Can you sense the pebblesIn the road that passes byThe old tree? Hear the birds thatPluck away a few blossoms...
God of This New Day 1. I've gone out into the darkness 2. to listen to the silence 3.of this night. 4. I hear the wind rustling through leaves
Inhale the sunshine...
The sword without the s Back to Gallery
I am unlearning. unfolding layers of fear that have kept me frozen in vigilance.
it’s not my idea and yet it does appeal and affords new space for play from straightforward natural process
Yesterday gleamed like a pearl on a string of Midwestern October beauties. Warm air, puffy cumulus, wild flowers, and a field recently shorn for hay welcomed me and Henrietta for a stroll.
We ask What can we do What are the offerings that can be made
Butterflies playA long gameOver short lives,Ephemeral, eternal,Born to the swing
my grandmother told my mother, write nothing down truth was a danger but she called me once,
1. I tried to think of a title for a list 2. I talked with one of my oldest friends and got an idea for a new song 3. I thought more about the song, and I sat down...
For all of us who sleep in tangled and hard places For the ones whose ears are open in the deepest of darkness, listening as poetry stirs
I want to stand in your day Awake. Serenaded with your song. Abloom I open
Trees snow, seagulls screech...
Autumn skies whisper softly despondently
imagine a front yard
extending toward the center
of the street, twice as far back then
when this street was narrow
and still made of dirt
in a place named for rivers and wildlife
a sturdy facade belies a buckling form
how long has it been since voices and laughter
filled the interior of this now fragile frame
The last sign of the zodiac
The final stop in the cycle
It contains a little bit of everything
that came before it
at points rushing
and at other parts still
Not one or the other
but both at once
day and night
never a good liar
I am not just simply hungry for skin, but starved for it.
And not just skin, but touch. Hugs. Caresses.
WHO TOLD YOU YOU’RE NOT BEAUTIFUL
Who said it
Who called you something else
Something not your name
Who glitched you
Sent you whirling spiralling
Kicked your world from under you
Come out from under years of wading and wandering desolate looking peering in from outside longing wondering waiting yearning to be chosen seeing not being heard unanswered...
Let it in
this new day
strung together with yesterdays.
Yesterday you'd barely begun
I wanted to write a poem about a crucible,
a quiet vessel made of clay
that creates a space
that enables a reaction
The alarm goes off
I am flattened in bed
And in need of thickening
Or perhaps some shortening
To mix in and congeal
In the beginning, I felt so tight and confined. “It’s not yet time,” the icy winds roared in response to my impatience. “You must wait until the conditions are right, or you will perish before you’ve begun.
How to describe it?
Her components? HO2
As a substance? The most abundant on earth.
As an element, which is part of life, and therefor me?
Green is the colour of our fourth chakra. The heart chakra, Anahata. I always wondered why green, and looking for an answer I found it in green herbs and leafy-hearted plants.