A Homeless Poem
Busy-busy, but here I am again.
I've been (among 97 other things) preparing
the text of a new collection, scheduled for August
from WordTech's Cherry Grove imprint.
This turns out to be a relatively brief
gathering of 50-some poems, with lots
left out for the sake of unified effect.
Which leaves quite a few pieces shivering,
feeling rejected by the very hand
that made them. So I thought I'd put
one or more out on the Blog now or then,
to make amends.
How come the following choice failed to be
chosen? Well, it's hard out here for a poem.
LEARNING TO SKY
The teacher who would show us how to sky
assumes we've known intricacies of pain,
have tumbled through the razor-vats of woe
respectfully, and slow.
At first this skying master has us slay
rage-monsters, cut the snake-vines of desire,
lead ignorance a way toward skillful means
as tamer of the hunger and the fire.
Such fasting done, the higher arts begin:
to practice laughter at the rage of thought
and sense how borrowed is this shroud our skin,
rapt tourists of the Emptiness we're in
where only loss of lust releases love.
Gone groundless through the bliss we're students of
we leave the formal coffins of the eye,
at last at one with sky, and sky, and sky!