*
We Lay Stone
to lay Memory
keep our thoughts
Focused
In One Place
*
by placing one Stone
upon another
We fashion Order
from our inconsistencies
*
by fitting one stone
next to another
we generate Sense
to our Incongruous
Dealings
*
Build a Sequence from Chaos
*
Assemble Continuity
to our Story
*
We Are Stone layers
*
Art Work by Yaron Rosner
*
There is Comfort in Believing
Good & Evil
Are Two Separate and Opposing Entities
Keeps Us Safe
in a Black and White World
*
Reality, however, is Different
Choices offer themselves
at Every Step:
to do the right thing
is Not always the Easy thing
*
Not Simply an act of random kindness
Rather
Means Seeing the Humanity
Facing You
*
that Person who has States of Mind
As You Do
Hunger, Insomnia,
As You Do
walks their dog
As You Do
suffers headaches
pangs of joy
As You Do
*
The Minute we SEE the Other
As Less
We Descend a Slippery slope
Perpetuating
Evil in the most Ordinary way
*
This SIGHT is a Choice
*
unquestioned
it becomes
a Way of Life
*
*
the Essential Value
Born from
the little movements of life,
small repeated gestures
that Nurture a child into Form
*
the Radiance of a Glance
maintaining the food link
to the Soul
Nourishment
or its deprivation
and subsequent Hunger
*
It’s in the Repeated
acts of kindness
a being Blossoms
in Reverence
to the god of Small Things
we understand our own Importance
as Care Givers
not in the god of large things,
the foolish red herrings
lead us Astray
from the real necessity
of being Here Now
*
It’s for those Small
Things in small
moments, I love you,
the rest
I ‘ve allowed myself
to leave behind
in peace
*
Art Work By Yaron Rosner
where is this place
we look for
this place we seek
Touch
as we Grapple
with meaning
Purpose
where?
where the place of belonging
the Refuge
that allows words
to stand Still
wait for their resonance
*
One Heart
*
the sound of many hearts
*
Photograph By Nick Zungoli
You Returned
from the Dead,
as did Lazarus,
the continuation
into your New Life
a Resurgence
from Deepest Darkness
*
You carry Now
profound insight
into Our Humanity,
as revealed by the modulated
Spring in your Step
the Smile,
the ardent generosity
and more importantly
the Absence of Sadness
*
Art Work by Yaron Rosner
To My Uncle Ty
*
articulating the depths
of your vulnerability
for the children you brought forth
was unbearable
made you powerfully belligerent
which in turn immobilized
those who could
the ensuing disaster
the sense of being both the victim
and the perpetrator, at the mercy
of your madness
*
Monsters also age,
where fire once raged
puffs of smoke swirl
into cloud formations
but knowledge of damage done
never fades
only memory thins
such a transparent veil
where what exists is what’s before you
and you, you billow, in a wind
of nameless remorse and gratefulness
Would it be Grace?
Photograph By Nick Zungoli
Erasing what is carved in Flesh
Takes decades if it happens at all
So much concealing,
So much conscious Effort
So much Reassurance,
Smoothing of tissue
******
Erasing what is carved in flesh
involves Rewiring,
painstakingly
Repetitive,
Tedious and Trying
So much tripping
Struggling
with Love & Belonging
******
Erasing what is carved in Flesh
Is for the Hearty,
Those who when Necessity
calls, see no Choice
But to be Who they Are,
Come what May
******
Art Work by Yaron Rosner
With Trauma
there always seems
to be another layer
to revisit.
Just as you think
“I understand this”
just as that pinch
in the heart
reveals a deeper
grasp, complex
simplicity of feelings
kept under cover, breathless,
awaiting with keen inflammation
a moment’s respite
from this tight chamber
without windows…
Just then
the next layer appears
more questions;
speechless,
a sense of awe and wonder
at the depths to be found within
the outfit of our multiple
bodies, physical, mental,
emotional,
spiritual
Walking In The Onion Field
Photograph by Nick Zungoli
To L.S.H, K.M, D.L, A.S, A.F
Those who walk us through the motions
of coming alive again,
Teach us to breathe
in ways and places we never dreamt of,
open horizons, develop muscle,
tissue, blood, carrying more oxygen
we had until then carried
with constant heedful reminders
they bring us back to here, now
the body as it is and feels
have us contact the immediacy of our life
the beauty of one’s Vessel
carrier of the Soul,
Soul they were text messaging
the whole time, with their fingers
deft, like Morse, where less
is more.
Art Work Yaron Rosner
Something in the sound
like the Unraveling of a rope long gripped in panic
the release of a Breath exhaled at last
the Cooling brought on at dusk on a summer’s day
a flock of geese Honking as they push north
the peal of water
* * *
Relief at assessing with my heart
there is nothing more I can do
the ultimate Act of trust
an order to the chaos of my life
A message in the heat
meaning in the migrating geese
purpose in the sound of water
* * *
the unraveling Rope escapes my hand
precipitates the notion Nothing
was there to begin with
only my will
* * *
relinquishing or the Acceptance
that I am infinitesimally small
in an immeasurably large universe
governed by laws intuited
within instants, Fade
the moment they take Form.
* * *
Yaron Rosner
Duplicata