I Live In The Woods

I live in the woods
In a little mud hut
That I built with my hands
By a fast flowing stream,
Whose water I drink,
Whose music I love.

I live in the woods
In a little mud hut
With a warm glowing hearth
Where fire spirits play,
Where fire spirits dance,
Sharing their light and their heat.

I live in the woods
In a little mud hut
Amongst mossy old rocks
On the side of a mountain,
On whose summit an angel
Spreads her great wings.

I live in the woods
In a little mud hut,
There are trees all around here
In every direction,
A sky full of branches
Danced by the wind.

The smoke from my hearth,
The prayers from my heart,
The songs that I sing,
The joy that fills me,
All mingle with the pulse of life
In the woods where I live.

Holy Mountain

With each step
Onto the holy mountain
I am slain.

By each fresh encounter
With a reality that overwhelms
My precious,
Worthless
Worldview, I am broken.

Broken, broken again
By the love
Of which the mountain is made.

Torn
Skin from skin
By the claws of the eagle
Who knows
It’s impossible
To step
Without carrying your whole world with you
Unless that step
Is a death
And a transformation.

Day

Day!

Like honey from a jar,
Each moment adhering to the next
In primal resonance,
Light flows into me
Towards the root of things.

I sometimes open deep enough
To breathe down to my toes,
Or let the singing stream
Remember me to the sea.

I sometimes clothe the mountain of my mind
In thunder
Loud enough to loosen rock
From rock,
And send them falling
Down through the abyss.

I sometimes sit with the dying embers
As one by one they crumble and fade,
Pursuing them into the blackening darkness
Where name cannot follow.

From the quiet root of things
The day is born
And, circling like the sun,
Returns:
A lover to his lover’s arms

Where time and light dissolve
Like honey into wine
Or breath into bone.

If I open,
Light flows into me
Returning
To its home.