Like Sunlight, Like Fog

I’m often told I’m confident
(like the march of blazing sun
across the hills of night
awakening each day)

I’m told I look like rushing waves
that roll in from the sea
and pounce upon the sand
in joyful swelling sounds

This makes me laugh inside my heart
because I’m more like fog
that silent moves unsure
which way it wants to go

But still committed to the march
inexorable and slow
to be true to myself
in soft embrace sold out

to be completely there
and wrapped around all things
I cherish in the hug
of insubstantial presence

there, and yet untouched.tumblr_ntubpx3qIm1qm86t3o1_1280

The Easy Walk-Away

It’s getting so old, so tired,
and it acts so new, so hep
so revolutionary…

It’s mere cold-love
all-dolled up in
cherry chapstik
and cheap mascara.

Nowadays it masquerades
as a mantra, this year’s model
on last year’s red carpet walk
while the fawning gather
and swoon…

while cold love kisses hearts
with curses, vows, orders
to walk away quick at the first sign
of imperfection or humanity.

Well, I like the trees that twist in the moonlight
and scrabble hard on the stones
and grab rocks, not to throw
but to grind into dirt
and eat from!

Joshua, Bristle Cone, Pinyon,
Mesquite, Juniper…

yeah, I’ll take them anyday,
thorns, stingy stubbornness
and faithful all day long
for centuries…

ain’t no walk-away in them
for sure…
ain’t no easy walk-way,
and my kind of people
those bristly-ass trees of
gnarled stubborn stick-to-it.

Big Mamas and lil mama
with a call of wake up
the moon is up
and canyon calling clear

in the night,
away from the easy walk-away
and into the long present
Today

What I Wish Every Person Knew

…this would transform the world.

It is the hardest thing for me…ever…to not hear from loved ones, and then get a dashed off note with the word “sorry” (not even “I am sorry”), and a line of sandwich filler, and a conclusion of “love you” (writing “I love you” takes too long).

Saving time and all…for what?  Where is all that time saved?  In a bank somewhere drawing interest?

No…it is spent…everyday.

Every.  Last.  Red.  Cent.  Second.

Ticks and tricks…tickles and trickles thru your will and then your heart…

…and finally your fingers to lay there at your feet as the record of what you did and what you did not do.

Charissa is regularly labeled wordy…of generating too much content…of putting too much out there to be dealt with or responded to…

but I guess that’s just how I roll…cus time.  Fading.  Flowing…flying away and done too soon. And I want to give everything I have to give…especially my time.

Do Justice.  Love Mercy.  Walk Humbly