Confession #2

I need to sing.
That is how I'm built.
I've sung since I was little
And that was a long time ago.

I need to sing.
When I don't do it intentionally
My soul will sing to me.
My ears will latch on to any song
And I will sing it back to myself
Until the next song comes along.

I need to sing,
But as I say so often,
I hate my voice.
My voice is counter to who I am.
My voice sings in a way that
     No longer sounds like me,
     No longer communicates my soul
     But is what the voice that I have can do.

I need to sing,
So I sing in other ways.
I sing through my computer keyboard.
I sing by smiling and walking a little faster
In the morning down the street
To the bus stop.
I sing by telling my sweetie
That I love her
Over and over
Every five minutes
To the point where I'm annoying.

I need to sing, so
I sing ridiculous songs,
     Letting the humor shine my light,
     The irony itself twisting my pain
     Into a lopsided smile.

I need to sing
Because there's too much
That can't be expressed in any other way.

I need to sing
Because I know that the universe resonates
To the sound of a singing voice.

I need to sing
Because I also need to dance
With you
And singing as you dance
Is the best music.

Bricks

Note: This was written yesterday.

The bricks you amble down
Take the message of your shoes
Facing up but carrying
The passage that you're making
A short distance now
But continued and continuing.

If your mantle ever
Billows out around you
As you saunter from here
To there, and in the shadows
Beneath that cloak I see
A little bit of secret truth

Of course I will wonder
As I tread different bricks
On my own walk.

I see that your bricks
Are like the ones beneath me
And my own black mantle
Billows, though I try to hold it closed,
Casts light into my own shadows.

I both worry
And hope
That you might see.

Spiritual Diagnosis

In the morning
I get this shot of joy
It lasts for about a half an hour
And then fades.

I know what it is:
It's the light.

I live in a cave.
No windows in my office.
The sun goes down before I go home.
It's only in the mornings that I see the sun.

I need a vista
I need golden light
I talk about sunlight on leaves
And people think it's just something I like.

It really isn't!

Going Out on a Limb Here...

Nobody thrives on abuse
It doesn't make you stronger
Dishing it out is not power
Taking it is not strength

I've made that mistake
Learned that thinking too well
That costs too much
And it keeps costing.

The Buddha sat under a baobab.

What is power to a tree?
The power of a tree, I think, is
     to take in light and
     to make nourishment for itself.

What is strength for a tree?
The strength of a tree is
     to give shade,
     to grow tall and spread out its limbs,
     to give small things a home, and
     to grow fruit.

Great Tunes

I hear birds outside!
There is the sound of hope
On a March morning.

Black snow piled high in my yard
Ice on the sidewalks
Freezing in this house most all of the time

But right outside
On the power lines
I hear a promise.