of aloha

how love

and spirit

how magic feels


like a mountain

like time

meeting love

and that feeling of freeness


full of spirit

rising like mountain peaks

slowing time’s pace

to the expansiveness of dreams


of vision

vast like the ocean

and how nature soothes

with a familiar call


the edge

i’m trying to choose between depression and inspiration

i’m at the edge of restrained anger

hot eyes that quiver

i slow my breath

i see how little i need

hours go by and i’m numb

i go though the motions

until i realize that i am dizzy

i take steps that waiver

i try to focus 

i look for joy

i still haven’t really breathed

it’s been hours

it’s been days now

and i stare

what is happening lately?

i don’t know

but i am on the edge between sliding down a slope

say weeee!

and taking action once more

to be inspired

you won’t take away my hope

space to pause

catch my breath and look out into the void

and i forget where i am for a second

but it’s the kind of flash 

that happens in an instant

in a lifetime

staring back into nothing

blink of an eye 

opening to the world

in the seat of the unknown

in liminal space 

and liminal time

until i take another step and another

thankful for the pause 

and the memory of forgetting

and the movement brings me forward

a heartbeat

what does it matter hot and cold?

cool breeze on an evening

or warm sunny bench at midday

what’s it like to be in between those worlds?

one foot on each place

over the boundary on the edge of reality

how does it feel to be without words?

the deepness

the richness 

of experience touched with grace

to be within change

to feel the rise and fall of water and keep as steady as possible

to strive and to reach

and to laugh because it happens

because laughter keeps on sparkling

because water has moments of twinkling light

because the fear is something to work with 

because there are things you already know

because wonder is the photographic memory of each breath

because those that love draw close

because laughter is spirit

and there are moments 

when the song of the world is 

infinitely beautiful 

how the forest breathed

Felt good to be back in the forest, watching the trees breathe. Watching wind make the edges of leaves flutter. Watching the sky. Clouds passing overhead. Fuzzy and thin. Thick and looking like you could reach out and touch your hand. Run it against smoothness. Like a wave of your hand would make rain form from cloud condensation.

It was a still day other than the soft winds. Animals, birds, plants were uncommonly quiet. So quiet it felt like you could hear the smallest thing. Maybe roots stretching out. Maybe a flower bud opening. Maybe the footstep of a bee. You could hear yourself blink as you closed your ears. And everything inside was quiet.

Ground was soft and sank underfoot. It was cool, damp, but in places of sunlight, felt so warm, like it was part of your own body. It felt good to stand on. It had a texture. Crumbly and at the same time felt bouyant, squishy. You could bounce off of it into the air. Except that each step sank to a deeply defined footstep. they etched their way across the forest. Like a beautiful sculpture. Artisticly weaving their a path through sacred spots that were so tiny few stopped to notice. Each little hidden spot was special and each gave a gift along the way. 

The forest was feeling very simple that day. It was unassuming and within that was something that felt very strong, but witnessing it was also very beautiful.