Emptiness is Listening

bodies wandering in space,
feet searching for earth,
(she supports without effort: take note, dear one!)

hearts aching to speak:

“what to do?
how to be?
Do you hear me??”

No answers needed
when presence breathes.


…a gap in time,
fullness held…

Emptiness is listening.
I am just a decoy for love.

Without Remainder

I sit on this throne
suspended in space and time
with nothing to grasp,
hoisted and held
only by the love that emanates
through everything and everyone
without remainder

a royal beggar they have helped me become

to surrender without remainder
to serve without remainder
to leap forth steadfast without remainder
to die without remainder
to breathe without remainder
to live without remainder

a royal beggar they have helped me become
to love without remainder

The rhythm of two

the rhythm of two
the rhythm of two
where there’s a push
there’s a pull

this rhythm of two
this rhythm of two
this electric blending
of me and you

no bated breath:
two bodies in motion
undulating depth


the pulse of
vanishing, dancing
with the pulse of

eyes of this we,
soft and open,
caresses that see,

just the touch of skin
and these hearts let go
in this recognition
of this rhythm of two
this rhythm of two
this rhythm of us

speechless here with you


reality beyond reality
space within space:
the pulse of the universe
seeks sore hearts
reflecting, reminding
we, the time worn
effigies of love,
can never be fully lost:
we are made of this.
we are made of this
we are made of This.


pray until you no longer await a response
until you lose your voice, but your mouth still trembles
until you’re weak in the knees,
until everyone you see resembles
a familiar face
with no origin
but looking in that same painful place
for the tender scars we can’t forget
trace them all with your ears and prayers
until you forget
what it was you were praying for
in the first place

Are you laughing yet?

dharma has saved me countless times
dharma has murdered me countless times
but listen – none of that matters.
It’s just the play of reality.
listen to the birds singing outside
listen to the cries of grieving mothers
– tap tap tap –
what’s that at the window?
Empty your mind without moving,
what is released?
what is revealed?
Unborn space speaks in tongues
tap tap tapping at the window.
clap your hands!
the past is already gone
no future is clapping back –
just this
clap clap clapping
slap slap slapping
your face:
are you laughing yet?