were in the hospital for a long time You couldn’t walk some kind of arthritis Yeah my knee was a mess Reiders Syndrome Doctor said my spine would fuse up I’d be a hunchback one leg would grow shorter But no one mentioned death to me I laughed Well now you know he said not laughing

4. So you should know I’m writing this poem If you could call it this a poem On my iPhone one finger at a time Not very Jack kerouac But I like the one letter one finger at a time approach I haven’t even edited this yet There’s a fire in the fireplace Jenny and I are in Elk New Years Eve is in two days It rained all day Jenny never got out of her PJs And bathrobe I got her for Christmas A perfect day she says I went out right as it began to rain I prepped a pork belly with some red spicy dry rub put that with some potatoes in the oven 500 for 15 minutes then down to 275 and left I forage for mushrooms here I’m only looking for one Hedgehogs they’re a favorite And I know a spot There are not a lot of people who walk these woods A year can change things and a fallen tree Lush new growth growing in speed with coastal fog And El Niño winters The old road cut used for hauling out lumber Is overgrown in places as if it never existed Hedgehogs and Bolettes grow in conifer duff Chanterelles in the coastal live oak The rain isn’t bothersome under the conifer I have to wear a hood to keep the rain off my neck My knee is wobbly and I walk slow It is difficult not to trip

Carefully with intention not just for the hedgehogs But also this knee of mine is a mystery Knee replacement western medicine at its best They don’t tell you it is severe trauma Amputate the leg spread the tendons and muscles Attach an implant and glue you back together Five months in I go in for my six week check up My knee has been abnormally swollen Scar tissue is dried blood and it’s numb and ugly He looks at my knee and says we have a problem I had walked in feeling good We’re going to Taos New Mexico in a few days It’s our vacation can I ride my bike Your knee cap has slid off That’s not good It has to be fixed you can’t heal like this 5. My leg is a foreign object now I don’t really understand it In a year I have had four surgeries and have lived in a world of mystery Not the mystery of wonder which calls me forward as a blissed out child but the mystery of what the fuck is going one with my body I am not dying of stage 4 cancer so there are many many blessings but I can feel what it is like to see dying I can ask myself am I afraid of dying am I afraid of death My knee feels like a radio with some cosmic antennae attached yes there must be short wave buttons that I can find 6 year old self again find the channel to what is channeled Not finished....... work in progress

Everything we lose is a gift Sweeping leaves around the mediation has pink concrete with deep expansion joints laid out as an exact grid of squares a stark striking contrast that only enhances the randomness of the falling oak leaves within the mathematical equations of architects and masons who plotted and built this human structural formation I sweep my broom against the linear patterns with a kind and friendly intention for the mother oak tree Circumscribed within the boundaries of this architecture light broom strokes that move leaves in a direction and hard quick strokes that dig into crevices and wispy strokes for the mats in front of the door and short strokes that have the rhythm of a metronome and long strokes that sound like a river and staccato strokes that sound like a cuban drum beat I rake the leaves into small piles that land in the center of a square A sense of collected randomness in the tight angle geometric pattern I’m an old yogi sweeping leaves at the monastery I was a master in my field building exquisite gardens Habitats of native plants pollinators flowering shrubs trees I am now as the other meditation students walk into the hall A frosty cold morning

Not finished work in progress

To be finished....

The river catches my breath I am the leaf floating upon the surface the river catches my breath a thin branch dragging its tender weight waves of easy concentric ripples sunlight moonlight twilight iridescent reflections I am forever dancing down the currents and eddies rushing, falling, spinning and splashing how many times have I drowned and then been saved smiling I again I again I another thousand times again I was the first fish that could swim I am the minnow in my mother’s belly I am the river that catches her fearful hidden eye as she pulls me out perhaps it will be this life’s time that I am the one who will find the courage to break the chains of this human shame and suffering an find my way back to the ocean and the source of this river

Dance class instructions on getting down hearing the trombones and saxophones and a big bass drum and touch your toes like wind through trees a heart clear of disease we’re singin loudly from the bleachers now ring the bell on your way down let the birds in and dance like a clown wiggle your nose and smell a rose dance upside down holding your breath shuffle across the floor slip and fall but don’t hurt yourself sing loudly sugar pop mama move your feet in time with the baby elephants do a waltz with your cat pretend that you are your favorite animal find your way into another universe and on the way down find a pair of tweezers and pick some nose hairs who cares waltz in the opposite direction that the birds are flying Sway the way you remember your first kiss dance and groove like you’re wearing skates and its not thin ice pretend your alive and electric tango with your ghost in the closet well if you do hurt yourself make that the new dance Your knees will forgive you later dance like you were a fish swimming through kelp stand up stand up reach up to the sky breath breath breath while you wiggle and giggle jump to the left, jump to the right, dance like there were never any doubts you’ve jumped through all the hoops its time to get down get down get down your flying now and no one can ever stop you

crawling on my hands and knees

Went into the forest yesterday. Crawling on my hands and knees under the huckleberry in the pine encrusted dark rich fecund soil. I reach my hand in to the depth of it. Smell it, rub it around on my fingers. Dig a little deeper and feel the essence of all that is, all that connects to the planet. I think of Love and I think of how our bodies move through this world. I want to dive into the earth like I dive into your body, how you give yourself to me. You are such an earth being. Every part of you tastes of the earth I love much. I love your lips, I love your nipples I love your skin, I love your ass, I love the wet essence between your legs. Diving into the being of you is diving into the most lushest forest. My passion is for something so much larger than just two people making love. It is the passion for loving the flow and magnificence of the natural world and all it’s gifts. In a world that is so divided and so out of sync. What a gift to find we are the a portal to the center of the astral world of pure sublime consciousness.

Nothing but wonder

There is a new voice in your sound how delicious the world smells after this prescient August rain fills our cups the doubts and complex parts drop away like autumn leaves a light wind carrying us is it too early to dream about fall’s release a place we can walk to point at anytime and say I am here take a deep breath exhale and see nothing but wonder in the mystery a song for the future a sound of echo and crickets

If There was a Way

If there was a way To make it all better Untangle the yarn To remember the right word Rewind the misstep Always find my keys If there was a way To remove all the shame To be understood To not feel afraid To remember every dream If there was a way To be healthy and fit Feel laughter and joy Find lightning in a bottle See miracles in a blade of grass To reach out and always feel love If there was a way To talk to the trees Understand the secrets of the hive

See the webs hidden in the soil To watch all the animals Hidden in the forest Burrowed in the earth Swimming in our vast waters And hear all the secrets they hold Say hello to the wild life And hear them answer me back Good morning dear human We endure you We still love you If there was a way To soar across sunsets On the wings of a raptor To discuss philosophy with a raven To take a nap with a deer Run on a trail with a coyote Listen to the secrets of a puma Meditate with a fox Become the sound of a creek

Wild Nature

It is in the wild nature Of the self I loose myself And step into the unknown I remind this human body It’s okay It is not lost To wander It is not wrong to feel fear To be human Is tiresome so easy to forget feeling uplifted by joy so hard to release falling into sorrow Even in the most courageous moments We can reside in humility Even in the most tired feelings of retreat We can reside in courage And then I find my self In the wild nature of being Oh yes you were there all the time

In the Night

There is a Haiku in every moment The sound of opening A jar The taste of water on your lips And the closing Of a lid My daughter has the power to change the weather And it rained all night The sound of rain drops on the sky light

P i t t e r p a t t e

Finally falling asleep after a beautiful night with plant medicine and icaros r I think I stole your pillow

i

looking for something You’ll find it in the morning

n

g

One Small Feather

There are so many layers and realms to this world There are languages that have no nouns There are intelligences that have no brain yet can make decisions that can change a forest These five senses are only the tip of an iceberg Which is its own tragic cliche metaphorical noun There is so much more to all this Our planet is the most beautiful place This blue green jewel within an infinite solar system This living breathing god of wonder unto itself Humans were once so amazing and magical And if we hold still can still yes we are A time of cultivating life and balance I wonder how did we come to this place Of separation from spirit And being stewards of earth Watching the 6 year old grand daughters Learn to hold the new pouletts

I tell them how to whisper love words Rustled and scared then calmed to a presence Holding the young hen softly in innocent arms Telling their tiny egg laying friends I love you trust me In your arms they trust you So now feel the trust in your self This sweet animal cultivating connection Without holding onto her Feel her calmness and trust This is how we save the world Settling life feeling trust one small feather at a time But then the next morning The dog gets into the paddock Sweet natured pet turned blood thirsty animal Chases the chicken into the goat pen Snarling and swinging the hen by it’s neck Chaos and feathers I rush in and separate the dog and pull her away We count the hens Stella sees it first Fuscia is gone she’s the one who lays blue eggs she cry’s Fuscia is my favorite she can’t be gone she has to be here Her blue egg sister Elsie sits on a perch clucking her sadness EL Rey our Rooster crows loudly mourning for her return Stella and Junie knew their chickens Had names for each one and loved them Race home to be with them We look everywhere for hours Fuscia is gone Their sadness is unbearable not just the girls but the hens and Rey She can’t be gone I know she’s here says Junie

Just before dark Fuscia came running home Straight to her sister in the hen house clucking loudly Kids she’s back I yell proud and relieved I always believed she would come back Stella cry’s out loudly El Rey and the other hens all returned to the coop Junie the youngest exclaims–– all the hens And El Rey knew she was gone!

They really were all so sad and missed her and They all called her home They really talked to her Stella says quietly––I’m glad she came home so all the chickens can go to sleep happy tonight That is the faith of understanding Believing Fuscia will make it back home to safety Also the world can be scary without closure Is it the benefit of understanding Or is it the faith in believing Is it the noble truth that anything can happen and will The quiet dog goes mad Returning back to it’s it’s pack nature Trying to kill a small feathered friend There is the quiet sense Of being a part of nature Holding witness to it’s beauty and its profane To be human And understand you cannot hold onto life But the quiet sense of being A part of something bigger than all the flocks Holding witness one feather at a time It is change one feather at a time

Infinite Forgiveness

Where do we touch the sun And do not return The wax wings melting Above an ocean of intolerance We build our ships and fences Things with measure and security Thinking forever is the time we can hold something Onto the journey Onto the flying towards the sun It is not hubris to believe in light To see from this distance The river’s bends and turns Eroding its way through the darkest crevices Riparian life growing without despair Reaching out towards the air When we do melt and when do we succumb Even Cancer can be a gift Shouting FUCK CANCER At our loss and despair

And it may be something you might never see again

Looking downward Or is it upward From this dizzying height It is the ocean we become Infinite forgiveness where time no longer exists When time starts again Light is revealed in your wisdom Where truth is hidden in a breeze Worms curling through earth are the heart’s door I stumble past the nouns to make it all clear Where love is the river And the starlings fly as a dappled murmuration cloud In play with earth flying random and synchronized Thank you for showing me how the world is always alive Against the cool golden sun low in the sky Where truth is hidden in the reeds Her eyes say she knows more Skipping verbs from the shore like they were pebbles Look to the west The puma watches it all hidden in sword ferns against the oak Surfing backside flow across the river Tears show up like random rain Even if you’re hungry tired and cross A teary smile as a rainbow appears over the hill and a junco picks at a seed And it may be something you never see again

In the Waters of the Sublime

In the waters of the sublime I rest my weary legs Amputation and lack of sleep Have rendered me into a world I am helpless to understand All I have ever known Has left me on this shore I have waded in ankle deep I am wobbly my knee is week Yet there is this electrical current glowing brighter as if an angel from another realm only seen in dreams Blows on it like a flame Ever shining and more luminous The ocean and the stars are the infinite And my feet in the sand Are the last vestiges Of a human hour glass dissolving Our mathematical universe into a fungi network

I have sat in wet decomposing leaves Under the oaks and pondered this moment Endlessly, as if on my own death bed Darling, how can I feel so much alone Surrounded by so much love That every molecule in my universe Is ignited by a source we all share When I hold this war torn human experience I can see half of humanity I can see half of death But from this sublime place on the shore I am the pebble dropped from the sky Intoxicating mysterious wondrous All I can breath are waves of love As I splash into the sea

Yes we have this in common Oh yes that secret power you and I share That thing that goes straight to the core Sees the wounds and wiring can parse out the hopes and dreams can absorb the loss can revel in the joy can tell at a moments glance what is your favorite color That they just bought that new blouse That new bike, that new flair pen or those glasses or that haircut This is not that flirtty fluffy complement to see the cute boy or girl swoon this is the insightful message that sees the rare ore— that no one has ever mined that secret sauce in their walk that hidden creativity, that unspoken dream that open heart that wants to cry I love you that open heart that just wants to curl up and cry I’m lost it’s seeing the first day of a new journey its understanding how big of an accomplishment they just completed understanding what eyes hold expansion or contraction between a breath or how an imperceptible sigh lands understanding the subtle sacredness in the feeling of gratitude that is hidden under years and years of an old story pealed back for the first time in the grocery line

In a world where complements sound like a patronizing pat on the back, or the I’m okay is actually a cry for help help me please or that I’m great is really something so spectacular and Oh yes lets catch miracles while they are happening right before your eyes baby its okay to cry in gratitude it’s understanding that when they say I’m alright and their eyes reflect the subtle light differently a dear animal they have slept with the last 12 years has just died or their mom was just diagnosed with cancer or witnessing a kindred spirit who shares a unique language without words Two sister angels who have been waiting for a millennium to say hello so you say lets have coffee together and it is like you have known each other for ever and of course you have known each other for 10,000 life times There is never-ever a moment when hello is just a hello good is just a good or a goodbye is just a goodbye We are all fellow travelers Star lights living on a planet made of dreams A moment when a person steps back and looks forward there are goosebumps, there is fire in your arms and legs suddenly there is nothing but wonder and love instantly transforming into inspiration and joy

They look back at you as tears begin to well and you say yes please feel free to cry you hold them in your arms they lean into you say thank you no one has ever said that to me before I haven’t been able to cry in 15 years since….

You just fucking made my day they say And all you say it’s all love darling its all love Thank you for reminding me that you are a gift you are so beautiful and its as if the word beautiful arrives for the first time as an authentic act of being This moment has never occurred before This sacred magic moment was not created it always existed and it took this one small secret loving nudge a brilliant booming blooming blossom surprise of light Oh what awesome secret powers of validations we can share Yes we all have this in common

This Changes Everything Where is that tangled tender thread I know the question is always changing Is it our world and this planet Is it that you might not love me There are no absolutes answers are meaningless Even when love and beauty surrounds me I can look so comfortable Suddenly I feel the knot in my gut For no apparent reason Who knows where love and grief hides Is it the death of a friend Or your friend or you Even in the most blissful moment Tigerlily, dad, mom, phoebe The reminder of how much a wave of sorrow Can be a belt that just tightens A constricting darkness across my ribs And by the time I finish writing this Something will change Moment by moment Breath by breath Equanimity Is the Silence Of understanding emptiness If I could will this poem To be anything It would be to fill You with the expansion Of love

Boy Breaking Glass

Truth is hard to come by I wake up often to countless illusions At a point far down a path I never go, a town I do not know there is broken glass everywhere along this road Along the way the sage appears and asks me Why do you travel with so many breakable things They are all the memories of everything I care about I say They are useless they are meaningless they have no value here he says The street is lined with glass windows Behind the glass store fronts are glass jars and glass boxes Inside the glass containers are small glass specimens of a life Inside a life are quantum particles of my life which is really just light with edges This is your moment that you let it all go the sage says All the pieces you’ve held so strong and disguised All the pieces of your hidden parts are now shards of broken glass All the pieces breaking apart shattering around you

You were just a boy when they began to tell you who you were— Who you can be, how to be strong and brave, don’t do it wrong, Flirt with the girls, be a good dad, buy a new car, pay your bills Work so hard, learn how to be seen and be don’t forget be significant Love yourself and loose all the things the sage said Lighten your load old man start fresh today before you die Break the glass and just be light with edges Go back just be that boy breaking glass Enter the river let the water softens all the broken edges Dissolve back into sand returning to the ocean Standing there with your feet in the water No edges only light you are a beacon of love returning

It is the Angels And just saying that aloud is enough It is the first thing we can see Unravel old memory one thread at a time Just stops you right there and gasp Is it the angels that change the weather and stop traffic It is more about how do we split the notion of time and space to spit the gauze Oh Guides Some moments rearrange all the living parts Even though it seems like it is all just so random It’s okay to cross now Love is the only reason we are here Angels do not necessarily have wings Oh God It’s like we’re all here for a reason And there we are all standing at a traffic light Waiting for something to happen The angels just want us to hang out together again Learning over and over it’s all love that’s all it is big awesome love

Oh Sweet Soulmates We carry light with us, Some may call this light others might call it divine I love you my dear for all the lifetimes we’ve crossed paths dear soul mate meet me at 6:00 lets have hot sex tonight so the angels can talk behind our backs again

Oh Devoted Angels You allow the other curtains To be pulled back like a beautiful dream at christmas in chicago Thank you I really mean it I really do Thank you Oh Sometimes I don’t understand any of this It’s not about us humans We are all god together They say wait I’ve been waiting So long to see you again Oh you Saints Just as I was about to step off the curb Witness love as it touches The back of my neck Minding my own business mind you There’s your hand on my shoulder You don’t have to Believe in me you whisper I believe in you That’s all that matters I can believe in that

A Poem for my Son

Never be afraid to love Always let inspiration swallow you whole It’s okay to cry in moments of joy It’s okay to cry in moments of sorrow It’s okay to cry in moments of profound gratitude They are all the same thing all is love

It’s not that I want more It’s that I want to be clearer It’s that simple

Who Faces Death who faces death and asks who am I who looks into the soil between their fingers and is flown away to vast ancestral memories who introduces themselves with their name and says and I am dying who were you before you were born who can remember their face before they were told who they were who can look back and say not what I did but how did I feel who holds a sacred lotus flower knowing it is a mushroom in disguise who can count all the stars and find the answer in the leafs in the forest who can count the grains of sand and see them as the stars in the galaxy when can you be the child and the old human as you sing along to bird songs when did you stop asking questions that have nothing to do with good or bad when is being love ever a bad thing when can you be something that is yourself that has no meaning who can dance in the shadows and their sparks light up the sky who can sing with such sweet love and innocence with one tear could change the world who sees magic and understands if you say it it renders it forever gone who faces death and says yes I am not afraid of you

So Fucking Magical

When something is just so So fucking magical Knowing that something this so So mind blowing beautiful infinite love forever expanding rainbow unicorn starlight kiss sweet angel singing lullaby move mountains medicine of unfolding ancestral lifetimes sparks out of my head Never needs to be spoken of Just look at each other and nod

I am Still Alive

I awake to dark rumors that are unheard They are ambiguous bubbles as my mind shifts From a peaceful unknown to a gnawing doubt waiting I am moored as a listless boat on the bay The water lapping against mussels as an incessant voice The wind agonizing apologizing chattering shrouds slapping against the mast Clanking clanking clanking as an incessant voice I remember as young boy Opening my mother’s secretary desk drawer Opening old letters written in peacock blue ink a script What secret messages of her broken heart I cannot read I remember my second grade teacher’s complimentary voice A young boy who describes the blue dress she holds My hand is still raised all these years later, waving with an answer what is a word that describes The blue dress is tattered the young boy answers The dress the boy the sound of a word the light In ms Diablo’s enthusiastic smile, what a creative wonderful word sweet boy she says And in all the chaos and uncertainty of a long and not always easy life this one smile of admiration one small validation Is all I ever really needed to remind me I am still alive

Winter’s Approach Winter’s approach on this rainy morning The water’s metronome drip drip drip Somewhere out there invisible Counting out life in rhythmic measures How wonderful to bathe In this moment A child splashes rain boots at a preschool A ballerina carefully ties her shoes Somewhere out there a silent sound A crying mother’s approach In her raining mourning holding her child We are bound In the brilliance and the darkness There’s a war in Gauza Her baby wrapped in a soiled shroud A gauzy world behind the grey mist her tears are in the waters drip drip drip In the sorrow and the love drip drip drip A sound Were there’s is no place To find The answers to the echo So we listen So we love

So we listen

So we love

By No Other Road Do We Travel

The becoming of ocean Receiving rivers as I Am the totality As the confluence of streams I do not suffer this as loss As the lost path is my body As the lost light is my love As the lost bird is the forest As the lost wholeness is my clarity And so what then becomes of death When everything we lose Becomes our greatest gift I can remove one pebble from one path so The fence that has weathered all the seasons Returns back to earthiness and mycorrhizal threads

How is this entropic moment when time slows slow slowly becomes a sound like stopping and space just marches on infinitely By no other road do we travel How is it always us who hold sorrow and anguish gratitude and joy as they become pressed into our bones while death is there waiting How is this the secret All the magic scattered across eons All the miracles never seen We have been told not to listen How it whispers within each breath

I wake up instead

Is it just a nightmare Leaning towards it Another night without sleep I have no answer but anxiety Call 911 A close friend is in my dream and shows me their wound Is it me Sometimes I just have to be okay Watching every full moon Merry go round and round Mary Oliver touching death again Was the last thing I read Innocence so far away How can they survive I can’t look away

A sleepless night Wisdom even further A dark hole inside our ribs Feeling lost and slipping More than stitches We are all just so human Longing for a kiss Dangling like a gold ring Death beside me this morning I saw the wound just out of reach

I wake up instead

Snow Globe

It’s still snowing outside We FaceTime once a week, once a month Hey there how have you been I haven’t been able to speak For almost two weeks she says But you can speak today are you cold you’re all bundled up I ask her We have heat but we can’t turn it on Just for four lights our electric bill was $350 It’s better to wrap ourselves in blankets It’s not so bad really once you get used to it I don’t’ leave my house everything is so far away I’m losing my grip she’s says What can I do to help I ask It’s nice to know someone cares Can you get a job I ask They don’t let people like me work What about your art are you still painting One night a week there’s a class I have a big canvas I am painting on that you should see it I like it What are you painting I ask Geometric patterns I’m using bright colors Concentric interlocking nesting shapes I don’t live close enough to make it there It’s the only place I can see myself I’m too tired to write she says What can I do to help There is nothing you can do Well I need to go soon Okay you should go then

Is there someone I can call There is no one you can call Is there some way I could send you money I don’t want your money I could never pay it back You can pay it back I trust you You’ve had paintings in the Tate You stood on stage and rapped a two act play That you wrote about the sadness of the moon You were the youngest women to ever be tennis champion of England We went to a pub and you beat the guy holding the table all night And that was the first time you ever held a cue stick You can read minds You love dogs and all dogs stop and want to be with you You stood in front of 10,000 people and spoke confident what it was like to be neuro-divergent living in eleven different dysfunctional foster homes because your father killed himself after trying to murder you and your mom died in prison You are brilliant and a year ago you shined like a star I’m a snow globe she said People just want to shake me up See how special I am So they can show to themselves See we are still good people and feel better About themselves when they go to sleep at night Ahhh so so pretty snow sweet snow globe And then they just put me back on the shelf Then the connection was lost and when I woke up

When I was just a small boy 1. When I was just a small boy Maybe four or five years old My mom and dad went on a long Extended world tour Pan Am airlines The ticket was free as long as you kept Going forward I knew nothing of this at that time I remember mom telling me Nonnie and Grandma would be taking Care of us Me and my brother just the two of us then Nonnie took us on a month long trip Up the California and Oregon coast She made us keep a scrap book And it was almost fun but The driving was stupid boring But Grandma couldn’t drive and we Landed home and hours felt like days Days felt like weeks Months were years My grandma was from Germany landed in Scranton She didn’t have an accent but her voice was rough she was short and wide Her temper was short and bare Wore long threadbare dresses and smelled funny She looked ancient in a way I didn’t understand Which is just another way to say scary Her skin was wrinkles her jowls had layers of folds She only cooked stew beef potatoes carrots celery I tried at all times to stay hidden from her I was convinced my parents were not Coming back home I was convinced they were not just Normal parents

Something mysterious laid behind Their disappearance It could not be explained I was beyond sad A state of hopeless and helpless My world was only my bedroom and dining room where I would hide everyday under the dinner table The table cloth just long enough To be safely hidden I went looking for cues to find more information Where are my mom and dad When are they coming back In my searches I found my dad’s Blaupunk short wave raidio It had 6 buttons First two were FM and AM But the other four were labeled SW SW short wave where in between static I could hear sounds I did not understand If I tried hard enough I could turn the mobs And move the antenna enough to make out voices People mostly men talking All in different languages or if English in different accents Or words that were obviously code I had discovered access to mom and dad’s hidden world Secret lives even if I didn’t understand I could listen for information For the endless hours The whereabouts of my lost parents In my searching for clues I found something Unexplainable Something magical

At the top of my mom’s secretary desk They was a hidden in a small secret drawer I had to use a chair to get on the desk part Use other drawers like ladder steps To reach a tiny door with a drawer I found a purple velvet pouch A metal box with pink and turquoise jewels inside There was a lock on the box but after days Of searching I found a tiny key in a drawer My mom kept her pens and letter openers (Which I also knew were actually weapons ) By this time I was sure my parents were not the Reverend Dr Washer and his lovely wife Dawn O’Brien Washer But truly secret agents on a life threatening Dangerous top secret mission I had watched Man from Uncle with my dad I knew about these things I was I also had super powers to fight evil I knew my parents were in trouble But I didn’t understand the technology Of how to use the SW buttons But when I found the hidden box Everything changed I went to my hiding place under the table I slowly opened the box There were two decks of cards One turquoise and one a deep purple An intricate exotic pattern was printed In solid gold ink against the deep color The edges of the cards were also gold Which made them look like solid gold bars

Even now they’re beauty has never been matched These were obviously a treasure These were obviously the reason they were gone The cards had a magnetic force They were so slippery that they actually Floated off the wooden floor I began to use the cards as an instruction guide Tune into the different stations I developed a technique I knew then that I was here to help save their lives My parents had to find their way home The floating cards had emblems and numbers Hearts, diamonds, clover and a shovel I began to realized that by using The shapes and numbers With the buttons and the dials I could find different countries Different cities Different languages Different citizens Different lives Different time zones Different realities I worked diligently turning nobs Dialing in the different frequencies It was a very scary and difficult job Each button represented a heart or shovel and so on Each number a station And underneath it all I was certain they were dead But I would never give up

2. I see this small boy, me hiding from his Grandma Trying to find his assumed dead parents Who had left him With a scary human Desperate to create some kind of technology To cut through a vast and infinite landscape To try to resurrect his mom and dad The faith of a young boy to spend hours in hiding Turning dials And looking for portals A way to see reality further and more clearly Using magic cards And some kind of time transport To find them.

They of course were fine and I was so glad To see them But this beginning of aloneness I am finding Still haunts me Sometimes I feel as if I’ve never left the hiding place Under that family dining room table

3.

A few weeks before Dad died I reminded him of this three month Pan Am around the world vacation Where my parents left me alone My short wide wrinkled accent foreboding Grand ma For three months How desperate I was to get them home Using his Blaupunkt radio Those 4 SW buttons And a deck of magical Moroccan gold leaf cards He laughed full heartedly He had hard short term memory dementia by then But nostalgic memories still delighted him Even painful ones or at least my painful ones If we took that trip now he said We’d be thrown in jail for child abuse I had to laugh he was after all trying to be charming We were watching TV He and mom were always watching TV Mom had died a few months earlier Sometimes he’d ask where she was She’s gone I’d say she’s passed on you know that A trailer came on for a movie with a VW van A back drop of an Alaskan mountain range Into The Wild flashed the title I saw that movie he said Really I said not believing him not really his kind of movie I was thinking But then he surprised me

That movie was way too sad for me to watch Yah really I say dad is eating berries some fall in his lap he doesn’t notice So sad but it really reminds me of when you came home from your trip to Mexico They wheeled you off the plane in a wheelchair You were so skinny We took you straight to the hospital They didn’t know what was wrong I really thought you were going to die I was going to die? I asked shocked dad it might have been traumatic I never thought I was going to die You were in the hospital for a long time You couldn’t walk you had kind of arthritis Yeah my knee was a mess Doctor said my spine would fuse up I’d be a hunchback one leg would grow shorter But no one mentioned death to me I laughed Well now you know he said not laughing

4. So you should know I’m writing this poem If you could call it this a poem On my iPhone one finger at a time Not very Jack keroackian But I like the one letter at a time approach There’s a fire in the fireplace Jenny and I are in Elk New Years Eve is in two days It rained all day Jenny never got out of her PJs And bathrobe I got her for Christmas A perfect day she says I went out right as it began to rain I prepped a pork belly with some red spicy dry rub put that with some potatoes in the oven 500 for 15 minutes then down to 275 and left I forage for mushrooms here I’m only looking for one Hedgehogs they’re a favorite And I know a spot There are not a lot of people who walk these woods A year can change things and a fallen tree Lush new growth growing in speed with coastal fog And El Niño winters The old road cut used for hauling out lumber Is overgrown in places as if it never existed Hedgehogs and Bolettes grow in conifer duff Chanterelles in the coastal live oak The rain isn’t bothersome under the conifer I have to wear a hood to keep the rain off my neck My knee is wobbly and I walk slow It is difficult not to trip Carefully with intention not just for the hedgehogs But also this knee of mine is a mystery Knee replacement western medicine at its best They don’t tell you it is severe trauma Amputate the leg spread the tendons and muscles

Attach an implant and glue you back together Five months in I go in for my six week check up My knee has been abnormally swollen Scar tissue is dried blood and it’s numb and ugly He looks at my knee and says we have a problem I had walked in feeling good We’re going to Taos New Mexico in a few days Your knee cap has slid off That’s not good It has to be fixed you can’t heal like this poem not finished a Work in Progress