Thursday, February 13, 2014


My friend Darin Stevenson on FB shared a poem I wrote and said, "An exquisite seed may be found to be dancing... within the circle of the dead."

Thought about that as I danced in the graveyard on his frigid morning, 0 degrees. Zero to the bone.

Here's the poem too...


I dreamed I was rearranging the stars. For a purpose I can no longer remember. And then thinking they are so far away, and so large, how could I possibly be rearranging them? But I knew I was doing it nonetheless. When I awoke from this dream I thought about it for awhile. Was it about changing my destiny? Or maybe the inability to change one's destiny? I didn't know. And then I remembered the thing about faith the size of a mustard seed being able to move mountains. I've always taken that scripture as a kind of declaration of determination. Like if you have enough faith you can do anything you want to do. But now I hear it in a different way. If you have the faith of a mustard seed you don’t need to do anything at all. Just be the mustard seed. No need to move any mountains around for god’s sake! Let nature take care of it. But then I realized that moving mountains is exactly what a mustard seed does; when the mustard seed pushes up dirt it moves the mountain. Kind of like how mustard on a hotdog can change the whole hocky game. The seed rearranges the stars.

NY is a mountain of dirty snow

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