prairie (rocking drawings)

…what any of us knows has no edges. and somehow it seems to have a center. even if it is a moving center. maybe it is more like a channel. a portal.

an old drawing kept showing up in my mind. from 2008. the year my father died. two years after i returned from tibet. a time when i was walking every day and bowing to the earth while collecting stones. a time when i was fasting every month and doing anything my body knew to find ritual. …

these poems called me back. like something in my bones vibrating. like when i lay on the hard grass of his grave and imagine the space between our bones aligning to open a passageway beyond linear time. and how when we take our place in that way, the deep down bones of our ancestors start vibrating too. …

when meditating, i often rock. gently sway. touching ever so slightly into all angles. an instinctual plumb to find center. to honor a breathing axis that reminds me to stay soft. even centers and knowingness are impermanent. …