Beyond the world of discovery that music has been for me, there was always the bigger world, the universe of questions about what we’re a part of, how it works, and how to best fit into the larger whole.
My love of words, a fascination with scientific, philosophical, and spiritual inquiry, and a quiet determination to learn how to be a better human (and a happier man) have led me on a path of shaping my experience, breath by breath, into poems.
Here are some of them.
October 9, 2016
We are all
full of shit,
from time to time.
We are all
mean of spirit,
from time to time.
We are all
human,
all the time.
And when we forgive,
and then move on,
we are most human
of all.
October 9, 2016
When you are empty,
there is room
for the world
to fill you,
with its richness,
grace, and beauty.
There is no story
to match this fulness,
no thought
that shines
more brightly.
To be nothing
is to be a vessel
for everything.
October 9, 2016
Time
peels away
our certainty.
Nothing
we see as eternal
endures,
and, in the end,
no one we count on
will survive.
There is a flow
of beginning
and ending,
inexorable,
which we may prefer
not to see.
In this stream
of living and dying,
giving and taking,
we are buoyant
and drowning,
exuberant
and afraid.
Carried along
for a while,
we may find
some joy
in this ride,
sweetened,
if we’re able,
by accepting
its end.
October 9, 2016
Against the quiet night,
a flashing light
reminds me,
that somewhere,
there is always
someone suffering.
Though my eyes
may not see them,
may my heart stay open,
tender with this poignant truth,
that there is always
someone deserving
of compassion.
October 9, 2016
Emptiness
is a place to be
without a plan,
without regret,
without boundaries.
It is the silence
beyond “not enough”,
the peace
beyond trying.
It is the still point
from which all paths start,
a call to action,
or to rest.
October 9, 2016
Every human being
is at least
a little bit crazy.
For most of us,
there is a choice:
listen to the voices
that drive us,
and follow them
into craziness,
or hear them
for what they are:
empty sounds
whistling in the space
of our greater Mind.
October 6, 2016
Wrapped in sleep,
like a blanket
of wellbeing,
I emerge,
fresh and content,
newly born
into this new day,
newly blessed,
and bathed
in gratitude.
September 6, 2016
Most likely,
I will never know
how it is to stand
at the pinnacle of mastery,
but I will know the joy
of disappearing into music,
its vessel,
if not its master.
August 28, 2016
Rust is a slow fire,
burning so gradually
that we cannot see the change,
except with the passage of time.
Time is the slowest fire,
burning everything,
eventually,
over years
and lifetimes,
hiding impermanence
in its glacial pace.