Friday, March 11, 2011


Your grief for what you've lost holds a mirror
up to where you're bravely working.

Expecting the worst, you look and instead,
here's the joyful face you've been wanting to see.

Your hand opens and closes and opens and closes.
If it were always a fist or always stretched open,
you would be paralyzed.

Your deepest presence is in every small contracting and expand
the two as beautifully balanced and coordinated
as birdwings.

my dad died on February 4th. I meditated and read Rumi all night. It was very helpful. I'll be back later with more but that is it for now. I miss him.