Category Archives: abundance

Uncorrupted earth

25 Wednesday Feb 2015

Posted by in abundance, listen, nature, poems, poetry, receiving

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An electric palm talked to me last night.
Piercing its feisty fingers,
playful dagger fronds dipped in hallucinatory intent,
through moon’s half cast of sky.
That crazy cat visited,
showed a thing or two
about shape shifting and trickster medicine.
She grabbed my brain
with her buzz.
Scattered stars and hairs of lazy clouds
sucked her dark light towards them.

Further along,
silent, unmoving owl watched
from telephone wire.
Stopping for him, I said hello.
He dropped off into flight
carrying my whisper back to the forest.

A few steps away, cypress
impressed herself upon me,
a pale barked dancing woman
held within rounded trunk.
Wonder and timelessness,
a patient grounded movement
through change-
like this old tree whose feet
adapted to growth at the banks
of asphalt
where uncorrupted earth
once collected water.

Rituals

22 Sunday Feb 2015

Posted by in abundance, poems, poetry

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He draws breath
through his first cigarette
close to daybreak,
and shuffles himself in bare feet and heavy
blue terry cloth robe
down a concrete driveway,
below phone line the pale grey squirrel travels
like his personal super highway,
to pick up the newspaper
and bring it inside.
I’ve never seen him smoke,
I don’t need to-
the perfume of morning shifts
dramatically
when his ritual begins.
These rituals, their shapes,
differ
and
appreciation arrives despite
our never having exchanged
a word.

Fading footsteps

18 Wednesday Feb 2015

Posted by in abundance, becoming, nature, poems, poetry, presence, the road

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Looping letters in pen,
my fingers contain dances
that my tongue is meant to spin.
But, without them, you wouldn’t hear me
over mountain ranges and
thousands of miles eastward.
This instrument will take the sounds,
twirling and swaying in my arms,
and transmit them through your eyes.
There’s a hunger that crumbs of words
could never stave.
Grasp.
Hold.
In stillness,
you know possession is impossible.
Let’s look not at one another, but
to the approaching terrain
wrapped in shadows of dropping moonlight.
The landscape will explain every twinge
these small dances can only hint at
through dusty, fading footsteps…

Even when entirely alone

26 Monday Jan 2015

Posted by in abundance, becoming, freedom, poems, poetry, the road, work

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Luminaries,
the light-gatherers who bring us ecstatic pause,
the people who’ve cultivated exemplary skill
at recognizing, creating and embodying
divine beauty,
honor the workings of unwanted pain,
their discovery founded on its gifts
of transformation-
that which possesses the hands of a master sculptor
able to chisel the lumpy,
the obtuse,
the encumbered,
into finest form.
What we call,
eagerly,
negative emotions,
these are the tools of our own sculpting.
Strange to dismiss and condemn
the exact movements that take us,
with attention and intention,
directly from coal to diamond..
Fear
couldn’t possibly deserve the power
we give it.
Weighing into unknown,
that abyss above which we think we’d rather dangle,
held back by the collar,
befriends mystery-
a sure-footed way to be a source of light
even when entirely alone.

An Invitation

21 Wednesday Jan 2015

Posted by in abundance, beauty, joy, poems, poetry, release, work

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Skillful communication
is exploratory, juicy, inclusive-
an invitation to scratch the ears of curiosity.
The delicious outcome
of reading lasting writings,
indeed,
the consequence of every artful celebration of life
I’ve been fortunate enough to stumble headlong into,
has been a bodily and spirited hallelujah.
You know those works-
they arrest us, grab, inspire and
open us,
they draw us out, tuck us in,
return stolen tears, stir forgotten laughter,
drop bread crumbs along our path to help us get home again.
Whatever our craft,
our creations allow us to give back
to an ever generous world.
Writing is my way of giving back.
I write to keep love in motion.

Between cemetery and resting field

27 Saturday Sep 2014

Posted by in abundance, nature, poems, poetry

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Birds chatter in the walnut tree,
here,
between cemetery and resting field.
Butter yellow sunlight crosses
folds of canvas.
Mortared stones warm,
church bell rings.
The beagle’s collar jingles
as he circles a man-
hand-knit brown wool sweater,
dark trousers,
rifle hanging down from his shoulder-
slowly walking.
Today,
a hunt for rabbit and pheasant.
Through the open door,
a woman’s voice rises in song.

Purging Ghosts

11 Thursday Sep 2014

Posted by in abundance, discomfort, learning, lovers, poems, poetry

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Purging ghosts.
Remains unknown.
Before the honest untangling
and exit, lies
sorrowful lies told and unquestioned.
Growing up isn’t quick,
or clean.
Longing tugs,
yearning twists.
And in the great redefining
of love
comes a self-mastery
more valuable than all treasures
sought and killed for.
My heart was yours,
our gentle laying natural and,
for you,
too unfamiliar.
Can’t hold the gifts,
passionate or otherwise,
without the water passing through the spaces.
Other waves,
long ago risen,
must also present themselves
in salt prisms and opalescence.
Where, after all,
would the sun set without definition?
Gaze upon that changing horizon line…