One song

in a multitude of dialects

the register that elephants grumble

the chirps and squeals, the slide of otters 

Not just the song in human hearts

but one uncurling in the heart of ferns

pulsing in the swirl of bees, the sway of nests

whisper-lacing in the white fry of roots 

root clasping root in dark soil crumble

fungus linking soft root hair melody

Above, stars sing, swinging in their patterns

below, molecules cluster and part

and in between, our voices rise

Sand hisses down the slope of dunes

Mice warble in the walls, calling to their partners

Whales pulse their symphonies across the sea

A chimpanzee cradles her child and pants a breath

A human mother cradles hers—la la la lala laha she sings

—Sarah Webb

Where do I take refuge

I take refuge in a God I have no name, no image for

Just a felt sense

As deep within me as deep can get

This refuge on good or hard days

Can feel

Like a breeze trailing

Soft tendrils on my bare skin

Can feel

Like the shift shaping clouds

Following no rules, none

Just pure spontaneity

Feels like awareness

Of how my pain and the world's pain

Sits like a tonnage of weight

On my heart

Cracking it open

To reveal the compassion, tenderness, and wounding

Feels like moments

as they unfold, oh so slowly or scamper by

Refuge in momentary awareness of presence

Refuge in smiles on faces

Voices in connections

That evaporates momentarily

The weight on my heart

Refuge in the day to day tasks

Both mundane and stimulating

Refuge in seeing my broken places

And putting out the welcome mat

Refuge in the hour glass of my life emptying

And knowing that I don't know

Where I will take off when it's done emptying

Yet it will be well, all Well

—Jean Lopez

On Navigation

We move forward

because that’s the only way 

the treadmill runs

the river flows

the sand falls.

We’re all driving west

into the sunset

but do not despair

for the Earth is round

and if you go far enough one way

you come back again

probably not exactly where you started

because of planetary curvature

but there are enough new beginnings 

hatching in even the oldest of souls.

The Big Bang wasn’t one and done

it set off a seemingly infinite

number of small bangs

clanging around in molecules,

and every mathematician 

worth her chalk

knows permutations always have

an exclamation point.

A guru said:

Everything is emptiness

and yet there is still display.

That is how we are—

our core is the hum

of primordial nothingness

and yet

there is so much light

so much sound

so much light.

-Kai Cooley