Poetry is a huge part of my process. Sometimes writing poetry is the only way I can keep track of my ideas and develop new ideas that help me sort out tough spots. It shows up for me as I engage with different cultures and events that happen in and around these cultures. It shows up for me in events that happen in my life that cause change within myself. I write quite a bit of poetry when I am traveling. Once in a while I actually write a good poem or an important one. Once in a while I will post one here to share.

Perhaps I will try to publish a book of poetry someday. If that happens I’ll let you know here as well. Until then you will just have to read them on this page-hope you enjoy reading and hope these humble words might make as much of a difference for you in reading them as they have for me in writing them.

"Healers Hands" was a dream I had. I woke up and wrote it down exactly as the dream happened.

healer’s hands
he has been summoned
to a couple he does not know
Pete and Esmerelda
to heal 

Pete is 70 cancer runs throughout
the healer places his hands
directly on his gnarled body
inside his eyes
he can see
the pain being cut out
like rot from a fallen tree
with a chainsaw

the healer looks out
facing east
over the vast farm 
and dense vegetable garden
as the sun rises
a rich orange glow
in a strange backwards way
it is 7 in the evening

in the distance
bulldozers and industry
I cant take the cancer away he says
just the pain
it’s a temporary respite
you’re lucky
this paradise you have
won’t last long
Pete thanks him and agrees
it is better to be gone
than see this land destroyed

in the crowded room
the downstairs of an old house
turned general store
the agitated man
with the pony tail and army jacket
bursts in swinging and cursing

with immense physical strength
the healer bear hugs the agitated man
before any more damage can be done
he can feel the scales and boils
beneath the worn army coat
and knows the pain 
must be intense

the man struggles
the healer’s hold
does not relent
until the man is quiet
the scales and boils have receded

quiet now and at peace
the man turns and walks away
across the small dirt road
and disappears
into the tall corn
swaying and rustling
in the breeze

the healer
places his hands firmly
on the head of the tall man with dark hair
right above the temples
a screen opens
from the healers hands
showing numbers and graphs
the people in the room watch
as the doctor comes in
this is where the pain is
and this is why
the doc in the white coat looks on

nothing I can do
says the doctor
the healers hands push tighter
against the skull
he closes his eyes momentarily
and sustains the pressure
until all the numbers and graphs
on the screen of his hands
begin to erase
line by line
leaving a white blank screen
he lays the now sleeping tall man with dark hair down
and covers him gently
and walks away

in the large
basement room
but with windows and doors
that go out into a garden
of orange and red with iridescent 
blue and green accents
the healer leads a group
in a circle
I need to change the color
of what ails you inside
I do this
by playing these different rhythms
on your body like a cajon
gently he plays
the bones of the lady in the purple sweater
he taps out another meter
on the back of the man in the red blazer
and the room is filled with
with sound

complex rhythms and textures
float through the iridescent garden
as he watches the color inside each
become vibrant and rich
chasing away
the grays and murky
that hold pain and darkness

the doors open
and the garden is alive with color and sound
he stands up 
tells the circle
that music is the answer
and disappears
into the orange and red with iridescent 
blue and green accents

my wife is waking me now
need to get the kids up
they have their doctors appointment today
flu shots and checkups
please hurry

as I get my son dressed
I focus on the healer
but I cant quite see his face
I know him though
very well
he thinks like me 
feels like me
only I don’t think I can do what
he has done
in that strange backwards dream
where the sun rises at night

or can I.....
for now 
I had better keep this to myself
and ponder
life with those possibilities