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hi all,

a poem for now

and dedicated to Skye Sister, whom i most admire for her ernestness, her

wise-mind, and spirit--she is but my own self, healing. as i have

thought often that my being "here" is for healing, how curious it has

been that for many of us our health has been pushed ** beyond** illusory

margins in order that we might travel along the "crash course." a path

which is no path-- a process which is no process. .. a road which is us.

 

namaste.

 

love and blessings,

gen

 

stars: see red

post marginalization bliss syndrome

 

 

mixing light with acid rain eyes

fixed forward-- moved subsurface

environed by rocks and rocks and

 

stale assumptions yawned from my

eyes and i forgave myself and slid

to the other side without moving , mixing

 

light with sweet sweet rain in

dark dark solitude eyes fixed looking

still into revolving

 

tide -- ambiguous shapes greet and sing

--such clarity!-- one sings and i wish

the planet well, fare well and a quiet

 

easy bliss and being-- vermillion stars

unmoving by my side

in order to achieve it.

 

--gen berlin

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