LIGHTNING STORM IN FAIRFIELD, IOWA, 1985

Lightning_Bolt

for Eli and Ananda

“Charles, the past must have its say but not its way.” Nana

After supper we sit on concrete steps
where our names are written in colored chalk
to watch lightning shoot sideways across the sky.
Eli is in my lap, my arm over his shoulder.
Ananda leaning on my right side, her hand touching my knee
before the rain began.

Above and around us thunder! Lightning!
Surrounded by so much power, we laugh and sing a song about Jesus
finally come with tongues of fire and trumpets blown!

Now my children are asleep.
I listen to trains blow through Fairfield carrying soybeans and seed corn
to silos in Ottumwa.
Hail scratches at my window panes with the fingernails of children
lost in a town without power and light.

Trees jump out of the dark in left over lightning
streets filling with rain.

.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G573qVRiGuE

TO MY LITTLE DOG, FREDDIE

Freddie and the lights!

Freddie and the lights!

one
We lean against walls together, believing they are solid.
Find ourselves falling through them
find that we are flying!

two
For the little white dog
every smell is a door opening to a room
with ceiling so high
it has its own atmosphere, its own sun and moon.
He enters, following lights through an inner door
into other and other rooms.
I who drink rain water from the hoof print of a white calf
choose to follow.

.
freddie in samadhi

MY DUTY NOW

Shivabalayogi Maharaj 1935-1994

Shivabalayogi Maharaj 1935-1994

In this world
we have to do our best
to keep our core humanity alive.
If we can see light
we must see it.
If we can catch sight of joy, we must see it
point to it.
Yes it is dark. This is undeniable.
Everyone feels that darkness
but not everyone can feel the joy
see the light rising and moving along the tree line.
That is my duty now.
I will do my best not to be fooled
by ideas
my own or any other persons’.
Just to feel, see, taste, touch, if I can, the life itself
what we are.

.

.

GO TO HER

…I brought him to my Mother’s house
to the bedchamber of the one who conceived me.

Song of Soloman 3:4

119-krishna-vstrechaet-gop-kumara

GO TO HER
Leave the flesh waving behind
as you would an acre of maize.
Float out to Her
your voice like a morning glory opening
in the throat
a name forming on your tongue
one thousand syllables of falling water
drawn from our Mother’s well
fed by Her spring
hidden until sung for
in the folds of Her.

.