This is the house of Love, which has no bound nor end.

Sun Halo

Today I bodysurfed beneath a sun halo.

A huge wave, way out in the depths,
where the winter swells’ sound
sounds back from sky, a sweeping feeling
of fear found for so much unbonded
water, bound to bring us back,
yet hold off on breaking for one
brief moment so we can slip down
the smooth rising face
with a freedom ‘forever’ cannot contain;
what your old shaykh meant later
when he spoke of the cave
and a touch, a fragrance, a forgetful
sound of perfection in your own heart,
whether it sits quietly with him
or listens to an old Xhosa lady
remembering her ancestors
and all the pain
we wrought upon this place,
all the patience
with which it was borne,
asking only to be heard
as its part of human being.

Laugh and cry, wanderer,
laugh and cry for this perfect world
littered with endless ways to know
your empty self in all
these connected moments continued
through the endless echo
of one heartbeat, held together
by simple tales of what it was like
to be captured by sunrise
at the bottom of crashing water,
laughing your head off
because fear turned out
to be the only fiction.

Traces

Surrender is

My flag

An actual sun halo