The Blue Book


Breathe the sea, sweet heart.

Feel it shiver down your spine
like those stories of old,
each a clear explanation
in the simplest words
that somehow weave a stitch
closer to the fabric
of what is beyond dream,
each fiction forming
its own gravity well:
a rock rolling on forever
if you would but turn
just a little bit
this way.

Can you feel it, dearest?
The wave in you,
the capacity for wonder,
walking on salt water at sunset,
having felt what it means to ride
with nothing between
you and white-blueness.

Lose yourself, lover!
Abandon hope
if you wish to enter here,
abandon words,
let go your language
if you seek to dive
through breaking water,
be no more
than swirling sand stirred
forever by the current.

This is bliss:
see both a muddy ocean
and another means to dance
with the divine.


Kun Faya Kun

For those who prefer rivers