Passion

Passion is leaking out

slowly and

I work to stop it from

emptying itself out

completely

because I need to feel and

need to talk and

spin on my wings and

jump and joke and desire to

fill the entire space I am given and

love, love, love until

I'm all scrunched up or

all blown out from

smiling from ear to ear with

the big Yes.

The Sense of Yes,

pervading my emulsion–

the Sense of Yes,

evading all expulsion–

The Sense of Yes, with

its foot in the door and

its eye on the prize,

its pedal to the metal and

its hands on the wheel–

singing the Key,

singing the Key.

Contemplation

I watch the water boil,

Bubbling up, ancient herbs scent the air.

I'm meditating. Looking for signs,

Wanting information, insight as to

What the world will bring.

"Show me" I ask, "what I need to know now."

Then I have an answer, something that i feel,

Contemplating love, and where it is.

Bubbling up. Then I have an answer

In the feeling of love.

Contemplating love and where it is.

Here!

Searchers

Here is poetry. In a space, a place by itself, this lonely poem. This lonely poem, is searching for the words, the words to make some sense in this space.

And here is art, with all excitement and hopefulness. Hanging on the wall, waiting for poem to come along. and make some sense with words in this space.

Waiting for the poetry, this lonely poem to come across this art and recognize his face, because he’s in a place without words, a place by itself, this lonely place.

And here is beauty and hope and love. They are dancing in a circle arm in arm, spinning and laughing. They find the art and they find the poetry and they fill the space so it isn’t lonely and they lift us up with art and poetry to a place that is filled with words and images that is tempered by beauty and hope and love.

They’ve all gone off now… in search of music.