FIELDS-OF-DREAMS_thumb.jpg

a haircut and hazelnut hymn

damp fragrance rises

today

clouds of    hazelnut coffee

settle

slowly

among folds,   crevices

defining tired eyes.

gratitude’s aroma    smiles the mind

as locks of growth

hit the floor   unceremoniously

scuffed through,

scattered,

swept away.

all, yesterday’s glory   gone.

~

freedom’s swish   so delicious

… and richly nutty.

~

Spinners of Spring’s Lost Song

rumbleton tumbledown 10-22-2013 8-34-017

Remember the day we played in the back wood, where Tumbleton Rumbledown spins the seasons?

Remember it, Jules?

Remember how he caught us in there,
in the ‘tween time of things, where spirals meet and flatten?
(so it seems, so it seems).

Remember how he said,
‘this is the place where decisions are made, then formed and re-formed until everything’s one, in agreement.’

 Remember how how we learned to spiral like the Sufis when things did not make any sense, at all…

and how we made sense of the dark, awful nonsense by whirling and twirling from that very day forward, so we could laugh every once in a while?

Yes.

We did that, didn’t we; when we were young…

Remember the bed sheets we stole from the clothesline; how we fashioned them with rope for spiraling among the vines?

Remember how we found laughter every time we let ourselves whirl with Tumbleton?  I found the ‘tween time of things, today, where all the spirals meet and flatten… (or so it seems)… and I turned ‘round and ‘round, spinning like a Sufi… and the sky started spinning to water. I felt so certain, so very certain, that Tumbleton would let me through, too, just to feel your presence.  Maybe he did so, after all, but it’s a trickster’s world with one thing just a little bit of everything else, and it’s always hard knowing up from down.

Did you notice my whirl? Did you catch my smile? Did you spin, too, as I spun?

Jules, I wanted my spin to merge with yours for ever and ever… the way Tumbleton Rumbledown taught us when we were little girls.  I fell awake, though, and came home alone.

I wish we’d not spun away from each other.  I feel so lost without you.

+ Sufism

Spinners of Spring’s Lost Song

rumbleton tumbledown 10-22-2013 8-34-017

Remember the day

we played in the back wood,

where Tumbleton Rumbledown spins the seasons?

Remember it, Jules?

Remember how he caught us in there,

in the ‘tween time of things,

where spirals meet and flatten?

(so it seems, so it seems)

Remember how he said,
‘this is the place where decisions are made, then formed and re-formed until everything’s one, in agreement.’

Remember how how we learned to spiral like the Sufis when things did not make any sense, at all…

and how we made sense of the dark, awful nonsense by whirling and twirling from that very day forward, so we could laugh every once in a while?

Yes.

We did that, didn’t we; when we were young…

 We found laughter every time we let ourselves whirl with Tumbleton.

~

I found the ‘tween time of things, today, where all the spirals meet and flatten…

(or so it seems)

… and I turned ‘round and ‘round, spinning like a Sufi… and the sky started spinning to water. I felt so certain, so very certain, that Tumbleton would let me through, too, just to feel your presence.  Maybe he did so, after all, but it’s a trickster’s world with one thing just a little bit of everything else, and it’s always hard knowing up from down.

Did you notice my whirl?

Did you catch my smile?

Did you spin, too, as I spun?

I wanted my spin to merge with yours for ever and ever… the way Tumbleton Rumbledown taught us when we were little.  I fell awake, though, and came home alone.

I wish we’d not spun away from each other.

I knew such joy with you.

(2011, md)

+ Sufism

arabesque

From the Prow

from the prow

(inhaling sunrise)

exhaling night

breath

sparks

life

in reverberations

i’ve never known.

Here and Now

wasn’t Yet,

Then.