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Why do I tremble these days?
Shake myself to pieces
in the centre of this hurricane.
A fear so sacred it doesn't
shout, it whispers.
Chill-cold of a mountain that pushes down on me.
I am aligned with a void that opens
gash-mouthed maw into my soul.

Shudder those tree tops.
Rooted to the molten core of earth.
We can only shine forth,
with a ferocious scream.

A singular intention
to be.
I am.
Nothing in particular,
everything in regard.

I am.
In the centre.
Expanded out. Like a canvas across the starry sky.
Storms are out to sea. I am here.
On the sand and crying.
Crying, long lost child in this universal stream.

Oh why; why do I tremble these days?
An axis. A central column to orientate me.
An silent core that rushes its strength into my frame.

Why do I still tremble?

Understood

I've thrown my heart space
onto rough ground.
Death a beat intense around my head.
I held your breathe for you. I held it
deep in my bones.
You moaned if I left. You asked me to stay a little.
I stayed. I witnessed.
I never knew it felt so tight in my chest.
All. The. Time.
Mortality beats in my blood
and I sit with you.
Curtains closed for you, light too intense
when there is a tunnel blazing.
The rattle of a sigh
shouting, "suffer no more life".
I will carry your frame into
a new world. A place we both
can finally, once we pass, call
home.

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If I let go,
where do I fall to?
Is there a space in this
for me to land?

I feel myself moving at blurring speed,
teetering,
tottering.

This void within I grasp at,
let go at,
scream at, rage at, fall feet first at.
Teaches me to let be.
I can't not force it, force of will.
I tired out, tremble out, muscle shakeshakeshake.
Sweat tumbling torrential pour.

I have no eyes
and finally...I exhausted,
I see.

Defining

What is a definition but a holding space for the ego to rest into.

It needs to hold a concept within itself. Defining itself by the concepts and definitions it made up in the first place. Well, it made up by virtue of being born into a collective social context and the nurturing of our perspectives through the associations we make.

Life is pushing us beyond the borders of self-imposed boundaries. Things you think you need in order to be happy, in order to be content, they are like shifting sands on the screen of awareness. Neti neti - not this not that. Resting into the awareness of all arising phenomena without holding onto needing or wanting a concept of a situation.

Melt into what is right in front of you. The client who has asked for your services - serve in the moment. The friend whose eyes meet yours in communion - commune in that moment. A deeply held embrace honoured and cherished in that moment; then get ready for work.

If we drop our concepts and allow the felt-sense of this moment meet us fully we realise there is no need to crave, to be averse, to struggle with our reality. It requires a brutal honesty with the heart of the world we so want to surrender to.

Surrender is not another act that we try and do. It is the ultimate non-doing, an intense letting go of our needs. The tantrums of the ego dim themselve into a small hum in the distance of our consciousness as the universe is made our centre.

So I choose this moment: surrender. Not as an act of will but as an act of faith that there is nothing to fear in being no definition; absolutely nothing at all.

Poems on a late evening

Twixt

I, with the deep roots
of experience that nourish
a core,
without form, within emptiness.

You, with the high branches,
forever caught by wind.
A boundary,
drawing inside and outside lines.

Living in amorphous space
we breath eachother in.
Breath for breath,
exhale and inhale.
The enticing caress of an option
not to be taken but
to be freely given.


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If only
I could keep my centre
still.
It rocks like a cyclone
ripping off chunks
of me,
flung tilt-a-whirl
into torrent.

Prayer. Rocking against the wind
an only defense,
when there is no Self to hold onto.

The tearing apart
of any definitions
hardens me against the tides.

Enough. It is just enough.
This moment.
These currents, these flows,
these unchangeable chasms.
I surrender to reverance,
the sacred shining in the dark heart.

Enough.
Just enough.
Right now. Enough.

Enough.
Enough.

Dance blood

I give my feet to the earth,
dance my blood
wet into clumps of sand.
My core melts
into waves
that crack, lightning-hot,
into boulders.
Each long held beat,
beats itself into existence.
Dissonance the only resonance
I can hold,
thumbing it like a wound.

There is an urgency
to the ground
that holds me
in my chaotic whirlings.
It speaks of rhythm and timing
and the choices of man.

Each syncopated shout
throws me deeper into myself.
I am the centre thrown out
into life.
To fight,
to surrender,
to ask,
to question.

To hold nothing but
these feet,
beating a path in
the red-speckled sand.

Where to place this?

Your thoughts
hit me like a pulsar
spinning fast on its axis;
blinding me at the speed of light.
An eternal runaway speed.

Narrowly focused on
a beam sent through the dark night,
deep into a heart
that aches each moment it breaths.

Only coming up for air
when I am drowning
in the pea-green flood of rain
that splashes a discovery of the spaces
that stay dry.

This space
that heals itself just
to be burnt through again.
Waiting for water to evaporate the pain
in a desert of waiting for
an answer to a question that is never asked.

Some poetry

Sometimes late at night
I lie in the deep, deep grass
and wrap myself in starlight.
Drench myself in the noise of crickets
and silence.
Allow my spirit to be swayed
flotsam and jetsam
in the quiet breeze of the midnight sun.
Til I let go
and nothing remains
but the slow turning of the earth
in the silent ground.



Ek is net a klein persoon
tussen die maan en die son
en ek verdwaal in die geheime
van die aarde
en die klop-klop-klop van tyd
wat breek oop my vel.

Rus 'n bietjie hier in die koue stilte

se die wolke wat blink tussen die son skyn.