Student Artwork

Masks and Poems by Kaleo and Elise

• 
  

  Aquila’s Blessing

  Again the golden beak tears
  shards of flesh from your sternum.
  Again you must tether them
  that your chest may swell with wind
  as you wrestle wingless fear
  to climb again to the sun –
  split crown of the mountain.

  Mixed media plaster mask by Kaleo Ching
  Head and torso,  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Arctic Rite

  Snow to me is snow alone
  but to my sisters of the north who live
  beside the white bear and sleep beneath the ice
  it comes in many names,
  the crystal rain.

  The winter plain reveals to the sun
  his most honored shrine –
  in stillness an offering to fire
  from the white spirit.

  Mixed media ceramic mask by Kaleo Ching
  Head,  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Arluk Goes to the Mountain

  A face of mud, a wrap of fur, a heart
  of wasted love, and Arluk fled. He bent
  the grasses to the mountain. One must part
  with hope contrived of sticks. Such weeping sent
  his sorrow before him; hunger sent a wish
  for fine smells and a full belly. And so
  the mountain readied herself with runnels of fish
  and solace of granite. Arluk learned the slow
  prayers of mountain spirits and healing of
  her hermitage, where loss was memory
  and song returned to stiffened lips, where love
  could find the sky and set his longing free.
  He drank the mercy of the mountain streams
  and left behind a cache of roughened dreams.

  Mixed media ceramic mask by Kaleo Ching
  Head,  1990s
  Sonnet by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Arrow

  Women robed in blessings of the deer
  keep the earth as kindly as their mothers
  while men honor antlers in ritual and work
  and all grow strong on flesh and spirit.

  The arrow like a vow seizes the heart
  and the hunter's prideless eye
  does not blink as the red muscle
  flickers and goes out.
  The heart of man and woman dies a little too
  for sharing souls is not an easy matter.

  But the setting sun tugs the little deaths
  to the other side of darkness
  where the last beat meets the first in holy union
  and stars who give night form and steer the dreamer
  do not protest the sun but run
  like bears to den at dawning.

  Mixed media plaster mask by Kaleo Ching
  Head and partial torso,  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Ascent of Aries

  Father of all Earth’s children:
  yours are the heart and blood
  water and vessel
  breath and the song of day.
  You raise your head and the sweating dust
  watches the reed pushing through darkness.
  Your vigor parts the sky
  to fill the womb with life.
  You scorn Death’s keeper
  and scold his frightened souls
  for you bring dawn’s golden sun
  and resurrecting light

  Mixed media ceramic mask by Kaleo Ching
  Head,  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Ceremonial

  Headress of archetypes
  honoring those dead
  those with breath
  those yet unborn –
  a soul shared like ashes
  borne from horizon to horizon.

  Our first ancestors
  knew no race
  no war but survival.
  Hands learned fire
  dancing magic of light and warmth
  a secret to be whispered
  to their children.

  These flames are little lives
  leaping to heaven.
  As incense wafts our souls
  to meeting of earth and sky
  we offer humble blessings
  timeless prayers.
  Our spirits mingle in ceremony:
  from mouth to mouth
  the vessel of peace.

  Mixed media ceramic mask by Kaleo Ching
  Head,  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Crucible

  It has been your protection
  fed you like a bowl
  guided you like the full moon.

  What can you do now with
  parts sundered like earth,
  all her crevices and tunnels
  groping for the warm center?

  Pieces open like fingers
  not just grieving fragments
  But the softness of an open mouth
  releasing a whisper
  up the shaft of your interior
  ringing the walls of your throat
  to explode in the clear cry
  of a fearless voice.

  Mixed media mask ceramic by Kaleo Ching
  Head,  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  DawnClimber

  Climbing like a child’s awkward arrow to the morning
  I find a life new
  with curled yellow night-moistened leaves
  and gray vapors juicing pine branches
  green into autumn without flinching

  All that I have known
  mists, colors, seasons, hungers, longings
  now blending to this dawn

  Yet all distinct
  as the seeds that birth memories
  then fall back as hulls
  barter for the midwife dirt

  I find that I am not the center
  not of the cave or the forest
  or the earth fat to me
  among far off prickles of stars

  I am two legs and borrowed fur
  with gift and luck of fire
  and water fed to me
  from the tiny tit spring of a generous mother

  I am child of the blue sky
  that thickens into night to give me
  sleep, cold, demons, comfort,
  lessons in darkness

  I am moon’s lesser kin sharing
  moods, bad habits, repetitive journeys,
  the need to hide and to be seen

  Mixed media plaster mask by Kaleo Ching
  Head and torso,  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Deer Woman

  Deer Woman hastened to a trembling in her chest
  not breath nor banging heart
  but, ah, the quaking spirit
  and she reached in with her extra hand
  and plucked the polished Courage Bone.

  She held it to her like a cheek
  licked it with her tongue and dreamed
  – no, knew –
  she tasted blood spun
  through many vessels not her own.

  And now she lives their prayers.
  She finds her source running the hooved path,
  sniffs the forest temple, sweet with longing,
  feels the rushing in her throat – a river
  opening from the canyon's hands to freedom.

  Mixed media ceramic mask by Kaleo Ching
  Head,  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Descending Kīlauea

  I walk the crushed bone path
  eye to desert dirt’s
  ripples of heat, streamers of dust –
  life here goes underground
  lips turned downward
  as if to siphon water
  from the cauldron core

  Rainforest tickles without mercy
  binds my legs in tendrils
  is a child’s sticky fingers patting me all over
  but my mind is so bent to touch
  I cannot stop to fear the unrevealed

  Sea lures me to the horizontal path
  of irregular rhythms, cautious breaths,
  mystery sinking deep below my sweeping eyes –
  my first home
  I shall return

  Mixed media plaster sculpture (Elise's Thigh) by Kaleo Ching
  Thigh,  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Earth Prayer

  There are places:
  breath opening to a clear sky
  wolf tracks in simple mud
  sash of stars on black night
  arrow of geese notched against the string of blue
  sweet flesh flung from the sea
  and a long moment
  curled in fine white waves
  on the edge of the world

  I pray that it may last
  not just a raw hope
  slung and dripping from a dull wall
  but a pact
  to feed the ancient elements with kindness
  etched across the membranes of our hearts.

  Mixed media plaster mask by Kaleo Ching
  Head and torso,  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Ghost

  I awaken.
  He sits beside me curling
  from my dreams onto the blanket.
  I call him Ghost.
  In arms of smoke he holds
  a thousand solitudes and his eyes
  are misty openings to the grimaces
  and ecstasies of a universe of souls.
  He nibbles my ear savoring a moment
  the taste of flesh along his formless tongue
  then whispers:

  Listen.
  I am the wind who speaks through amber lips,
  the voice of autumn through the underwood.
  You know what that means:
  you hear the crackling;
  the frost is on your lashes;
  your breath is my mirror.
  Sing for your life!
  Sing into the gaping sky.
  Send your soul among the stars. Hurry,
  while your eyes are bright and your heart
  can still bend into the journey.

  Mixed media ceramic mask by Kaleo Ching
  Head,  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Heart of the Warrior

  The warrior’s heart
  is strong and gentle
  as thunder and quiet rain.

  Your breath
  soul’s fingers reaching
  into the vault of prana’s power:
  compassion heaves
  the rimless cave
  as sighs of humility
  ride immortal winds.

  We celebrate with you
  in wondrous movement
  tumult and ecstasy
  of body and soul
  through the canyon
  whose light is honesty
  whose song is the hush
  of steady wings
  unbending to the storm.

  Mixed media ceramic mask by Kaleo Ching
  Head,  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Hunter

  What silent bones are prowling?
  As dawn lingers on the skin of morning
  one moves without a shadow
  along the ridge that parts
  the breathing from the dead.

  Claws pull into flesh like drawn arrows
  while head points low at scents and sounds
  leaping from the path,
  tumbling in the undergrowth.

  His mouth sends alms of clouds
  to the still hidden sun.
  Few who speak hear Earth's breathing.
  But he of the wordless voice
  and spirit hollowed like a hungry craw
  aligns his very life with the slow
  heaving of her molten lungs.

  Mixed media ceramic mask by Kaleo Ching
  Head,  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Initiation

  You ride the back of night
  into the low hum of moonless wonder
  where dreams adorn you
  for the dawn of your man-making.
  You curl like a cub seeking a lost comfort.
  Even your bones house a premonition.

  Morning drinks the sky
  licking away the silver studs of darkness.
  Your eyes widened with night
  narrow to the summons.
  Unfed muscles beg for new power
  while wits gnash at fear
  crouched in crevices behind you.

  You must dig into a source
  forgotten by humanness
  but known to beasts
  guided by survival.
  Keep your name from doubt.
  Holy Man is calling.

  Mixed media plaster mask by Kaleo Ching
  Head and torso,  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Keepers of Silence

  Silence is a damp secret curling in the moss
  hanging there conjuring all things
  sharing only the rills of emptiness.

  Close the echoes behind you.
  Sidle on soft feet
  to sit at their table –
  other voiceless things,
  snake eggs and silent angels,
  ghosts and windless grasses,
  the crater at the bottom of the moon.

  Share the rim of a deep cup
  whose wine is not vapor
  but a knowing –
  a sea suspended above the shore
  like the liquid wing of the last dragon
  with tail in the navel of the earth
  and mouth wide to darkness.

  Mixed media ceramic mask by Kaleo Ching
  Head,  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Midwife

  Midwife says anticipation always ends.
  Just be vigilant as the dragonfly
  who uses mouth and legs to clean her eyes.
  Your time too has come
  to push into the light.

  Mixed media plaster mask by Kaleo Ching
  Head and torso,  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Nahele Lā‘au (Forest Guardian)

  She slips beneath the midnight wing
  and rides the black canoe
  in a wake of tumbling prayers.
  She runs the night-trail
  past quaking stars and amber dust
  past orbs of loam and water
  and their thousand movers
  every throat and eye and roving belly.

  Where she goes
  forest travels on its roots
  and none with legs creeps against the search
  no jaws swallowing
  no loins making little loins for future making –
  that forest may wrap her
  in its great green-smelling cloak
  to suckle her on whispers of its choosing
  then bid her tell them what she knows.

  Learn to lick the soil when you walk
  with legs like serpents
  feet like flicking tongues.
  Cut a sliver from your heart
  and hang it high to swell
  into a chariot carrying the light
  for the forest is a shrine
  not just candles glowing for the dead
  but a green sun breathing through your soul.

  Mixed media plaster mask by Kaleo Ching
  Head,  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  New Morning

  He awakens from smother of blankets
  to sprawl of darkness,
  eternity seeping through dreams
  to pearl on moon-anointed skin.

  To drift like a drowning on the tide
  is not enough –
  but to seek that island,
  heart tentacles digging into sand,
  a choking of green,
  a wordless call slung on antic wind:

  His home no canopy of stones
  but gateless sky
  where sorrow splits on the edge of dawn
  as morning-bird sings the wanderer
  to the foot of the new sun.

  Mixed media ceramic mask by Kaleo Ching
  Head,  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Raven

  We follow from the source to the river
  to the mouth of the great water,
  the great water whose sides heave to the sky’s end,
  whose eyes blink on every wave like stars,
  whose body is deep as the night.
  Who is friend or god in this mystery?

  I know many:
  hairless human, soul-eyed seal,
  otter child who never grows old,
  salmon with skin of silver suns
  and caribou who move like ghosts
  across the twilit tundra.

  But the Raven here prevails.
  The Old Ones say it was he who first made
  a world of love and comfort
  that knew no war nor death
  nor troubled heart nor vermin
  nor leaking boat nor pestilence,
  but then from boredom wrought his mischief,
  our familiar and constant mate.

  That same one, wise as he is foolish,
  in kindness and treachery
  accompanies the firm of heart.
  He shows us prey to share the spoils,
  summons wind and storm and sorts
  the stars scattered on the night
  like drops of mist on his obsidian wings.

  Some call the Raven a friend who is not true.
  But what is truth in the sea and land of the wild?
  It is not promise nor loyalty nor certainty of reward
  but a nudge that keeps our wits honed
  as the flint upon the arrow to pierce
  certain the flesh for the sharing of souls.

  Mixed media ceramic mask by Kaleo Ching
  Head,  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Recognition

  It is not mine to understand nor mine to give,
  a piece of joy beneath vanished hooves,
  remnants of the ancient hearts that live
  beneath the sandstone, an idea that moves
  your mountain. Even the prayer I send out
  to search the stars echoes in my throat;
  it needs wings, a moist mouth to shout…
  You know there is a choice. You know the boat
  that drifts among the tides and the heron: it brings
  fish daily and takes away the old
  and restless. When it comes the heron sings,
  no rough crackling but true songs all rolled
  into the wind and frog chorus. And near
  the edge the calm makes everything so clear.

  Mixed media ceramic mask by Kaleo Ching
  Head,  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Surrender

  This long road.

  Neck arching like the heron
  seeks
  through spanish moss on forest fingers
  the silver throated owl at song
  and larvae of the spirit working
  in silence to make a new world.

  Oh, fertile darkness
  where misery sulks
  a drunken shadow with no attachment
  while moist earth trembles toward the light
  that glows regardless of all suns.

  All the while the heart full knowing
  thumps its way to the pull of a hidden star.

  Mixed media plaster mask by Kaleo Ching
  Head and partial torso,  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Tribal Quest

  An impulse
  something like hunger
  stings the sleeper.
  It strips the gauze of darkness
  and shreds dreams without mercy.
  It prods the gut with stern meanings.
  The ousted dreamer
  knows –
  knows without saying
  that forgetfulness was
  a pause now parted
  and his heart-felt confusion
  remains forever.

  Mixed media ceramic mask by Kaleo Ching
  Head,  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Unicorn’s Brother

  White as the cloud
  that hides the face of god
  he enters
  thrusting awe in every heart
  and burden on your soul.
  He roams fields
  and flowers close in modesty
  and even demons let him have his way
  leaving you to sulk in earthy shadows
  humbled by opinions and unborn pride.

  You wend the thick forest
  and the snake is not so silent
  nor the cat so swift
  nor the big black bear so sure.
  Those who look upon your eyes
  do not bow to beauty
  but quiver at the stories left untold.
  Your home is not the sun
  but roots and buried waters
  and the path of him who dares to tread alone.
  And when I look into the well
  it is not his white essence
  but your bold face who meets me from below.

  Mixed media ceramic mask by Kaleo Ching
  Head,  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Vision Quest

  Earth’s firstborn come of age—
  oh, the lessons you have learned
  between her loins!
  Through ecstasy and suffering
  you survive to walk erect,
  death in your shadow.
  Truth curls from your lips
  and the grasses sing
  as the courage to heal
  is born from your prayer.

  Mixed media mask by Kaleo Ching
  Head,  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Vulcan

  “The God of Fire,
  the lame and ugly god of the forge.”
  “The ancients explained volcanoes by reference
  to underground forges and supernatural smiths.”

  Into darkness hurled
  you hammered light from the flicker
  of deep wrought Soul’s desire
  a half-dead self ruptured to life
  with passion to drive fear
  among immortals.
  Your offspring are instruments
  of well-being and destruction.
  You flare through crevices
  of half-made homes
  and fill them with comfort.
  You spill onto fields
  and track misery.
  Your eyes are furnaces
  roving among the least and best
  to glean sacrifices for transmutation.
  Your allies are heroes
  and kin of heroes
  your enemies the fearful
  left to stifle
  in the cinders of your passing.
  Have mercy!
  We will make a ritual to bring you honor.
  We share your strife.
  You quench our thirst with fire.

  Mixed media ceramic mask by Kaleo Ching
  Head,  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Waimānalo

  The sea is morning blue.
  It bumps the island like a lake upon a reed
  and nothing more.
  It is the mouth of a god,
  and I teeter on its lips with a fuss
  beneath the frowning face of mountains
  scarred and painted with dark glistening lines.

  I watch nets flung into god’s mouth,
  tough darkened hands beating and feet dancing
  upon the tongue of god,
  a ritual to bring blessings to quick fingers
  of pink and silver fish tossed to pant
  like tired messengers upon the sand

  Prayers
  to the loss and shared laughter
  for dead fishes –
  how big they are,
  how many they will feed,
  bigger by far than yesterday’s,
  and thirteen in all,
  an omen.

  I watch the first opening
  of flesh to sure quick knife,
  silver against silver
  upon a gray flat rock,
  and I depart quietly,
  empty of habit and opinion,
  ready for the exactitude of mountains.

  Mixed media ceramic mask by Kaleo Ching
  Head,  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Warrior Sage

  Align your axis with the heavens when you walk.
  Keep your grace down the long corridor of forgotten questions.
  Expect no mercy.
  Keep company with death,
  who appears swiftly to some, hesitantly to others,
  or unexpectedly as a lighthouse on the lost sea.
  Keep your promises to your ancestors, your teachers, yourself,
  those who seek you, the big heart of the universe.
  Build your honor downward –
  a funnel cloud spinning from the heavens.

  Mixed media plaster mask by Kaleo Ching
  Head and torso,  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  When the Rain Begins

  I say not to worry.
  One year there was no harvest.
  One night Earth ripped apart
  like the gut of a sick deer.
  One moment I saw myself
  in the eye of the Moon
  and I was afraid.
  Even she is being licked away
  by the black mouth of Heaven
  and next to her this life
  is a small dry stick burning.

  One year the Bear plunged among us mad
  and tore many lives
      before the arrow stopped his pain.
  I cried for us and for the Bear.
  One day Ocean came across the land
      to our doorways,
  took some of us to feed his creatures
  sent the rest into the mountains
  leaving new Gods among us.
  One moment I looked down the chasm of the past
  into the red river of my birth
  and readied myself to leave
  my children and their children.

  I grow old.
  Sun has clawed my face
  and Earth has bent my spine.
  My eyes are clouded moons.
  My ears are closed to song and terror.
  Lay me in a plain canoe without ceremony.
  When the Moon is hidden and the rain begins
  give me to the River
  to the whims of stones and currents
  and a violence that is natural and becoming.

  Mixed media plaster sculpture (Elise's lower leg) by Elise and Kaleo Ching
  Lower leg,  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Wilderness

  In the darkness grasses bend
  beneath the ghosts of bison feet
  and wetten with their breath
  hushed a hundred years ago.
  A wild cat screams like a frightened child
  past unseen trees.
  Perhaps it will not be too long
  before the particle of moon arrives.

  Embers of flames have dulled to dust.
  Little comfort there.
  And human flesh and threads
  and loosely tethered nerves
  are little match for steep intemperate night.
  A song hung about my mouth all day
  but now has stuck itself within my throat
  like a dead tree in the spring river.
  And the prayer flitting about my mind
  finds little hope on which to light.

  Coyote cries.
  I must find friendship in such a lonely gesture.
  I am a seeker of the stars with no direction
  and nowhere I must go except within:
  within the spaces among the beasts and heroes of the heavens
  among the stories and the million lights.

  Mixed media ceramic mask by Kaleo Ching
  Head,  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

Drawings, Paintings, and Poems by Kaleo and Elise

• 
  

  A Startle of Wings

  The night was black
  no star no cloud
  no glimmer at the edge
  no trickle of new moon groping
  for a niche to hang her shadow.
  I thought the universe had strangled on the light

      and the dark tunnel took me
  in clammy arms without a sound
  and ushered me to stone.

  My chest is empty
  my breath a memory for my tomb.
  My blood is mud that sneaks along the ditch
  like a shamed serpent.

  But a startle of wings
  tickles the cracks above my eyes
  as talons lift my heart into the hollow sky
  to send it searching for stars
  among scales of darkness.

  Mixed media drawing by Kaleo Ching
  22" x 30",  1980s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  All Embracing

  Through slender passages
  to golden throne of wisdom
  lighting darkness in soul's cavern
  peace advances, gentle wind
  seeking refuge in havens of the canyon.

  The search inspires the wind
  to wrap around the heart
  where it whispers secrets
  of mercy and compassion:
  Embrace self, embrace the universe
  for love is greatest of all wonders of the earth.

  Mixed media drawing by Kaleo Ching
  22" x 30",  1980s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Beauty and the Beast

  Earth labors to send the grubby one
  grown and moist and breathing into the light.

  Thunder from the throat –
  she crouches behind ancient trees,
  he lumbers to the mountain.

  Some say he descends at night
  leaving fractured fences;
  others say he straddles nimbus
  and kicks life-rain onto the back of land.

  She knows him in dreams
  humming the low forest chant,
  growing embers in his palm
  until mystery flickers from the branches
  and her heart crackles into spring.

  Mixed media drawing by Kaleo Ching
  22" x 30",  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Conscious Heart

  Moved by his body
  sheathed by his soul
  the blade stretches and flexes
  with the fibers of his being
  alert as skin across his muscles
  sensing promise and danger
  and the rhythms of heaven and earth.

  Sprung from his being
  as a warrior from the head of his god
  the edge glistens
  bared like the hero’s heart
  seeking the sky
  open to a will above his own

  Mixed media drawing by Kaleo Ching
  22" x 30",  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Embrace Tiger

  Wild tiger
  beyond the fire’s shadows
  come closer.
  It is time for us to meet.
  With your neck so firm but soft
  your shoulders strong but supple in my embrace
  we will travel over deep ravines to mountain peaks.
  You bring to me the power of your body.
  I bring to you the wonder in my heart.

  Mixed media drawing by Kaleo Ching
  22" x 30",  1980s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Dragon’s Descent

  From eastern ridge eagle rises
  pushing gem Venus in gold beak,
  dragging ruddy sun in feathered tail,
  looking beyond his night-mirrored eyes.

  Western blossom opens to promised glow,
  petal fingers playing the breeze,
  their melody a fragrance,
  their song a wish to unseen gods.

  From southern sea fish leaps
  at light in electric movement,
  slick as the current, tough as water,
  easy as cloudless noon along the waves.

  From northern horizon dragon descends
  slicing day with claws sharpened
  on centuries of legends surviving disbelief
  and a thousand layers of sturdy mystery.

  The old ones tell how the directions meet
  in a wheel’s hub of risk and danger
  with day and night and heaven and earth
  old companions locked in endless dance.

  Mixed media drawing by Kaleo Ching
  24" x 22",  1980s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Journey

  The journey begins
  through dark waters of unknown rhythms
  to a land beyond dreams
  where Sun spills colors in wonder of the day
  then retreats into shadows
  that Soul may know the night;
  and the path twists through ancient mystery
  bound in visions timeless as the gods.
  Courage, Soul,
  the path is your lover
  who has waited patiently and long
  and Tierra Madre whispers her blessings
  as she places the ring binding your embrace.

  Mixed media lithograph by Kaleo Ching
  12" x 18",  1980s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Metamorphosis

  What golden sheath
  could hold such a heart
  crying into the night
  like the silver-throated owl upon her prey?
  One wink of the eye
  and truth-beams dart everywhere,
  little suns along the windy ground.

  Hush. Watch!
  The pulsing chrysalis ruptures
  while the pendulum hovers at the end of its arc
  to reach its talons into the tyranny of time.

  Mixed media drawing by Kaleo Ching
  22" x 24",  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Taiji

  Pearl spinning
  silver in the sun
  at cave’s mouth

  Mixed media drawing by Kaleo Ching
  20" x 28",  1980s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Mother of Yin and Yang

  Roll the round egg in your hands
  Sing the dreaming song in your mind
  Time your heart to the pulsing star

  Like a lion in the forest
  tossing a golden ball
  to tree spirit
  catching it, holding it close
  as fur clinging to skin

  Or the river
  gentle into swan feathers
  wild into every crevice
  stronger than stones in its flanks
  licking them smooth
  shoving them with patience
  until they roll along its body
  sometimes clear to the sea

  Or sword gleaming
  in the sun of the warrior’s eye
  one with his body
  carving wind
  digging power from earth’s core

  Or stillness of heart
  sieve of lungs
  breath of core
  feet into ground
  axis into motion
  mind into cosmos

  Mixed media drawing by Kaleo Ching
  22" x 30",  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Mystery of the Valley

  A voice before the sun
  calls from the valley
  a source hidden by graveyards
  and buried by lost ambitions
  tumbling like thawing snow
  from the sheer sides of the mountain.

  Yet the message is clear
  as the lips of dew on the skin of morning:

  Water your discontent and watch it flourish;
  each yearning is a seed breaking clay –

  but, oh,
  how it hurts to push aside
  all you know so well
  for what you cannot hold,
  the flower still closed in your dreams.

  As you mourn the little deaths
  can you smell the jasmine
  before the rift of spring?

  Mixed media drawing by Kaleo Ching
  22" x 30",  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  The Great Water

  No way for an unsteady soul
  

  The Great Water is wider than courage
  current stronger than endurance

  The pilgrim looks beyond
  wet empire’s towers and tunnels
  froth and rage of the sea dragon
  deliverance of vision’s shore
  with a soul stretched between hope and fear

  Much to be gained by crossing the Great Water
  much to be lost in its depths

  Whatever lost, others are watching
  whatever gained not gained alone

  For the Guardians never sleep
  awaiting their summons
  homage to ancestral spirits
  chants etched in sulci of the brain

  The first motion toward crossing the Water is wisdom
  One may not pass alone

  Mixed media drawing by Kaleo Ching
  22" x 28",  1990s
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Ancestral Legacy

  You cleared the brush
  and laid the stones 

  Carrying your bequest
  and humming with your Essence
  we wear them smoother

  We mumble your prayers
  until we find our own

  We live the remnants
  of your dreams

  Then
  like the orb-weaver
  eating by night what she spun by day
  full and free
  we begin anew

  Mixed media collage-painting by Kaleo Ching
  14" x 12",  2012
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Ancestral Tides

  Waxing quarter moon’s
  long shadowed crater walls
  spill stories of more violent times

  Swan gathers bones from the west
  Hunter straddles the east
  Seven sisters and their kin
      prepare the solstice circle
  Saturn rings the bull’s left horn
  Equine wings spread across the night

  Holy memories span the darkness
  to sputter in the patient light

  The river leads back into black water
  lush black primordial mystery

  Around the bend hum voices
  muted, tunnel-deep

  Nerves feather to strange stirrings
  I hush and listen

  Answers are an oar in strong currents
  an eddy for resting

  I carry a fishing line for sustenance
  and wear a hat for unknown weather

  But guessing is most of it
  and I wonder what directions I will leave behind

  Mixed media painting by Kaleo Ching
  9" x 7",  2012
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Beyond the Chrysalis

  How shocking
  to shed your chrysalis
  and cling there wet and helpless
  until blood and time
  wind and sun
  lift open your imago wings

  Mixed media collage-painting by Kaleo Ching
  12" x 9";  2012
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Cosmic Buddha

  Big blue bulk
    sky reef
    indigo beauty
    star web
    sweet black dry mouth
    story-maker
    eater of the longest hour
    space between thoughts
    predator of prayers

  Lead me
    over the moon-tugged sea
    beyond the hoop of gases and vapors
    past borrowed moon glow and sun-white glare
    through the between-worlds place
    of the soul ripped open
    in the bardo of stars

  Home
    to the rough prickly side of mystery
    and the welcome of the only face worth knowing
    the one whose guises merge into
    One
    forever

  Mixed media painting by Kaleo Ching
  13" x 10",  2011
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching
  from The Creative Art of Living, Dying & Renewal (© 2014, North Atlantic Books)

• 
  

  Chi’en, the Creative

  “Nine in the Fifth Place means:
  Flying dragon in the heavens.
  It furthers one to see the great man.”

  - The I Ching

  Field of rocks like tiger’s teeth,
  cave of solitude to greet the dawn,
  or summit touching the perfection of heaven:
  the course,
  elegant, precise, and sure
  contains you

  To encounter obstacles:
  wild wind through the canyon,
  clouds around the massif,
  desert dominion of the sun,
  howling river longing for the sea –
  each hindrance an initiation in wisdom,
  each turn a rehearsal for the next

  Riding heaven’s dragon
  more awesome than easy,
  the task to stay astride,
  the rest is up to the dragon

  Even as he breathes fire to light
  the walls of the passage
  and smoke to lift
  the song of your ceremony,
  you ready yourself to fall
  into earth’s moist lap

  Mixed media painting by Kaleo Ching
  10" x 12",  2012
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Dark Passage

  The mother quivers beneath evil’s contorted face
  and slims the swelling of her secret child.

  In terror the fetus inches through the passageway
  toward the dubious birthright of a tortured world.

  A mighty task as a learned man to turn your terror
  into passion and purpose for those who follow.

  How was it in the agony of your dying
  to be tucked in a cradle of love?

  Mixed media painting by Kaleo Ching
  30" x 22",  2012
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Descent

  Ice sheathes black waters.
  Winter trails phantoms across the tundra.
  God speaks in silence
  sure as the seal finds her aglu
  and the white bear waits.

  Descending the horizon
  somber grey succumbs to the spoor of the sun.
  Green and brown undulate in beds of mist
  and moist fur sidles through the dawn
  in softness stroked by twisting scarves of vapor.

  Down, down, down beyond the edge
  to rims and tiers in every hue of sunburnt sand
  up and down the canyon’s ribs
  clinging to a sigh of precious wind and hope of rain
  in awe of every creature great or small and wild
  who savors life in each parched breath – 


  Who is it
  pausing here?
The red woman
  of the chasm of the heart.

  Mixed media painting by Kaleo Ching
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Down from the Panamints

  Death Valley.
  Named in summer.
  From under the flecked night road
  genteel winter’s sun
  slouches over folds and fans,
  a drugged demon.
  Our skin prickles.

  Risen from the distant sea
  bullets of sand pummel every skin;
  an exhalation scented with long buried dirt
  rushes the corridor of stone.
  Numb is the taste of awe.

  Cloud stretched from earth to sky
  begins in both,
  connubial liquid and solid
  making dervishes
  of raven, dune, desert holly, salt,
  while the embarrassed disk
  spies behind the pillar.

  In our steel cave we wonder,
  what about the lives joined to those prostrate nylon domes,
  or this evening’s tracks in upturned dunes,
  or the points and blades lodged five thousand years
  in spun packed twisted
  sand stone dirt and rare
  water?

  Mixed media painting by Kaleo Ching
  22" x 30",  2011
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Fascial Memories

  Each membrane, each vessel,
  fills the body’s album
  with the rustle of breath
  the chirring of heart chambers
  

  Muscles firm and release,
  mind’s case shifts,
  then softens
  

  Out of the glossy sheets
  and their shadows
  the lyrics rise
  

  Mixed media collage/painting by Kaleo Ching
  24" x 18",  2014
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Inner Sanctuary

  Soul looking for a home
  leaves the house of others
  for the community of one
  digs an X in earth's skin
  

  A seat at the center
  where death is met 
  and birth is known
  by a cord knotted, stretched
  but never broken
  

  Fire sits beside darkness
  in this grave place, 
  lights eyes like stars,
  warms hands in their mudra, 
  ignites a prayer to travel deep enough 
  to glimpse holiness among 
  the shadows on the stone walls

  Mixed media collage-painting by Kaleo Ching
  22" x 14",  2014
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Hānau i ka Pō
  (Born into the Night)

  Waxing quarter moon’s
  long shadowed crater walls
  spill stories of more violent times 

  Swan gathers bones from the west
  Hunter straddles the east
  Seven sisters and their kin prepare the solstice circle
  Saturn rings the bull’s left horn
  Equine wings spread across the night

  Holy memories span the darkness
  to sputter in relentless light

  Mixed media collage-painting by Kaleo Ching
  9" x 7",  2011
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching
  from The Creative Art of Living, Dying & Renewal (© 2014, North Atlantic Books)

• 
  

  Five Element Alchemy

  When we do Qigong, we are aware of the Five Elements within us, pulsing through our bodies’ organ-meridians, sense organs, tissues, fluids, diurnal rhythms, and emotions. The Five Elements nourish and support us in the environment where we practice Qigong. Metal is the Qi from the air we breathe, as well as the inspiration of the heavens smiling down on us. Water is in earth’s deep wells, her rivers, lakes, seas, rain, and snow. It is in and around each one of our cells. Our bodies and the surface of the earth are both 75 percent water. Wood is in the vegetation that surrounds us, feeding us fresh oxygen, invigorating us, encouraging us to grow, reach, and aspire. Fire is in the sun that warms us and the stars that guide us and that, from their explosive deaths, release the elements that form us. Fire warms our bodies so that Qi, fluids, and blood may move. Earth grounds, supports, and nourishes us, takes our old Qi and recycles it, is the home we all share.

  Mixed media painting by Kaleo Ching
  14" x 20",  2014
  Text from The Creative Art of Living, Dying & Renewal (© 2014, North Atlantic Books), p. 180

• 
  

  Follow the Stones

  Footsteps dissolve
  into wet cave walls 

  A seat of pine needles
  before the river
  leaping with tired salmon

  Mixed media painting by Kaleo Ching
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Meridian Flows

  Twelve times a river makes a day
  as silent synapses sparkle
  and the talking and dreaming of organs
  rap the rhythm of the currents
  running in their private cave
  

  Mixed media painting by Kaleo Ching
  20" x 22",  2013
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching
  

• 
  

  Healing Flight

  So much at stake
  and nothing at all,
  this life a candle
  in a chill wind.

  Incense spreads fine,
  disappears,
  a prayer ascending to heaven –
  who receives?

  No messenger rides this space
  that I can see
  but the envoy hope
  and the angel mystery.

  If only the edges of the sky had eyes
  and the blue mouth could speak!
  Still, love persists
  and fears no silence.

  The space among the stars
  may have me;
  my voice may turn to nothing
  in Your name.

  Mixed media collage-painting “Dialogue with Lungs”
  by Kaleo Ching
  11.5" x 9",  2012;
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching
  from The Creative Art of Living, Dying & Renewal (© 2014, North Atlantic Books), “Dialogue with Lungs” plate 22; story pp. 182-183

• 
  

  Heart Cave

  Lift the ladder to the cave beneath the heart.
  Leave the echo to meet itself. 

  Careful plans are confused ghosts
  scurrying to the shadows.

  Moisture shimmers down the ragged walls.
  Guardians tend the fire in the center pit.

  Gentle warmth protects the egg of passion.
  A million years it takes to raise an island.

  Who dares to harvest a cinder of power
  in the twitch of a star’s life?

  Yet, awe spreads through the still heart
  with space to bump around, gasp, and glow.

  Mixed media collage-painting by Kaleo Ching
  9" x 7",  2011
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Ka Lama
  (the Torch, at Kīlauea)

  Ka lama sprouts red
  in a mirror of fire 

  Silent owl wind
  strokes Pele’s hair 

  Earth trembles; we rise,
  brush ourselves off, amazed

  The tower is a tall pearl
  when the moon is full

  Ghosts of doubt
  flee the shadow

  Rainforest licks the path
  to the seething sea

  Mixed media collage-painting by Kaleo Ching
  9" x 7",  2012
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Lei Hulu (Feathered Lei)

  Out of the wide womb
  through cracks to the sea

  fire shoves and spits new earth
  into the raw lap of land 

  Steam tucks a sultry sun
  behind vast white wings

  as shadows flutter across
  a mother’s face

  Mixed media collage-painting by Kaleo Ching
  9" x 7",  2012
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Guardians

  Stars in black crown
  meniscus moon snagged on a peak
  whispering embankments
  hoots behind arrows of black pines

  Visitors humming softly

  Mixed media painting by Kaleo Ching
  15" x 11",  2011
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching
  from The Creative Art of Living, Dying & Renewal (© 2014, North Atlantic Books), plate 7

• 
  

  Pendulum

  It’s 1915, and my great-grandfather, Choi Süng-mo, is in his study interpreting classics and Buddhist scriptures, at the same time feeling the oppression of the Japanese colonizing his country, Korea. There’s the fragrance of burning incense as he calls on his ancestor, Choi Ch’ung, from the eleventh century – a warrior, statesman, educator, and poet, who killed with the sword, but also healed with wisdom and mercy. Tiger watches.

  It’s 2011. In my art studio, the white canvas on the easel is quiet, waiting. For a long time it’s felt guarded, not ready yet, wanting to be left alone. Today I feel Ch’ung’s presence. The millennium that separates us has collapsed. Süng-mo is there too. I cross the bridge between the ancient and the NOW. Tiger watches.

  The canvas feels swollen, fertile, inviting me in. I touch it. The skin has a bounce, an elasticity. It dares me and I jump in. Body and soul respond. I spread and lather colors and textures, then pluck, scrape, scratch. The canvas quivers and gives off a sound. Tiger and Bear advance, their claws opening to join in this ritual. We push and pull, rend the veil, turn the corner, sink into the mysteries. Into body and blood. Into the bodies and blood of warriors who were killed. One body, one blood.

  Tearing gossamer handmade paper, I plant the pieces in the heat of the canvas. To cool and refresh. Cover the unknown. Ride the edge. The yellows and light sing, the blues murmur soothingly, reds scream, blacks threaten. I cut into the flesh of the painting, massage the textures, then soothe with colors.

  Out of pain, where is healing? Vessels pulse. Blood pumps. Ten thousand joys, ten thousand sorrows. Meridians open. Energy flows. Pendulum swings. Shared lineage, shared remembrance. A messenger whispers in an arcane language. A presence rubs against the night. Wings of an angel, what do they mean?

  Mixed media collage-painting by Kaleo Ching
  30" x 22",  2013
  from The Creative Art of Living, Dying & Renewal (© 2014, North Atlantic Books), “Ancestors” plate 6 & “Pendulum” 8; story pp. 112-113

• 
  

  Senses to Feel, Voices to See

  A long arm reaches across the sky
  longing to touch

  Hush, hear the electric snap
  space is alive

  In apparent emptiness
  death shrivels in love

  Mixed media collage-painting by Kaleo Ching
  9" x 7",  2012
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Memories in Flesh

  From frenzy of two
  comes one

  From swathe of one
  two wings clinging to a body
  some call void or web or mystery or even god 

  In union salvation
  In solitude revelation

  Weaving between two and one and two again
  and more: our kinship
  with each creature, stone, sea, and star

  Mixed media collage-painting by Kaleo Ching
  11" x 10",  2011
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Pele’s Lair

  From namakani paio
  through ‘ōhi‘a forests of lehua feathers falling
  and roots dangling deep into Pele‘s tunnels,
  through sulphur snares,
  lei of ‘ama‘u,
  rainbow torus,
  gyre of the koa‘e,
  to the house of fire,
  Wahine-o-noeaheahe descends singing:
  ē Pele
  ē Hi‘iaka
  ē Hōpoe
  ē Pā‘ū-o-Pala‘e
  ē Wahine-‘ōma‘o

  The scattered bones of shrine
  make an arrow to the ridge
  that breaks into red rivers
  running to tempest waves
  then far into the deep sea mirror of the night

  Above, the great swan gatherer of bones
  guides the way of dreams echoing:
  honor the beginning,
  grace the ending,
  track your star closely
  following the stirring deep within

  Mixed media painting by Kaleo Ching
  22" x 30",  2011
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Portal

  In a cave
  ambered by a candle
  and dense with incense

  Seeming so still

  Who would imagine
  crickets of thought
  feathers of doubt
  relentless desire
  for a warm body
  bed
  or dinner

  Yet

  Through the cleft
  one glimpse of life as god’s vessel
  impossible to fill
  but vowed to be left open

  Mixed media watercolor painting by Kaleo Ching
  22" x 18",  2011
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Shen (Heart-Spirit)

  Heart-Spirit looks out
  quiet and brave as a hen upon her egg
  surveying beyond hope’s couch
  endless possibility:

  Who will pull my soul from her muddy cave
  dance with me around the midnight fire
  swim beside me down the spring-fat creek
  hold me in belly to belly embrace
  climb with me up horizon’s tallest peak
  to reach longing toward infinity?

  No matter the cave is home
  the fire an ember
  the creek dry
  the belly full
  the peak the path back to the nest

  Together
  with a pearl to hold up to the light
  is joy

  Mixed media painting by Kaleo Ching
  12" x 10",  2011
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  She Who Sees

  Who goes there?
  What my eyes do not see they know
  and knowing is harder to share
  than knowledge

  I give you my life,
  my hope,
  my ferocious love,
  my warnings, too

  Wear them like an amulet
  about your neck
  and when you speak truth
  think of me

  Mixed media watercolor painting of my mother, Kwang Sook,
  by Kaleo Ching
  11" x 8.5",  2012
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Into the Bardo

  Mixed media collage-painting by Kaleo Ching
  9" x 7",  2012
  

• 
  

  Spirit Gate

  Beating black wings against the window
  carnivorous beaks glistening obsidian
  eyes flickering like anti-stars

  I watch with dread
  both old and new as a ghost

  Noble spirit speaks:
  do not fight them
  but take the path
  to the crystal sanctitude
  of ragged mountain cave

  Stop climbing
  Enter

  Mixed media painting by Kaleo Ching
  9" x 7",  2012
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Thick Night

  Across the black meadow coyote calls
  and restless wind tussles limbs
  the silver-throated owl calls home

  Stars mate, gather, flee ever so slowly
  as sky stories tumble over each other
  through hours, millenniums

  So many rogues at home up there
  in almost nothingness
  among mysteries light-years deep

  I wonder
  in death
  what is home

  Mixed media painting by Kaleo Ching
  12" x 10",  2011
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Transition

  In the vault of darkness
  I have curled against the rags of heart’s betrayal.
  I have stretched into long wakings
  heart thumping at air
  dreams squinting down a tunnel of despair.

  It is over
  avalanche of tears having settled.
  Stillness restores a crumpled world to whole.
  Out of such a thrashing done the soul
  come cracks for filling
  new forms for seeing
  a peeling of old walls
  a fumbling of gateways.

  Light climbs the tattered ridge
  another day but not the same –
  this fearless one
  stripped of ancient wallowings
  and leaping to the dappling of the dawn.

  Journal-painting by Kaleo Ching
  7" x 9",  2012
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Voice of Stone

  Into red canyon –
  how many times a prayer
  skips against the walls
  before leaving sand
  empty as the last storm

  Mixed media painting by Kaleo Ching
  12" x 9",  2011
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Ethereal Thread

  The Ethereal Thread of Qi passes from the heavens above down through the center of your being and into the earth. Like earth’s axis around which it spins, tilted twenty-three degrees toward its plane of orbit around the sun, the Ethereal Thread is your body’s energetic axis. It corresponds to the Taiji Pole and the Central Channel in Taiji/Qigong/Chinese medicine. When you are in an upright meditation posture, like sitting or standing in Zhan Zhuang, your axis is perpendicular to the surface of the earth and pointing toward the zenith above you and the nadir below you. When you are thus centered on your axis, this channel of Qi through your core is most open. Your axis is like an antenna receiving Heavenly Qi and messages of spirit, and like a taproot drawing up Earth Qi.

  Mixed media painting by Kaleo Ching
  22" x 30",  2014
  Text from Chi and Creativity (©2007, North Atlantic Books), p. 171

• 
  

  Ancestors

  Mixed media collage-painting by Kaleo Ching
  15.5" x 12",  2014
  from The Creative Art of Living, Dying & Renewal (© 2014, North Atlantic Books), pp. 106-110

• 
  

  Divine Mother

  Oh Divine Mother,
  you whose bowl holds tears and prayers 
  and the split places of the heart
  in a pool of golden light and sound
  

  whose womb
  knows the pain of filling
  and emptying
  

  who roves galaxies and stars
  to bring us love and hope
  and the dark and light that bind them:
  

  Be with us now and every hour,
  a bodhisattva hooded in a swathe of glowing sky

  Mixed media collage-painting by Kaleo Ching
  30" x 22",  2014
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Life’s Mystery

  Forbearing as bone
  time waits
  like a mind for an epiphany
  then,
  where the winds meet,
  turns into the current
  toward the undiscovered shore

  Mixed media collage-painting by Kaleo Ching
  24" x 18",  2014
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Life’s Dance

  Gratitude waits no more diligently
  on comfort than on suffering
  spinning together
  on the cusp of chance
  

  the eyes look in, look out,
  ever searching;
  palms reach upward
  and are filled

  Mixed media collage-painting by Kaleo Ching
  22" x 18",  2014
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Pele Guards the Bones
    of the Ancestors

  What’s in a bone? 
  Memories.
  Private twisted molecular ladders.
  The invitation of a tool.
  A craving toward connection.
  One two-hundred-sixth of a skeleton.
  Blood’s arroyo. 
  Blueprint of form.
  

  The old ones walking 
  found a home between 
  abiding shadow of dripping forest 
  and sea flinging herself 
  at unrelenting rock, between 
  high white cradle of the first child 
  and raspy sulfur desert.
  Pele is a fierce keeper. 
  If you can stand the heat, 
  a nest of fire is a fine place to rest.
  

  Painting by Kaleo Ching
  14" x 20",  2011
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching
  from The Creative Art of Living, Dying & Renewal (© 2014, North Atlantic Books), plate 29

• 
  

  The Bodhisattva Vow

  Does knowing your tormenters suffer too 
  make torture worth bearing?
  

  How does prayer feel echoing against 
  stone walls adorned with blood-leafed iron?
  

  Why in the name of Buddha 
  did you elect this incarnation?
  

  For now, each life is a pelvis
  rocking an embryo of pain.
  

  When we all become bodhisattvas 
  will all we know dissolve in unrelenting love?

  Mixed media collage-painting by Kaleo Ching
  9" x 11.5",  2014
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching
  from The Creative Art of Living, Dying & Renewal (© 2014, North Atlantic Books), story pp. 106-110, plate 3

• 
  

  Chambers

  Great-horned owl swoops through our dreams,  
  rips the veil from our secrets,
  transmutes them until they glow 
  like late low suns from chamber’s eyes
  

  Out of deep silence 
  the love that binds us grows into a pulse 
  guiding us through narrows, 
  sinking floors, relentless night 
  until we meet, exhausted, 
  reverent, at the center

  Mixed media collage-painting by Kaleo Ching
  30" x 22",  2014
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Creation of the Elements

  He splits the milky curve 
  of unsuspecting skin
  She quivers and showers him
  with fine white powder of her flesh

  When she heaves against his side
  the whole sky trembles with new fire
  planets rocked from their rounds
  comets spinning on their tails

  What strange creatures
  balance on the twisting streaks of light
  free at last to journey
  from the friction of the night

  Mixed media collage-painting by Kaleo Ching
  15" x 11",  2014
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching
  from The Creative Art of Living, Dying & Renewal 
  (© 2014, North Atlantic Books), plate 23

• 
  

  Emerging Buddha, Emerging Christ

  Speaking in wild windsong 
  and prayers of fire
  that burn no flesh

  but turn it to a temple,
  out of the black tunnel rising
  brighter than a galaxy of stars

  The light persists 
  like an ember carried from the first hearth,
  not always known or bright, sometimes

  a dream visitor sliding through the night,
  a tingling along the skin,
  a whisper in the heart’s cave

  A promise to be for the world 
  vessels from which still pours 
  the ceaseless flow of great love

  Mixed media collage-painting by Kaleo Ching
  24" x 18",  2014
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching

• 
  

  Sources

  Ancestors dance on the dome of dreams
      like northern lights
  and shimmer on the globe of days

  When I join their long loop (for aren’t we always
  returning to something?)
  who will hear the pattern of my steps
  and the slow rhythmic tap of my deepest stirrings

  Up in the bare-eyed night
  near Andromeda’s fettered royal innocent thigh
  the galactic wraith’s two-million-year-old light
  began its journey to my pupil
  prior to the first local thought
  of beginnings or endings

  I endure briefly –
  witness and sometime celebrant
  to what was and is

  The tracks that are the loop
  and memories of the loop
  and map of the loop
  sing like ancient glyphs
  the story of the steps
  of those who made them
  and bind us like dark matter
  permeating far beyond
  the portal of the blinking eye

  Mixed media collage-painting by Kaleo Ching
  30" x 22",  2014
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching
  from The Creative Art of Living, Dying & Renewal 
  (© 2014, North Atlantic Books)

• 
  

  Fire and Water

  In Chinese Medicine the Fire Element governs the Heart and Small Intestine as well as the Pericardium and Triple Warmer. The emotional challenge of Fire is disconnectedness or hysteria. Fire is about intimacy, communication, and compassion. Red is the color. Red or pink light cleanses, purifies, and strengthens the Heart.

  The Water Element governs the Kidneys and Bladder. The emotional challenge of Water is fear. Water is about endurance, will, stamina, and the gifts of the ancestors. Deep blue is the color. Blue light cleanses, purifies, and strengthens the Kidneys.

  Blood tunnels through flesh
  like a river seeking 
  the strange deep sea-song of old wisdom

  Fire collapses into ashes –
  Phoenix rises
  like the sun from a womb of gas and dust

  Turtle strokes water slowly as a lover;
  Deer listens to whispers among shadows
  then leaps, graceful as wind

  Roiling and hissing like old enemies
  fire and water meet
  then stretch together, a tango of steam

  Mixed media collage-painting by Kaleo Ching
  22" x 30",  2014
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching
  The Creative Art of Living, Dying & Renewal
  (© 2014, North Atlantic Books): Fire & Water

• 
  

  Wood

  In Chinese Medicine the Wood Element governs the Liver and Gall Bladder. The emotional challenge of Wood is anger. Wood is about growth, motivation, life’s purpose, and forgiveness. Green is the color. Green light cleanses, purifies, and strengthens the Liver.

  Dragon scales are green mirrors
  of rage and pain and healing light

  What smokes and sears
  opens wounds old and new

  Where anger grows weary
  forgiveness spreads like a wise weed

  What destroys 
  creates, protected by mystery

  Mixed media collage-painting by Kaleo Ching
  30" x 22",   2014
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching
  The Creative Art of Living, Dying & Renewal
  (© 2014, North Atlantic Books): Wood

• 
  

  Earth

  In Chinese Medicine the Earth Element governs the Spleen-Pancreas  and Stomach. The emotional challenge of Earth is worry. Earth is  about nourishment, grounding, centering, meditation, and trust.  Yellow is the color. Yellow light cleanses, purifies, and strengthens  the Spleen-Pancreas. 

  Earth
  is a big womb
  plump with possibilities
  like seeds and thoughts
  bumping each other
  to emerge and drink the sun
  become fragrance taste color form
  like pumpkin
  rose
  nettle 
  fig
  and corn
  to be harvested
  and live again and again
  in body
  ripe body
  and beloved soul

  Mixed media collage painting by Kaleo Ching
  30" x 22",  2014
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching
  The Creative Art of Living, Dying & Renewal
  (© 2014, North Atlantic Books): Earth

• 
  

  Metal

  In Chinese Medicine the Metal Element governs the Lungs and Large Intestine. The emotional challenge of Metal is grief. Metal is about core values, inner strength, introspection, and letting go of the old (dying) and bringing in the new (renewal). White is the color. White light cleanses, purifies, and strengthens the Lungs.

  Breath in and out
  such a sensitive old friend

  Who bears us dies
  love and pain twining like a helix

  Old phlegm on the mirror
  a sign of burdens passing

  Senses open
  to the pure white light

  Mixed media collage-painting by Kaleo Ching
  30" x 22",  2014
  Poem by Elise Dirlam Ching
  The Creative Art of Living, Dying & Renewal
  (© 2014, North Atlantic Books): Metal