Dropping off the truck at a friend’s who lets us park there when we are staying somewhere that doesn’t have room for two cars, I got in the car with Barbara and said, “Let’s go home,” which is funny because we don’t have one. …

Face on the floor

Alone with my shock

Don’t wish me strength

It’s not force that I need

Sure, help me sit up

Let me cry if I must

But show me love

The profound tenderness of silence

Let me breathe your fierce peace

Crystal clear assurance

Grace under sublime pressure

A caress amid thorns

We sympathize with the humping dog

Forgive the murderous cat

But demand human be human

Or show sufficient shame

How horrid to discover

Repeated animal acts

Unabashed lies from our idols

Our leaders

Paid assistance from confederates

Power having corrupted

All we blinded by outer glory

No single accusation believed

No single crime reckoned

Until by divine wind the wall is tumbled

We see an animal in man-shape

Grotesque characature.

And question our ancestry

Our uprightness on sinking sand

From our little hole

We must rebuild Creation

From our tiny hut

Encompass its width and glory

From our midnight bed

Expand ourselves to its edges

Let go of our boundaries

Blow ourselves up

Reach

A soaring, flying reach

Out everywhere

Become completely everything

And then when it is yours

Pull

Squeeze

Bend creation

Invert it down

Fold it as our wings

Straighten and tuck

Rustle and shake

Preen the universe

Master All and yourself

Alive

Aglow

Ready once again to kick ass

Silly for the soul

For the eyes to cry

Squeeze water

When all is lost

Or when sudden happiness

Breaks open the heart

Leather gloved fingers

Upon the neck

Throttling speech

Why stop the uttering of

The indescribable

Incapacity mirroring

Inner helplessness

Where is my reason to explain

The senselessness of caring

The impossibility of such beauty

Such tenderness existing

That I should have witnessed it

Ever; and never again

This wave is of the ocean

The ocean is of the earth

In its grip

In the curl

The illusion is that the wave is yours

That your involvement with the wave is particular

That this wave turns for you

Is meant for you

The ocean is of the earth

The earth is of the sun

Our tumbling with the wave

The cutting, slashing, joy, and dumping

Is of the world

Is of the sun

We are nowhere

Unless we are everywhere

Into your pain

I wish admittance

Your ache becomes mine

Becomes double

You still suffer

But not alone

Your groping through darkness

Is now accompanied

And you are distracted

By wondering who is this idiot

Blundering through pain beside you

Hail! Dear friend from afar!

Can you hear me? I believe somehow that I can reach you.

My heart burns for news from you, for pictures, weather reports, statements of faith, ideas, sensations from your standpoint there where you live, there where you breathe, where you contemplate the movement of…