Den of My Heart

5EC61800-81B0-48CA-90C0-031092F4267FWelcome to my den within
The fire here is bright and warm

All double-heartedness dissolves
A throbbing vital peace resolved

The fire now is strong and steady
Come inside when you are ready

Enter when you’re full of joy
Or when you’re sad or tired
Even with your worries, welcome
You’ll find comfort by the fire

Lay your head in my lap when
All the troubled storms roll in

You’ll find rest by being heard
I’ll soothe you with the best of words
Caress you with my mighty paws
Healing with a sacred pause

We’ll tell tales ‘round flickering flames
singing songs and playing games

For no one else has come this far
into the holy den of my heart

The deepest nook is yours inside
To dream and play or even hide

Beyond the boulder, past the light
Past the last stone stalactites
A silent and still pool abides
Mirroring your moon-heart with delight

And though I am yet a wild bear
Mine is no mere wintry lair
I want to share my cave with you
Begin to build a life anew

So if you crave the other seasons
No need of knocks or even keys—I
Invite you in my deeply den
to craft a cozy home within


No Velvet-Covered Love/No Casual Clouds

raincloudI don’t want no velvet-covered love

No cautious clouds
casually passing through each other
untouched and unknown

No uncorrupted alto-cummulus

I want to form extravagant shapes
like gremlins jumping out of the closet
unicorns hammering drywall
howler monkeys stealing guavas
and hurling them down the valley

I want to become a ferocious thunderstorm together
that feeds the earth
and sends bolts down to split trees

Zeus himself will take cover

No tepid love, no gentle creek—
I want a flood over hidden rough rocks
in a deep and crooked arroyo
and cuts canyons so deep
there is no way out
but by digging to China
or drowning

I want our calves to be as strong as our hearts
making the path by walking

Bring a machete, a beating heart, and two strong legs

I hear the rhythm on the horizon:
deep beats, the pulse of thunder

Let’s dance like idiots
and run through a field of fire
play hopscotch on Mars

Then exhausted,
let’s siesta in the sun
beside an alpine lake
dig our feet and souls in the mud
then string a hammock between horizons
and get to know one another

Show me what’s under that boulder
show me where you got bit,
the shadow where no light got lit
take that stone fruit that’s all pit
and throw it down the mountain

Leave me dizzy, a milky way spinning
like a drunk across the cosmos

Then, like cosmic dust, settle
and compose ourselves for the next act

When I Was a Toad

When I was a toad
And you were a frog
We jumped in the water
We chased through the fog

When you were the rose
And I was a bee
You slowly opened up to me

When you were a tree
And I was the soil
We grew together
Solid and loyal

When you were a girl
And I was a bear
We met in the mountains
Made love in my lair

When you were a woman
And I was a man
We found a sweet spot
Playful and grand

Without the Journeyed Dark

5D0A4DED-FEF5-43BC-A607-8A75882FFE30I. Ripe For Descent

All the world long has descent on its mind
and me with it:
the freckled hands of winter
and fickle lure of love pull me down
with the western star.

Who am I to argue
when the trajectory has gravity on its side?

II. Without The Journeyed Dark

There never was a sunrise
without the journeyed dark.

There never was a spring
without the starried night.

There never was a buried treasure
without the sunken ship.

There never was a deepest love
without the sink or swim.

III. I’m of a Pace With the World Now

Who am I not to follow the wind
and the sun
the leaves and the season’s decadent fragrance
into the dark?

It’s a different kind of allure
at the bottom of things
inside out and beautiful.

Decay is a gift from the soul of the world
and I will not be caught
being a full-time harvester
no ever-ascender.

The soil needs rest, washed with winter rains
from the dark halls of my heart

IV. These are her depths now, villain!

There was a time when light,
any light,
was a buoy or wonderful distraction.

Now it is an atrocity, a thieving beast
robbing me of darkness.

These are her depths now, villain, I scream, at the sun.

Have you no thought to buried treasures?

Are you one of the light-brigade,
ever casting gold through your fingers?

Today, with the wind’s decree
and the consent of the moon
I hook myself willingly, even eagerly
to the sacred anchor.

To the Sun-Addicts, I say:
I now follow the moon,
stalking in the territory of the night songs
meeting all the beasts born of the soil.

IV. Dark Mirrors

Yes, the bottom of the sea can be cruel.

But it is not my first labyrinth
nor my last.

A song echoes “I know my powers” from the cavernous
sky below.

Just the right amount of forgetfulness
and remembering fills the chambers.

Then, the darkest thing grabs me.

V: The End of the Descent

The end of the descent is self-embrace.

The bottom of the well is the face of love
looking back at me.

It catapults me to the inside of a cherry blossom
just this side of spring.



Befriending the Dark #10: Poem-share for sinking into the season & Befriending the dark, slowness, silence, & shadows. (This is the final section of the poem ‘Sip the Season Darkly’)

Within the cave something pulses,
it’s why we go there.

We hear it even now—
that which deepest dark cannot smother,
winter’s hands cannot touch
shadows stalking have no purchase.

Tender tendrils of our very own vine,
bearing the wine of our heart
like embers of eternal vernal.

A spark electric, A light immune
to season’s scorn—
a Flame Everlasting.

A Remembering.


Some secret vial of our heart’s nectar
distilled for this very hour
to sip the season brightly

And the sun too misses his mistress
and cannot too long stay away
he was meant for this: to shine

To not share his love is a wounding.

So in that darkest hour
he knocks on the nearest horizon
and announces The Return:

“Dear Love, I’m Here.”

Which is exactly what we find
written on the walls of our cave

as we witness the melting dawn
heralding The Promise.

All frozen walls fall
before the mighty glow
we look around and see
with new eyes:
first breath after coma

and though it’s just a whisper now
It’s enough to start it all again
and again…again….again…

Wild Rose Hips

AC79C7CD-E53C-4E71-B7DC-826BB003F415I want to say it’s her wild hips
how they move with the slightest direction
how they hold her flower up—
But it’s really how she tastes the world
how she touches it at every opportunity
how she stops to smell
its everything.

Yes, I could talk about her beauty
how she strikes red and warm
against cold blue winter skies…
but really it’s the way she moves
with the wild wind

Yet she isn’t merely floating,
she has feet on the ground,
Vulnerable and bare.

Oh she has her thorns,
trust me,
you can’t have one without the other
and bit me real good—
the blood’s still flowing.

But how it was worth it,
and I give my blood back to her
as an offering—
for I, too, am in the world
and want to taste its everything.