I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free
The next poem will be pulled
from the moonlight;
it will be a falling star
it will be a burning branch.
The next poem will climb down
from the mango tree while
I am dreaming and
sneak away before I wake.
The next poem I will plant
beneath my own skin,
I will stand beneath the rain,
the next poem will bloom.
The next poem I won’t even write
it will descend with the sun,
it will walk with me,
it will become my shadow.
Life is here to break your heart over and over again
until you realize that heartbreak is life too.
And then your heart can no longer be broken.
And you stand naked in front of life, moment by moment,
knowing that whatever happens is totally okay
even in the midst of perfect devastation,
which, of course, is devastating perfection.
This is freedom beyond the speaking of it.
Conflict is like the narrows of an hour glass; once you pass through this period of conflict, the universe opens up.
Sunshine all the time makes a desert.