*
*
ash and bone
you remain
on wind alone
a laugh, a name
a hollow place
strewn by sea
your face,
your face
*
bone and ash
heart that lingers
tears, a moan
this heavy peace
sifts through fingers
circle of dust
ring of bone
Cosmic Crumbs
Dark
*
*
In the hostess’s bedroom
they are too close
in the shadows
*
She doesn’t want to
see them too close
then she’ll have to know
*
She was looking for the bathroom
They are murmuring
leaning too close
They hold hands
They see her
*
She slinks away
as if she is the guilty one
The Much of It
*
*
Barrels the senses
Bewilders the eyes
Figures of clay, fabric, metal
Blue ceramic dog
Mechanical pecking chicken
Gray mouse in a red jacket
Ugandan woman under an umbrella
*
Containers, bags, boxes of
Doll body parts
Cloth from Thailand
Buttons in tins
Beads from ancient Morocco,
Nigeria, India, Mexico
Tinkle and rattle like mini maracas
*
Stacks of mysterious papers
Not to be moved
A secret filing system
Shelves packed with books,
Her travel journals
And the walls—a museum
Of prints and paintings
The strawberry picking migrants
In their straw hats
Tree of life tapestry
Embroidered gold birds
*
She bought what charmed her,
traded her art for collections of
Intricate buttons, filigree silver
Venetian glass, mother of pearl
She tried to feed
the dark hunger
that vacuum of terror
near her heart
*
One more clay rabbit
One more cloisonné pendant
How do you fill a space
the exact shape of God?
She Space
*
*
With her, I don’t have to talk.
She doesn’t mind if I
curl up on her couch
with my notebook and pen
She doesn’t ask what I’ve written
She reads a book about a poet
I’ve never heard of.
She makes her Earl Grey tea in
a green polka dot cup
and rooibos tea for me
in a cup that says
I quilt so I don’t kill someone
Her cat dives into my backpack
We laugh at the same time
I email her the website
of our former lover’s
dance video.
Wow, amazing, she says.
For years
we’ve lifted each other up
through divorces
hot flashes, secret longings
We’ve shared clothes and craziness,
She’s honored my true self,
as I have hers.
Kavvanot: Meditations
*
*
Tradition should have a vote, not a veto,
say the Reconstructionist Jews.
My vote goes for the third eye
Let the enigmas be unveiled
*
In the 1830s, tradition did have a veto
that sent the mystical teachings
into hiding.
Exoteric, rational thought is all very well,
but teach me the mystery, hidden magic
*
Kabbalah kept its secrets for decades,
even from Jews themselves.
Oh, my young loss,
the longing for light, peace, infinity
*
The deep way, what is received,
handed down orally,
rebbe to student.
I would kneel at your feet, blessed teacher,
where are you?
*
It found a haven from the Inquisition
in Safed, then Palestine.
Above dusty streets, the hills echoed
with holy words
*
Kabbalah’s view is a cosmology,
of four worlds,
spirit, mind, heart, body.
Spirit flame burns, mind chatters,
Heart stretches, body dissolves
*
Through prayer,
with inward intention,
one rises from world to world,
to reach the goal:
nearness to God.
*
Nothing is outside of God.
*
Had these teachings
been made known to me
fifty years ago
who knows
what sort of Jewish mystic
I might have become?
from The Jew in the Lotus, by Roger Kamenetz
Meditation
*
*
I am the ocean
You are the fish
Your forms
of sequined gauze,
flash and fade in
pearl blue sea
*
I am the silence
You are the jet,
the cricket, the siren
sounds observed
become as waves
*
I am the prana*
You are the exhale
lifelong and golden
morning stars flicker out
at daybreak
*prana=life force
Passing Through
*
*
Passing through, passing through
Sometimes happy, sometimes blue
Glad that I ran into you
Tell the people that I’m only passing through. —Woody Guthrie
*
He clasped her left arm
with his right hand
fed her nourishing broth
Greek yogurt, lasagna he made
in her kitchen
*
The Opponent drained her appetite
gripped her right arm
with steady strength
and a beady eye
pulled her into
dusty desert dream
on dry scaly feet
*
He tightened his fingers
though her arm bruised violet patches
brought her news and music
cucumber and Coke
whatever she fancied
her arm slid away
as if slathered in Vaseline
*
The Opponent sneered,
I always win
pointed to the faint line in the dust
she’s almost on my side now
Years pull with me, and weariness,
and sour dependence.
*
He tried everything they said
—protein bars, half-pound weights, smoothies–
He couldn’t hold her
not when when she
was letting go
Room 200
*
*
Light comes through hospital curtains
rise from a deep dream, certain
the sister came with two kids
open lids admitting reality
helpless as a hatched chick
open mouth for yogurt, or refuse
open mouth for pills, or not
sleep is better than awareness
limbs that don’t work
scummy teeth, ragged nails
mind drifts into dream-memories
Greece, the port at Skyros
London, Nottinghill market
Sweden, Susanna’s sunflowers
Light fades into an untouchable dark
of uncountable days
waiting for a conclusion
Zero – Sum
*
*
They buried the swimming pool
filled it with dirt, spread grass seed
next summer, a lawn
only a bit of fence and a pole
where once sparkled the water
of the biggest pool in Missouri
*
They buried the swimming pool
the whites dug their own
at social clubs, in backyards
she heard their kids splashing
playing Marco Polo
*
she had one day in the big water
one day of droplets beaded on her braids
one day with Marietta and Louise
in their new swimsuits,
laughing when Louise turned from white to pink
*
she heard the shouts
as her brother pulled her out
go home quick,
pushed her and Marietta over the fence
no black skin in blue water
They buried the swimming pool
Another Day
*
*
If speaking is belonging,
he belongs to silence
silence makes nests here,
on top of the china cabinet,
in serving bowls,
under the blanket chest
his chest rumbles without words
sentences begun drift into silence
words melt away like candle wax
consonants light his eyes
but silence owns him now
Tangled Magic 