Dig until when

Never stop digging, my friend

With good earth under your finger tips

And then

Clean them out

Rest

And then again

Dig and dig until when

You get at the rock and truth

Which resides beneath

This most undug version of you

And again

Beginnings before

A new beginning

Will never mean

That all those beginnings prior

Never were

Or will ever again be

Or somehow need

To subside like the tide

For as you can see

There is always a body of water

Such as this

Such is you

The sea

Into oblivion

A stare into oblivion

Is by no means

Even close to a backwards step

A stare into oblivion is in fact

More of a statement of mind

Than many or any other kind

For into oblivion

You can certainly look

But cannot step

And survive

A wave of moonlight

Like a wave

Cresting high

Crash over

This most

Unsensory me

And instead

Flood me with

New sense

New sound

And a blue

Bright burning

New moon

(In the sea and sky alike)  

New and different

New and different

Both tempt and torture

One and all alike

Regardless of status or standing

Of time or tests having long since past

For we all wish for more

In that indefinite way

As we humans do

As is nature

New and different 

The foundation of knowledge

The point of teaching

Both is and isn’t

The foundation of knowing

But the true grounding of confidence

Which comes along with

A strong understanding (to stand on)

Days and days

The version of you

Which wishes and prays

For transformation each day

Will certainly get it with the dawn

With the renewed light of each and every

Coming day

And days

Old blog posts

I can and will not

Forget

But your words certainly help

To remember and remind

This

The one you

My

Family of mine

You are missed

Far more than

Any such word could fill

This empty this amiss in mind

But in that

And with it

I will take

What words I can ultimately cling to and find

Deepest water, quiet whisper

Deepest water

Whisper into my heart

A word of truth

To set my sights and annuals by

So that I might grow in listening ways

And hum again in both hearing and heart

The running sounds of the places without space

Between the rocks and the waters and mantle plates

Whisper these

Most well known ways

The quiet let alone

The quiet thing

For intuitive to remember

Is that when you look out

Through that window of yours

No one else sees a house

No one else sees you

The outside world will only see

What they think you can be

To them

So this

Whatever song you’re listening right now to try and feel

Is solely within you my friend

And the outside world

In all of its turning and grinding and creaking growing

Will not yield

Your house is home

Yes

But no one else gets to see what you do in it

So stop expecting them to know

Let alone see

Let alone

Time as a tanka

Time unfolding is

Both a blessing and yet curse

When the direction

Of such an unfolded day

Is neither wanted nor know

The nature of fatherhood

The known excellence of one

Cannot be questioned

Even by the existence of a separate other

Which might be more suited or suitable

In mind and matter seen now

It does not matter

For all is done

And suns have passed

Into this cool night of second day

And the memories of such

Will forever last

In this

One way

Or another

This is the nature of fatherhood instilled

Bricks

My feelings these days

I view as far less important

Than the infrastructure built

By the bricks of patience laid down

At the feet of children well known

To be our future streets

Such feelings

Are simply incomparable

To the importance of these

Open and release

Open your mind

And release your heart to feel

There

With an outstretched eye you will see

Be it horizon or stars

Atop windows or shelves

Whatever words had evaded you this far

Will suddenly

Be

Kin, family, a tanka

Kin sing these but twice

In years of passing like snow

In their falling ways

Songs will be gone forever

Before your voice can resound

Heights and hopes which rise

No one can match

Defeat

Or fail to mention

The soaring heights

Of the hopes of man

When with unrelenting optimism and gusto

He senses that

The inevitable wind

Will rise again

And flourish rightly in the sails

Wrapped so firmly beneath his feet

Just to settle all other dreams

And all other schemes

Of the unapologetic and unhopeful man

The return

God created man

Perhaps as a way to represent

The highs and lows

Of what the most volatile life of intrigue would be

Or might be

In comparison to his own

Perfect understanding of unison

And the pain which follows

When falling out from same

The chosen path

As surely as this

He yearns for you

He waits for me

The return

The indecisive

Indecision itself

Can sometimes rise up

And be the culprit of being

Which keeps us very much away

From the kind of experience we might wish

To have

To see

And to be

And that indecisive indecision

Is not on them

Oh not

That very same essence or seed

Is me

Darker, darker, a tanka

Remember your past

As there was very much once

A darker home to

Go home to on your own time

And darker vices alike

Change comes for us all

Best is not necessarily the same

In that subtle mind of yours

With its conditions to seek out

Only those know paths

Of which your feet are familiar

No in saying

This is me from afar

Telling you to be cautious

In worshipping that which you currently are

For as surely as change

Comes for us all like the night

Nothing is more admirable than a learned man

Who learns and trains in his own time

For the battle which he and his family

Hopefully never have to

Fight