Category Archives: family

Planting Stones

26 Thursday Jun 2025

Posted by in Earth, family, generations, human, movement, offering, Opening, pain, poems, poetry, prayer, release, return, unlearning, walking, woman, wonder, work

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A fresh blood, now, runs from this wound,

dripping thick, womb-blood red,

to thirsty ground.

The trail follows me as I leave,

planting stones.

Each feeds dark Earth,

sticks weapons of their confusion, fast.

My back, low belly, my heart unwilling,

unaccepting soft targets,

half a lifetime on.

Planting stones returns

this deepest and cruel ancestral story

to the Mother who fashions stone into gold,

medallions for witful generations to come.

Flowers may bloom, cool waters may move,

Hummingbird brings those open prayers

to Heaven.

It ends with me.

I walk away into land of blowing dust,

with stars shining straight from the hands of God,

I walk away toward the fire

ever burning on…

Burial

29 Friday Oct 2021

Posted by in devotion, family, ghosts, Healing, home, honoring, poems, poetry, prayer, strength, work

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What’s it like to live the lives of the ghosts that inhabit you?

You know it well.

Ask the parts with poison in a syringe

ready to inject each time you step off their worn,

possessing and ever hungry killing path.

They seek–you know this, even without words–all light,

your light,

and they search with senses unimaginable,

like magnetism, or gravity, the tender flame

at the heart of you. And feed.

The very heart of you, the Spirit of you,

the stuff they, while living, could not tend in themselves;

the marrow of their being they nurtured with death ways.

When can the exorcism begin? How can you reclaim

your own Self,

that beauty and gift of which no one else is replica?

That’s in you,

still.

Reach for Her with every ribbon of strength

you thought you’d lost.

You are here, now, with feet on this sweet Earth,

not lost, no, only wrestling

with the ghosts your family left for you to battle.

Some warriors do not carry sword or shield,

yet they walk the battlefield alone, year after year,

collecting back the bones of those who were truly lost,

giving them, finally,

Burial.

At the Crossroads

12 Sunday May 2019

Posted by in break out, change, family, learning, light, movement, mystery, nature, poems, poetry, transition

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Tension builds

where the incomplete blow

as storm winds

toward completeness.

With worn boots and ragged clothes

after years in the woods

a brightness comes.

What had been too frozen to speak,

let alone move,

imprisoned by experiences of youth,

is warming with daily lighting of the flame.

Who had been silenced

who had been harmed

who survived by freezing in time

and not breathing to avoid giving herself away

is no more a fossil

a casualty

a repetition of a story too old to tell.

With spark, a light in thick darkness,

a new way forward.

Without knowing, or plan, or shape

to follow,

entry into another world–

full capacity–

at the Crossroads.

Where are the Grandmothers?

01 Saturday Sep 2018

Posted by in abundance, becoming, break out, community, family, honoring, learning, listen, movement, nature, poems, poetry, story, the road, welcoming, wonder

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Where are the Grandmothers?

With family torn, history unknown, stories never uttered,

lineage not spoken,

where are we?

We become dangling dolls, feet like bell clappers,

swaying this way and that with no ground

beneath us.

So utter.

Utter.

Utter your questions and longings to the Grandmothers,

the Grandfathers, the Sisters and Brothers who couldn’t grow up,

the sharers and protectors from the other side where

viewing carries a different, sideways, deeper,

beyond kind of knowing.

Stir the waters you can not see,

the current carrying you, and ask.

Ask.

Ask and the formations for you to hold and gaze at

reminding you of the support in the surround

can shape, at last, in the wet red clay

held by your praying hands-

Grandmothers, Come to me…

Flock

26 Thursday Jul 2018

Posted by in becoming, break out, change, community, courage, family, movement, poems, poetry, release, the road

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He

a sheep

like us all

walks, one day,

in a new direction.

Sheep don’t do that,

leave their flock.

In this he becomes a black sheep

turning away from name, money, easy street-

which isn’t so easy.

With him, now, he carries weight

of blame, criticism, and no one bothering to ask

why.

Years, many, pass.

His children grow, not knowing the stories he never told,

seeing him as just another sheep folded into the flock.

They wander for a path of their own.

One, separating from the rest, looks back

wondering

why he never asked why.

Broadness of day

26 Thursday Jul 2018

Posted by in family, light, poems, poetry

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What must she have done upon discovering

her husband’s sexuality

with their daughters?

At which point, what year, and how-

in broadness of day, in sneaking through night,

along whisper, twist, and shadow never confirming?

And complicity? Suspicion?

Imagine the toxins pumping, daily, through veins

related, betrayed, confused, abused.

Where,

its beginning.

How,

its end.

How.

Family legacy

28 Thursday Jun 2018

Posted by in devotion, family, loving, poems, poetry, release, Sight, story, strength, work

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Undefined,

perpetually assumed,

the answer to the question

of family legacy.

Is it money?

Name?

Philanthropy?

Power? Fame? Title?

Accomplishment?

Keep digging. It resides

well beyond the surface of things.

Might it be anger, abuse,

enslavement, enslaving, addiction,

a thick poison, barely visible

and acutely sensed?

Might it be secrets held, shames and generations of fear?

Likely, aspects of these remain

and are being carried-

whether chosen or not.

The question then emerges from distant,

unvisited places, whispered

as warm mother to sleeping infant,

And what would it be for you

to transform

such a legacy, slowly, steadily,

with loving devotion

so as to soften- just a little-

the burden of a misunderstood life

with a dash more kindness, and fist full

of intent.

Far from easy, and miles east of glamorous,

that work may be your simple, impossible,

and singular gift

with the breath you borrow

here,

one day at a time.

The turning of the world

22 Tuesday May 2018

Posted by in family, Immortal, Infinite, mystery, nature, poems, poetry, the road, wonder

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It’s the twist of a good story

to say it begins where it begins.

Because who is to say what happened first?

The lines we lead, roads we walk, families we form,

always

always something came before..

and during.

Land of birth, food of soil, light of sun,

books read, laughter lived, sex, music,

slumber.

Infinite details of the turning of the world,

and equally many perspectives,

makes knowing

a sweet impossibility.

The rest

06 Sunday May 2018

Posted by in abundance, becoming, devotion, family, honoring, movement, mystery, night, poems, poetry, prayer, presence, receiving, release, welcoming, wonder, work

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An initiation ritual,

in the dusk-scape of dream,

of shared finery, costume, camaraderie,

and non-blood family

emerging from here, over there,

here, here, there

unexpectedly,

for the me before me,

with a gathering of eager others,

to mark time with life.

Saying no, no but I am not she

not anymore

no–

But as beads pass over head, and colors add up,

layers of feather, bone, cloth

none mine

each display on this body

currently

a light in mind shifts-

not for me

but she

who may pass through, closing

beginning years, finally,

in step with those knowing when it is meant to happen.

Dressed, prepared, without doubts,

I walk the procession.

To celebrate.

To say goodbye.

To welcome all the rest.

That kind of alone

20 Friday Apr 2018

Posted by in change, family, movement, poems, poetry, work

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Nothing to hold onto,

the castle crumbling,

narrow a ledge, heavy the stone, cracking

walls and the mind hunts

for where to land

and it leaps to worry, no,

Fear projected onward, forever, helplessly.

Alone, like this, a sore eating away flesh-

and not real.

Grasping does haunt,

bite in and seep out, a rising fever.

But

it is a snarling shadow dog.

Sit,

solid, alive, and watch the demolition-

you’ve brought about the Fall,

soak up its awesome, fleeting

magnificence.