Small Things

*

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

Art Work By Yaron Rosner

Emergence

*

there are those of us

who feel life’s Beauty

so Deeply

it is painful

*

and Pain so completely

there is Beauty

in the Depth

of Feeling

*

drives some to Madness

some to a Life

lived in Fear

others

to Breathe

a Generosity of Heart

come what may

*

Photograph by Nick Zungoli

Photograph by Nick Zungoli

*

Stealing Fire

by expanding

Horizons

we See more

*

perceive

the weft and warp

behind the weave

Motives

behind Actions

*

by seeing more

we Imagine more

Symbolic Beings That We Are

understand the Value

of our choices

rather than feeling subjected

to the decisions

of others

*

By Expanding Our Horizons

we inevitably test our Faith

Everyday

a multiplication of options

was it right? was it not?

*

makes some of us Cower

others Soar

*

The Price of Stealing Fire

*

Art Work By Yaron Rosner

Art Work By Yaron Rosner

To My Beloved

To My Beloved

and the choice I make in you

for the sake of giving

you something

of the written me

not to let another year

go by without a word,

or many words

(whatever it takes)

tell you what you

already know

Something other than

the three words I do

intermittently utter

rather, something of the Substance

such the marrow

of a bone, its Wealth

of nutrients

fear of not expressing

the depth I feel

makes me stumble

as it is in good faith

I bring you this Me of mine

choose you every morning

as my traveling partner

in and out of fog

and broad daylight

through the thin Stench

of my mind’s gaseous compost

and the thick Scent of my heart’s

lemon blossoms, such a veil

enveloping us as the heat

of day does break by water

clapping at our presence

Through the torture and rewards

of my Spirit’s Wanderings

a lost ghost,

at best a heartfelt warrior

For this and all

that is more

I hold your hand

move forward

through the wake and sleep

of our  journey together.

*

25 years

Yaron Rosner

Yaron Rosner

 

The World Without You

You Say

you don’t belong

here anymore

*

weary of a world

changing so fast

your Spirit

flails

in the loneliness

of your words

*

I pause

*

the Origin of my life,

I  never imagined

you Elsewhere

than part of it

Now

unwelcome

and inevitable

the notion of your absence

prods me

*

I see

a Dimming

momentary

for the planet

but Permanent in

my chambers,

the ones built

with Your Blood

*

golden Mayo cropped

  My mother, Marilyn Cashman Nahas is 83

Very lucky to still have her in my life.

*

The Swimmer

Art Work by Yaron Rosner

Art Work by Yaron Rosner

*

Moving from shoal

to shoal, he disappears

close to the creek

reappears around the sharp rocks

the swimmer

proceeds in Silence

diligent, focused

the swimmer pursues a goal,

looking peeking, assessing,

moving on wordlessly

leaving no trace, no sign

as the sea slowly heaves

 in and away,

 Breath of a patient Mother

Soundless

the Swimmer

advances along the edgy

coast, showing no effort

as if gliding through oil

unaware, he perseveres

bobbing, peering, bobbing

*

Absorbing the tenacity

I see a Force

stronger

than the Man Himself

Dictating his will to live

Stay Alive

come what may

Barbed Wire

desperate hunger

there for him

always

*

ONE HEART

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

Photograph By Nick Zungoli

Ink

Ancient like Resin

Revealing itself with a Glimmer

Then Fading

into the empty

Darkness of Silence

a matter of revelation

of Readiness, Timing

No cause, no effect

Rather Seizing

The promise of a Moment

like a hand lazily

waiting in the water

for the yielding Fish

the one who says:

“Take me, take me Now”

Photograph by Nick Zungoli

Photograph by Nick Zungoli

The Grey Matter

It Is

in the unlikely Shadows

of Ambiguity

Your Rest is found

*

After the Struggle

That Is;

*

after kicking and screaming

in the Face of uncertainty’s

formless Fog

Exhaustion creeps, loosens,

eases the Armor

allows it to Shift

slip, slide, Until

Thrown Aside

a Naked and hesitant Rise ensues

*

there being nothing

to Fight, there is Nothing

to lose

*

the fog drapes

in Greys

comforting the bewildered

heart

mindful that certainty

is not a goal

but a fleeting outcome

if at all

*

the goal would be

to proceed here,

now,

in the moment

*

Photograph by Nick Zungoli

Photograph by Nick Zungoli

The Revival

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

Art Work by Yaron Rosner

To My Uncle Ty

*