poetry

A Blessing for Wildness

       May spotty skies of dog fur and loving eyes lap you with the wet kisses of clouds overhanging unconditionally all you ever felt or believed
       May you break into the abyss of laughter and shout for joy as the Eden of allowing rewilds you from edges hardened by too much time in houses and buildings
       May you grow green canopies for hair, feeling the wafted chemical messages of trees in the branching tentacles of your interbeing brain and heart
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Reflections on Miles Davis

I think of his eyes – dark pools so sensitive, radiant with droplets of feeling-light, the depth of them in tremulous water, how they seem to ripple inwards as I look into them, as if my heart itself is a ripple in that wide river of receiving, reflecting the sky of me so I can see my vast self for the first time, reflecting things I never saw in my own sky – eyes that hold that note steady, that one note that blows through my heart, all the way through. (more…)

Places I Long to Be

the soft belly of a riverbed
a hut made of harmony 
a cool tree limb curving with kindness
a dandelion house that blows itself away
a dream forest glittering with secret eyes
a butterfly canoe that dissolves in the sky
an underwater ocean arboretum with galaxies of starfish that sing me to sleep
a castle of Northern Lights magnetic with empathy 
an all-encompassing enclave carved in sandstone cliffs by the hieroglyphic wind
a chrysanthemum daydream village nestled in radiant forgetfulness
a pistachio windmill ice cream delivery service station
a celery sailboat that drifts across dimensions of song
an oasis of otters
an aromatic abode of morning with forgiveness and interstellar coffee
a streetcar named “Enoughness”
a den of chipmunks humming with sleep's wild honey
a surrender of sloths
a beehive of belonging
a hugging wall of wallabies
a kangaroo pouch furry with compassion
a merciful seaweed supernova of letting go

here, with you

-

(2019 Ben Ross.  All Rights Reserved.)



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Fibonacci Sings

Walking across the kitchen to turn off a light
The hot water of a shower, wet hair, fingertips and the flow of motion
Not really one thing then another, not even a moment to be found
Just flow
And then no flow to be found, but moments, things again, seemingly
Shifting like this, until it just opens –

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dimensions of you

you arc around the edges of what they say
rainbow shimmered alive by the molecules of water and air
you resonate with your voice
startling the sky, moving tides with the moon of your laughter
you swim in the wide ocean of no-dividing-lines
redefining the real with waves from your spiraling-insistent imagination (more…)

Ocean of Us

for Belinda

       Wellfleet beaches twilight low tide, strung with stones like gazing stars
       you and I and the sun, seagulls setting and rising with the moon somewhere tiding rhymes around our wonder
       wandering, picking up the scattered verses of solid Earthspun rainbows daydreaming us
       the everything-children we are, exploring this allowingness at the edges of silver waves, falling awake in cold bursts within a warm heart-held nowhere
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The Radiant Coexistence of Starlings and the Sky

The first thing I felt was the stark blue light that permeated the sky
interpreting my body as a fragment of time and space
as I sat in a cloud of enamel fumes inside my car, parked in a random lot
off Route 5 and 10 near Greenfield
pondering once again the cold
glowing obelisk of my phone
and wondering if I’d have time to read Whitman or Anne Frank
before the tow truck arrived.

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