Poetry/Prose

You Would Have Been Lions

photo credit: mine

photo credit: mine


Cubs

What can I say?

When I can’t lick you

I know

You would have been lions

My mind is part of nature herself

All twisted and dressed

In cement

And male ambition

My mind is part of that nature too

And it got made up

Still, I want to lick you

Cubs

Both of you

You are still here

You would have been here

You will be here

And yet

You would have been lions

Cubs

Everywhere

Every moment

Every chance

I think of you

You are still here

You would have been here

You will be here

And when you are

I will never let you out of my life

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Poetry/Prose, Yoga & Spiritual

Mr. Mister

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Photo/art credit–Desicomments.com

When I first became an expat I said:

Everything has changed, but I am the same

Days passed into months, months into years

Conversations into contentment into disillusionment into strategy into deeper surrender

Again and again, a drum, guaranteed

Same blood through the same heart, beating

Keeping time when I forget my watch, or throw it in the toilet

Different faces, different cultures, different priorities, luring me through a looking glass

To be born into a world

Where the masks all drop and love is always mine

Hands in pockets, eyes to the moon, now reflecting

Will I see you again?

Like I did the first time, when you were someone different?

More than anyone else?

Detachment–hundreds of feet in the sky, where your can see, so many things

Round and round, that race … like gnats in a jar

Looking at each other–seeing themselves

Was I doing that?

I wonder what scorpions eat …

Everything is the same

But I have changed

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Poetry/Prose, Yoga & Spiritual

See

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There is a sadness in true love. A sadness I have come to depend on, inspired by separation. The closer we get, the more we realize we are somehow apart, and yet we strive all our lives to overcome this.

The meantimes, the space, fills with sadness and longing. Why are these feelings like bastard children? To me, they are at the table, feasting on my adoration and, in turn, feeding my dreams, my art, my imagination with all of their truths. Sadness reminds me we are born into duality. Longing reminds me have the capacity to see beyond this–into spirit–through the eyes of the soul.

Our unity.

We grasp for each other. But there aren’t enough kisses. There aren’t enough words. There aren’t enough tender touches. Silent moments. Shared breaths. There aren’t enough poems or paintings; songs, plays or films. There never will be. There never should be.

Look into my eyes. Stay. See. Now. Only now. There is enough of everything.

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Yoga & Spiritual

Devotion (Everyone’s Magic Power)

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Was just talking with a dancer the other night, and we discussed how interesting it is that people get starstruck about what we do.

We talked about how we’ve gotten caught in a cycle of being used or using this. Suddenly an onlooker wants to get to know us better, really bad. But to evolve past this point (rather than try to parry the person off or, worse yet, engage them for utilitarian reasons), I have grown to realize that it’s important to deflect that person’s ambition so that it points toward their own life.

It’s only natural that people would think “wow, how do they do that?” But I’m here to say that such a question, in my mind, is quite mislead.

The real question rather is “what would it take to do that?”

It’s the same with parents of healthy, happy kids. I don’t have kids but when I see these parents with their kids I think “what would it take to do that?”

This question represents a powerful shift from wonder to action planning. And if you don’t want to do exactly what is before your eyes, you can at least imagine how far you’d go with your own pursuits if you chose. None of us are more endowed with magic powers than others.

When you shift the question, you acknowledge that you could do it too, given that you apply what it takes to do it.

In the case of advanced yoga, dance, being a parent, knowing a second or third language, the key to doing any of these things is devotion.

The moments you catch someone in these moves, poses, or interactions with their healthy, happy kids, it all looks kind of easy and straightforward. But when you try it, you see it is not. You’d never be dropped into any of this, however. It’s a gradual progression to get to it. Some days, some practices, some performances are better than others. The point is that you consistently give what it takes.

Magic is the product of devotion, it’s that simple. And we, my friends, are magic if we so choose.

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