My Rotation

The world moves

as it is

balanced on its own pole

and so it is

with each of us

an axis inside

so unique

I can not move

(I will not)

from your orientation

instead I stand

my own line

firmly drawn

right through my core

(after a lifetime

of moving

from other people’s centers

I had almost forgotten

my own

and what a day lived

really feels like

and what colors

are born

when I watch

the rising of

my own sun).

Two Places

There are two places that I visit

And I have grown to know them

As well as I know this house

That smells of last night’s dinner

And burns today

In the heat of the California sun

The first place that I visit

Is so well-known

Found at the end

Of an old dirt road

Covered in holes

Covered in divots

Made by other people’s runs

The town at the end stands

In yellow smog

Created by years of thought

From all those who have come to visit here

My own breath becomes shallow

My own words become as stilted

As the picket fences dividing the fields

The second place that I visit

Is mine and mine alone

I close my eyes to fly here

I’ve grown to call this place my home

A candle burns in front of me

But becomes forgotten flame

As I sit and feel my whole world here

I become the light as I call the Name

My heart grows ten times larger

It fills with bursting warmth

My breath becomes the wind here

And I become pure Love.