Rabbit Room day thirteen: Haibun

dearly beloved we are gathered here today to celebrate the miracle of belonging and the grace of disagreement passionate raised voices and the tension in our bodies as we find the edges of what we believe stretches the skin of questions we hold near and dear to us or carry in our pockets full of faith or doubt where we place our hands inside the wounds of another and hold the fear of it in our mouths and swallow it down until we are full and can wait no longer for the new beginning forced into being through pain and the hope of a secret remaining a secret and forgiveness a cloak that covers all things day or night until tomorrow is a promise and not a dream
 

here is my silence

before the celebration

i will wait for you

Rabbit Room day twelve: Question

Where do we come from? What are we? Where are we going? – Paul Gauguin
 
i always wondered
where you’d end up.
where your passions
would lead you.
astray or whatever.
it’s been seven years
since i last saw you.
not much has changed.
am i still the same?
maybe? are you?
i think not – you’ve changed
your hair, the way you dress,
how you carry yourself.
will our paths ever cross?
they never have.
we travel in different circles
but could circle back easily
enough. there could be
conversations. or silence.
we don’t have to discuss
the past. it’s the past.
just keep moving.

Rabbit Room day eleven: Together

no one knows how it began. the
way they move is a slow song
that lifts, twists and ascends
to heaven; the soft sounds to
murky depths, and it’s O God,
Jesus and holy, holy, holy. who
else knows this joy that wipes
away silence? so name it: his
hope, the lover, fear, her eyes.

 
*
 
so much depends, or doesn’t,
upon the moment. the seraphim, winged, with 

a red wheel, and a thousand eyes; the family
barrow filled with myth’s bones, your history
 
glazed with rain; a mystery hidden, then unearthed by
water, softly, then a storm, then a flood, a great wave
 
beside the white waters – all marked by a feast: roasted
chickens and other meats, seasonal vegetables, bread, wine. 

Rabbit Room day ten: Authentic

just be authentic
your “authentic self”
find your authentic voice
 
let the poem be proof
frame the evidence
with words
 
they will issue
a certificate of authenticity
if you keep at it
 
keep chipping away at meaning
digging into origins
facts and not facts
 
here in the poem
the poet exercises authority
imposes order on the world
 
imposes order on words
that just keep wriggling
a hook in the lip
 
the question is
whether this poem can be trusted
but then is anything ever true?
 
we tell lies
to tell the truth
write them down as proof

Rabbit Room day nine: Conversation

we talk so much
but i want to get to the bone of things.
let’s walk it back

back to the place one lives
or dwells. then dwell richly.
attend to how you conduct yourself
in this world of words or the next

make each word monastic,
singular. then house them together

give them purpose in order
to break a silence

to abide. to frequent.
to twist and bend in the company
of friends. like dance.

and so which direction
do we turn? and how will 

our words cause us to bend?