by HAF | Mar 15, 2014 | Jetsam
My heart wants sweet and salty treats and Gallon-bottles of spicy red wine It wants to dress up In costumes and Play at the silliest think-upable things Filling sunshined living rooms With laughter It won’t be argued with My heart It goes on Wanting and playing...
by HAF | Mar 4, 2014 | Jetsam
I love to hold hands. There is a basic deep connection in the holding of hands. It is intimate. A direct path from one heart to another. I want to hold the hand of a lover under the covers laying in bed, while walking at night in the park, while driving country roads...
by HAF | May 1, 2013 | Jetsam
I am the one who is willing to grow. Fresh, bright, blooming. From mud, from shit, from seed, then sprout. From sunshine and rain, cooling wind. From garden bed. From a beginningless past, a universe of conditions. Bumping and exploding through space and time. I tell...
by HAF | Apr 22, 2013 | Jetsam
A buddhist teacher once told me, while describing samsara, that the most diabolical prison would be one in which the inmates were completely unaware they were in prison. Then not even the thought to escape would cross the prisoners’ minds. Whether the prisoner...
by HAF | Mar 28, 2013 | Jetsam
Grief came to live in my body the year my mom died. It has never left. Sometimes it is quiet and low down, like a tide that has gone out. Other times it flows in and fills me up. Grief is big. Like an ocean. It is wet. Heavy and soaking wet. It soaks my fiery heart....
