Monthly Archives: February 2022

Out of the dissonance

28 Monday Feb 2022

Posted by in poems, poetry, question, slow, undone, unlearning, wonder

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God, how we fight, fight

to get our needs met.

Out of the dissonance of yesterday

today arrives, new and in flux.

Sitting with turmoil after a verbal attack,

I wonder.

Wonder at our repetitions of what has befallen us,

of the disrespect and dismissal,

bullying and belittling;

What came at me with heavy disorganization

and aggression, brought a new face

to an old pattern. What came at me at home

as a child

came at me again in my home

as an adult.

Only now, now! I could say,

there is no fight here,

slow down and hear what I am saying.

Having one’s boundaries blatantly ignored

and crossed may be

a desperate ploy for power

but I wonder,

might not power be the question at all?

Where rivers join

27 Sunday Feb 2022

Posted by in movement, poems, poetry, transition, water

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Where rivers join

goodbye and hello are fingers entwined,

one feeling like another in swift,

painted tangles and currents.

Waters from here

meet

Waters from there.

Confusion and torrent, swirl and coherence.

Holding on is a goodbye with wings,

watch it fly away~

Enter the River

23 Wednesday Feb 2022

Posted by in honoring, learning, movement, poems, poetry, receiving, transition, water, welcoming, wind

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A new movement is afoot,

with steps unknown. There are none.

Enter the River, whose banks

support you now.

Fear may be stripping away, removing the old,

debriding the wounds, a turpentine in the veins.

Let it be.

She beckons. Enter, and be moved.

You will learn–they will teach you.

Call up faith, rebuilding the trust you think

has been lost.

When ready, your own feet will guide and

root you deeply in place where waters and winds

may dance you, earth holding close.

In time, in time,

the Way emerges…

The open door

12 Saturday Feb 2022

Posted by in change, community, growing, home, honoring, learning, listen, Love, poems, poetry, transition, unlearning, wonder, work

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Somehow it is February and 79 degrees.

What a wonder.

We have entered a new world, mostly of our own making.

Turning back is a fantasy holding some together,

imagining it isn’t happening holding others.

Our earth mama talks with us, through us, always–

she shows more loudly by the year

the honest consequences of our actions.

Birds sing loudly on the other side of the open door,

more kinds than usually heard in chorus.

They bathe bathe bathe and chitter, twinkling songs..

A magical day,

yet strange.

Prayer flies through the open door that we all learn to listen,

listen and praise, find ourselves on our knees ready

for change that serves Life.

And the girl goes ‘Aauchgh!’

09 Wednesday Feb 2022

Posted by in poems, poetry, song, the road, water, wind

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Sitting there, facing a willowy creek,

alders tipping their heads over the pavement,

the girl goes ‘Aauchgh!’

It may have been because of a masterful song

warbling out my mouth,

‘Ohh the sheep dung’s got strong, oh

oh and it wafts in the wind, oh

sheep dung smooooke…’

That may have been what got up her ire,

she was doing homework in the other front seat

afterall,

but who’s to say.

‘Ohh the sheep dung’s got stroooong today…’

‘Aauchgh! Stop!’ She yurdles,

(not sure that’s a word, but she did it),

while holding back the quivering corners of her mouth,

trying very hard to be

s e r i o u s.

‘Guh, stawwp!’ But I can’t ya see,

because that dung sure’s having its way today.

So, the song keeps going and the girl keeps groaning

and all is well,

sitting and waiting under the waving alder trees.

Open space

03 Thursday Feb 2022

Posted by in change, poems, poetry, undone, wonder

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Ever fallen into the space you’ve created?

Like, sold the furniture, given away the dehumidifier,

cast off an extra dish, sock, bathroom scrub,

old toothbrush donated to the cause of grout?

(That shit loves growing a dark beard no matter

the effort. Water welcomes tiny critters.)

Well,

I have too.

The marvelous twisting ways of COVID

includes–demands?–tickles forth

sudden reversals.

That just sounds silly.

COVID giggles at removing the floor beneath your feet.

All in a day’s work for wee virus folk.

Sooo, here I am, furnitureless, floorless, planless,

hmm…less, less, less

is good.

And laughable.

In giant open space I sit,

wondering . . .