quote:

S O L S T I C E

Queda.
Aqui,
Conmigo.


I am thinking in Mexican today.
It's hot and the bean plants are just beginning.
They seem to split in two.
A perfectly symmetrical growth pattern, green leaves
like hearts.
Extra water is required.
Hace calor.

I remember the eve of the full moon,

bottled in a red conversation that soaked us both.
An invisible hand adjusts the garden faucet.
Your unabashed tears begin pooling big enough for toe
dangling.
Then more: a rushing.

It's the way things have worked for all time:
Offer the ground your own body rain.

Allow gravity to pour it all over and out
until you are not you crying anymore.
Here comes the spilling, streaming , and waterfalling.
Now, the rapids, the swift current, the sense of a
great wave thickening and gathering momentum.
Bloodied, purifying and unstoppable.

How is it that this salty humanization is the
hydration that sustains, simplifies, and satiates?

Fully incorporated prayer.

Ho, to the sundancer.

Dios mio,
Lalito, with my earth and your water,
we are being re-created.
Despite and because of unpredictable storms,
flurries, tidal shifts,and "ooh!"(said loudly by
nearly everyone walking into the cafe this
afternoon)," The heat."

We are rising like baking bread,
like hands to the warming drumskin,
like devotions towards the heavens,
as it all evaporates daily
into a heartmelting human practice.

A snail leaves a shimmering, mercurial message
with the morning's brightness.
Simultaneously exhausted and rejuvinated,
I track her moist meanderings.
I imagine her small body creating lines and spaces,
her delicate recording of the night's music.
I imagine her back is like a great timepiece,
spiraling whole,
where the end of time is simply a stillpoint, a
beginning,
an expression of life's seasons
celebrating themselves.

Glorious Solstice!