Bringing poetry to the stage is for me an exquisite endeavor. I enjoy performing solo, often integrating movement with my words, as well as collaborating with musicians and dancers. Audio and video recordings can be found to the left and please click below for a recording of I am water, performed for Water Sines at St. Mark’s Cathedral in Seattle.
I am water…
Have you forgotten our intimacy?
How you struggle
as if it were all solid
and you yourself separate.
my elixir move through you.
Out of the thick mud
winds the stem of the lotus.
Her blossoms shimmer like stars
in my embrace.
Come, know yourself. You
can let go. You are
water. I am
streaming through your body,
racing through the gorgeous mesh of your veins,
flooding your cells, limbs, fingers.
dropping on your tongue,
draping your taste buds flowering,
mouth softening, releasing your juice, all
the waters of your body, I make you lush—
fruit bursting as you bite into flesh and turn to
energy, eyes streaming—
of this universe.
When are you not changing, flowing?
We are rivers rushing, constantly breaking
into the unknown. Down the mountains we run,
heading for the sea.
Are you coming??
Join with me and rise as a wave!
Ride the electric air!
Froth wind-whipped flies into sky.
Onto the shore, I toss the trunks
of thousand-year-old trees—like sticks
the smallest pebble…
falls through me
like sunlight slipping through glass,
through your red fingers…
Everything passes through you like a wand
Know yourself also
when I turn to rain—
my hush and fitful splatter.
Shattering from the clouds, I break into pieces,
I rain so I may touch
every last leaf and sow the earth
with infinite equity. I soak
into every patch of ground without
fall on the homeless by the exit ramp
and his shabby sign,
on the turreted house ablaze with light,
on the hospitals holding doctors with healing hands
and elsewhere, the ones who need them
I fall on the workers tumbling from the flaming oil rigs
and on the blackened birds who can no longer extract
their slick wings
from my waters.
I wash them ashore
so they may be cleansed
or laid to rest.
There is no being I do not caress.
My liquid strands bathe
every part of you,
with a touch smooth
as a child’s face,
the silken palm of an ancestor,
whose eyes, delving into yours,
So much brokenness inside, afraid
to blossom, we keep our longings
in the thick mud.
For how long?
My wide waters swirl around the roots…
I bathe it all…
May you drink.
from Water Sines 2011