Chosen by the Lion (audio only)
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The Secrets of Poetry
Very long ago when the exquisite celadon bowl that was the mikado's favorite cup got broken, no one in Japan had the skill and courage to mend it. So the pieces were taken back to China with a plea to the emperor that it be repaired. When the bowl returned, it was held together with heavy iron staples. The letter with it said they could not make it more perfect. Which turned out to be true.
2009
We Manage Most When We Manage Small
What things are steadfast? Not the birds. Not the bride and groom who hurry in their brevity to reach one another. The stars do not blow away as we do. The heavenly things ignite and freeze. But not as my hair falls before you. Fragile and momentary, we continue. Fearing madness in all things huge and their requiring. Managing as thin light on water. Managing only greetings and farewells. We love a little, as the mice huddle, as the goat leans against my hand. As the lovers quickening, riding time. Making safety in the moment. This touching home goes far. This fishing in the air.
2008
Let Birds
Eight deer on the slope in the summer morning mist. The night sky blue. Me like a mare let out to pasture. The Tao does not console me. I was given the Way in the milk of childhood. Breathing it waking and sleeping. But now there is no amazing smell of sperm on my thighs, no spreading it on my stomach to show pleasure. I will never give up longing. I will let my hair stay long. The rain proclaims these trees, the trees tell of the sun. Let birds, let birds. Let leaf be passion. Let jaw, let teeth, let tongue be between us. Let joy. Let entering.
2009