Manikhorlo – Tibetan water-spun prayer wheels
Here’s a freestyle poem I wrote in China seven years ago after spending a couple months living with a family in a Tibetan village. Then, while spending another couple months in Colombia a year later, I translated the poem into Spanish. I’m going to repost it today for Paul’s prompt at the Pub asking us about our libations of choice. Come join in! My choice of drink is that which comes directly from the skies.
Word to the people of the world
It’s in the water, as a loving Father
Or a bodhisattva comes to us
From the skies, formed of his designs,
By gravity of grace, here to remind
Unblind, and hydrate all that has dried
Into a reality we face: Read More
Photography by Armelle Touzeau
Where do I put this sequin when the sequence
Falls like notes from the cellar door?
On my knees searching on the dirty waxed floor
Hands graze gypsy mambo scuff-marks
And dirty martini olive-swords.
Candles glow in distant red bulbs,
My search waxes dim.
How does poetry save the world like God? Read More
Photography by Waseem Niaz
I walk a path, rainclouds retreat to the east. I come to a village tucked in a basin, earthen and stone dwellings line the path, but the sunlight illuminates people outside them, on their knees with hands cupped, raised up. Beggars, desiring nothing more than bread or coin? Read More
In nature’s season of pomp and fanfares
Her swollen creeks and answered prayers
Rejoicing in all of love’s fed fountain
The warming ices cascade down the mountain
Singing over every pebble they pass Read More
[This is a continuation from Deep I]
Poverty and sorrow my allocation
I became a proverb unto the nation
Adorned in sackcloth, I am set afar off
From those who care not for salvation
But you know I am neither deaf nor dumb
Having been my trust and all life’s sum
Forsake me not, give strength to this lot,
Your power to everyone that is to come Read More
This creation is what C.S. Lewis meant with the new Christian: The Atman. The quiet yet radiant, the contemplative yet lively. The paradox. The corporeal enigma. The truth. Read More
Painting by Julie Jilek
‘Twas your wrath, O Lord, your fiery rebuke
So I heard your voice and my net I forsook
When the dust settled, you spoke your verdict: Read More
Photo by Amaya Engleking
Just out of the shower, baby in bed, husband putting toddler to sleep; I look down the hall to see the front room awash in that lemon-zest glow that is common of the dawn, but a prized gift for bedtime. Still seeing a light rain to the west where the sun is ready to slip behind the mountains, without hesitating I grab the camera and bolt out the kitchen door, sure there will be a heaven-sent rainbow in this reminding light. Read More
Photo: Joan Fontcuberta
The mind fragile; he crosses an ocean and all disintegrates into order.
Into her arms he goes; rip, decision, spill. Freeing the border.
The old line awakens into dance, A New One! The rhythm spins.
The beat of every blue shade. Simple: A new wor(l)d begins. Read More
In this season of festivals and fairs
Swollen creeks and answered prayers
Toast the sparkling wine and pass the cake
We are saved for his mercy’s sake
We are here as his love’s fed fountain
As the warming ices cascade down the mountain
Rejoicing over every pebble they pass
Listen, can you hear their gushing laughs? Read More