Poetry: All The Beloved Known Things

Last year there was no shortage of poetic magic in my life. I moved to Lake Atitlan in Guatemala to heal a debilitating neck injury, mend a broken heart, and finish writing a novel. Poetry was not on the agenda. But often I would find myself waking up in the middle of the night, grabbing a notebook, and penning a poem. These poems were different than poems I had written before—much different than the poems I published my first two books of poetry. Changes rooting in my life were blossoming in my poetry. This is the first of last year’s middle-of-the-night prose I’m sharing with the world. Thank you for reading

*All the Beloved Known Things

There is a light that shines at dawn that is not the sunrise. There is music in the air your ears will not detect. If you know why the free bird sings, if you can understand why someone might leave all the beloved, known things to follow a preview of a premonition of a spark of the heart's tugging hopes—then you have already been to the place where no one arrives or leaves.

Why not? Rise to the occasion of your own possibilities? Why not? Forget the appeasement of unfamiliar natures to race toward the ancient ecstaticism that's been hidden in everyone on the cosmic Easter egg hunt?

Her she is. There he goes. Here you went. There you shined like supple redemption. And we laughed. Because before we were weirdos, we weren't as able to embrace the day with as bear a hug.

Once you cross a bridge, you are on the other side. Once you take a dive, the water will not be able to resist engulfing you completely.

It's okay to dream like that—wild—open—hopeful—assured that what will be will be wonderful—committed to come alive in whatever comes your way.

No need to worry about whom to believe. Notice who's happy. See whose joy can barely fit in their smile. See who dances with the dawn. Whose songs lift up the corners of the heart. Whose closely held serenity leaves them unperturbed in the turbulence of opinions and preferences. Whose presence is a gift guiding lost starlight home to your heart.

Seek. Seek your heart out sojourner. Join the party. Enjoy the feast. You belong here. We've been waiting and wondering when you'd grace us with your possibilities.

Be. Be well wanderer. You are as home as you are living in your heart. And today the ocean inside of you is as calm as it is immense as you are fortunate and free.