FootprintsintheWind.com

Chaos is our word for
what’s enfolded and unfolding
in front of us
so much we cannot make sense
now
it is all here
we can pick and choose
the rest will enfold again
to unfold another day
another way

:- Doug.

All is returning
to our beginning
the returnal

:- Doug.

Our work: Meet, rip, swirl. By Meeting we rip. By ripping we swirl. By swirling we meet.

:- Doug.

What does this mean in living it out? It means meaning each other and letting ourselves be meant. It means meaning meeting. Meeting means creativity, that is, transformation. The destination, destiny, transformation of persons and redemption of the world needs me and awaits me. I do not decide it, but its tapestry needs my thread.

:- Doug.

Our being, this gossamer, is neither wholly us nor wholly other. It is the between. We bring transformation within our being.

:- Doug.

One on one
Jesus the example
Suggests this difficult path for each:
Meet with our whole being,
Even if the other does not.

:- Doug.

The poet does not intervene, but meets. The Tao’s sage meets with being, not with effort. Being meets being, and in that meeting, people change themselves.

So this is the stance, the meeting, of the poet with the world: to meet being with being, to allow, to be part of the swirl, knowing that G*d needs the life, death and deed of each of us.

:- Doug.

The physicists it seems can no longer define matter. All the swirling particles and nothing in between. This is who we are as humans: nothing in between. Swirling is who we are. So get on with it: get on with the swirling. We were never meant to be nouns, things, static. We are no-things, dynamics rather. Not even verbs, we are relation, pure relation, as if an electron is not an electron without a proton and a neutron. Rather it is the relation one to the other and more, the relation of the relations as they swirl among

:- Doug.

What is left when the jar breaks and the water runs out?
When the cage is opened and the bird flies away?
To the play when the theatre goes dark?

What difference did the jar, the bird-song, the play make?
Almost none if it be one
if it aims to make differences

Will the water remember how it was shaped?
Will the birdsong echo down the millennia?
How many futures will the actors speak to?

What remains after the jar, wing and dialogues?
What remains of the will of potter, cage-builder, play-wright?
Yawn, stretch, greet

:- Doug.

Where do we get the pictures of G*d we carry around in our wallets?

:- Doug.

Let us look and see if that is true, if it is wholly true. Could its direct opposite be true as well?

:- Doug.

It’s a ponderful life!

:- Doug.

Look in yourself
you will see
a desire to improve
This is life speaking:
“I want to unfold:
You are my fingertips.”
Although we quarrel over details
this is the only proof
you will need
that we evolve

:- Doug.

A calling is not a leash
It is an unleashing

:- Doug.

No one knows if others
see green the same way
they do
no man knows what an orgasm
feels like to a woman
nor another man, either
but in that space between us
where we meet and become
a third person together
here we can know
one
mystery

:- Doug.

To say too much is to say nothing.

:- Doug.

Trust people
expect not
we all give birth

:- Doug.

We are not here to
change the world
Instead something larger, more difficult:
We are here to meet and stir
each other
the world
G*d
To love them larger.

:- Doug.

Picture this:
Here is a lock
you
are the key; you
are a lock
I
am the key. How can
two locks be keys in each other?
We each are keys
to most people
we meet
keys to open
keys to start
keys to admit
We
are the keys to
us
loosed upon the world

:- Doug.

In emptiness
All possibility

:- Doug.

Too grey to dig ditches
Too green to lie in a grave
To copper to quit working
So I will contribute red
fire and hoary
questions
to people budding and flowering

:- Doug.

Nastiness in the campaign
cannot lead to
kindness in the legislature.
One candidate says
We do it because it’s effective:
our polls go up,
more people go to the polls,
anger is good.
I wonder as you do
if he will sell himself
for a few votes,
what else will he
sell himself for?
If she can only see
what the other lacks
is she lacking
the imagination we need?
What kind of government
do we deserve
if we elect only
those who become
nastiest?

:- Doug.

Footprints in the Wind^sm # 712

It does not matter if
we become lost
Every one loses
the
way because there is no
one
way The young mother
stumbles, drops her baby
a man and a woman
no longer strangers
hurry to clean up her blood
and get her to her feet
while
she soothes her infant
and recalls
where
she was going and
why
The thread
we see looking back
The thread is of
wholeness
We are
always already home

Please pass it on.

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