Why I Am A Pacifist

The parents of my parent's parents
made their way to where
I would not know
from hunger pangs, pogroms,
a fate cast in fire

Their memories are for blessing

They cracked the yoke
of violence born
of fear and lack
so that I might bear only
what weight I choose. And I do,
carrying hope and my blood's memory
of slavery and sacrifice
like shiny epaulets, dangling
from my clean, grateful shoulders.

The streets I walk are golden,
I am more at ease
than even in their dreams.
I see this sacred world
not through their bloodshot eyes
and for this
to bless them for this blessing
daring to imagine
and for my children's children
I am a pacifist.

Eaton Canyon Psalm

two logs of perfect complement
balance between two rocks
over raucous waters

ever watchful
of the watch
layers of listening

to whom rushing reeds, canyon quarry
to whom glowing hoary hills
just beyond unseen snow

to you of course
to all of you
to your unusualness

what else can one offer a wedged log in need
save prayer
each end, a celebration

in the next world
there will be time
to tell of all you've seen so far

Remembrance

an abundance of wine
a small bag of avocados
and parentheses

my gifts are wrapped and ready
in this love poem to my soul
on this night of six million deaths

today is a gift
that's why it's called the present
if this is correct, press one

Holy Holy Holy

balanced and complete
freedom and safety
calm and ecstatic

grant that I understand and be understood

confident that you get my meaning
even better than myself

in the ongoing unconscious dialogue
mother and mentor
missing and known

not empirical truth
nor many truths
nor many versions of the truth

truth is multidimensional
all and more
unknowable

each citizen a translation of the founding word
each society a document in humanity's holy canon

fear is in your head
so forget your head
and you'll be free

feel your power
suppress tendency to fantasize
that the good stuff is out of reach