If only I had had my day with y ou, I'd know just what could be, but, of course, the danger was immense, for me at least, and that was only stop gap so that I could have been of other days but forever locked in an inner cell, the known outside of it, perhaps forever lurking there and not in love at all.
Had you unlocked the doors also into more recent times, as man, you'd have remained of time, able to return to where you'd been before we found what was. . . a joy of forever.
April, 2007

Conjunctions cry to me to use their versatility to get me back into the harmony of silence in my family.

I turn my back upon this subtle cry to reestablish uncompleted scission of two minds with but a single thought.

But ands and all the other linking words remain for me a mystery because what is on either side of each of them does not remain unlisted just because it does not show its face conjoining it with what's upon the other side.

For 'I' am only one 'and you' remain the one I was.

Paula
2 / 9 / 94

High winds propel
the rains until they are aligned
with earth, a strange phenomenon
which seems to say that now, indeed,
"anything goes," a principle more
fearful than the wildest force
that nature can unleash. Yet,
nothing untoward remains of
what was loosed, and so, again
the wind wafts gently and the rains refresh the air.
Sept., 2005

Fear drips in streams
It seeks revenge
It calls for help.
Quieten the drops
which fall
so that they can
remain untouched
by that which
follows after them.
Repeat the call
for help
Unseat revenge
without a sound,
then let the fear
fall downward till
it can no longer
be upon the way.
4/4/95

Fly forth without
the knowledge
of return.
Fall forth without
a way to go.
Try to find yourself
upon the way.
Call to the stars.
12/10/95

Loudly all proclaim what is their lot in life,
and softly they begin to beg for more.
They seem to be enamored of just being who they are,
and so don't try too hard to change.
And yet consensus is that they must still be happy having less than they could have.

The heights are now below and what I see before my eyes is endless space.
The depths have risen from their place and what I see is endless time.
This means to me that I must stand, must look, and then must wait until the air refracts my own embrace of here and now.
8/8/94

Can anyone be of the past
and yet be of now?
It seems not possible, and
yet it is, for all
of me is of the past, but
standing in the open door,
moving into now

Paula Diehl
6/8/06

Grope not for words because they are not there unless they wait to be retrieved.
Seek not a truth unless it lies in wait to be brought forth into the light.
Look not for knowledge which you should not have until it stares you in the face, and then begin to wander forth into the day which lies in wait for you.

11/11/2004

Only stars can find the way now, and they will show you.
Only time can drag its feet, but that, tenuously.
But light will rush onto your way with aplomb to catch you up to you !

06/07/06

Nothing is of me now, yet I am.
I stay within myself, and feel restless.
When I seem to be about to leave, I don't, then know
again that I am.
I wonder who I was before there was nothing of me.

5/25/06

Only lies can flourish if anything goes /
so drink the dregs of nothingness /
wherein the anything is not /
yet gather in what lies in corners on the floor /
in bits and pieces /
and - like dust - waits to be retrieved and made into longed for truth.

12/15/05

My knees are not in linens draped nor do they find themselves alone because they cannot yet be let out onto grass.
Their inner lines remain untouched so as to grasp the forward moving links of time which only can be of the day.
So move alone as they pursue what is not yet of time within the ordinary way.

It is not time / which calls
us forth / but home which
sends us out / and so we
can return / when all else
fails to draw us forth to
new experience.

It is not life / which sends
us home / but only that which
seems to say / that what you
saw was not what was, and
so return to see what now is
really so.

Each thread I take into the mesh gives color to the intricate design, although I use just grays and other neutral tones.
Each stitch I weave into the work takes freedom from the individual stitch.
Such loss must surely be a gain to make the conscious work a forward-moving step , for otherwise the maker would foretell his own imprisonment.

It has no words because it is of ice, and yet it moves the soul.
It slams into the past to bring it forth in ways which close its doors.
It has no way to open up the past because the ice speaks also of what was before it came to be itself.
So let the sound which is of now become what was, then drink its dregs so you may see the purity of that which lies ahead.

It flies along the road to gather up the ones who are not in command of what they do.
It washes those who falter in the dust and dare not sweep its meanings from within.
It blinds them to what is before their eyes so they can carry forth their own intended way, so they can be above the dust which clutters their intent and sets their feet upon a line they have not made.

Somehow the walls began to fall before the day was done /
and this precipitated heights not of the day /
and time stopped short /
until it could not hold in place the heights it met /
and it pushed its way into the day /
before the dark came on.

His hair reflects the dawn
his skin holds golden flecks of light
the shoulders claim the world is his
but most of all his eyes are laced with joy
and this will be until he focuses his glance.
From there, it seems that only life can spare these
finely honed joys.