An act of love is a stone
dropped
into a body of water:
It ripples.
The world may be unresolvable
but
you can still make waves.
Ripples
14 Wednesday Sep 2016
Category Archives: joy
The ride
09 Friday Sep 2016
know those times
when there’s nothing to hold on to?
but the brain tries,
oh boy does it try-
it clings to the past, to the future, to what is wanted, to what is feared, to what has been or may be lost,
to what ifs and oh shits and
waaaaait what just happened?
that’s when it’s clear:
throw up both hands
– high into the air –
the ride
has already begun
Plenty
13 Saturday Aug 2016
Sometimes
one who entwined fingers with you through the night
departs as
quickly
as he arrived,
and kisses left on on the back of your hand
mark his passing.
Sometimes
that is
plenty.
Thank goodness
03 Wednesday Aug 2016
How is it your lips found mine
from a thousand miles,
in that sudden night warmth that wraps a person
in some late, dark fogs
while salt foam hisses closer up the sand?
How is it, stranger,
there’s familiarity in the creases on your face,
the new color of your eyes?
Proper ones on a beach
may never know
what every particle of sand and
hidden star understands.
There’s this,
now,
nothing more-
the breaking, dying, spinning, softening, flowering..
It doesn’t get easier, or more beautiful.
Following fear
knocks agony into coves where
it never belonged.
Thank goodness for wind.
Take the risk
21 Tuesday Jun 2016
A black and white world
hasn’t any lines to blur-
what relief to fearful minds.
And if a smudge
tangoes with reason,
snapping the bra straps of rationality?
Waters might move in,
fill bleached arroyos,
and offer liquid to dry, cracked,
sorrowful lands.
Take the risk.
Invite chaos to play.
Golden bridge
14 Tuesday Jun 2016
If dreams rise
of planting marigolds in snow,
yet the spiders that plague you still
have not yielded
understanding,
can we love each other in our differences?
While you wrestle with your ghosts,
and I with mine,
is there a golden bridge between us
where
the songs we sing,
the tears filling our eyes,
the breath aching our lungs,
the laughter erupting before placid waters
may join?
We mustn’t forget
how many languages we share
even without knowing
any of the words.
This body is my drum
06 Monday Jun 2016
This body is my drum
beating
inside out
into the world.
If your ears sense the beat
we both may
smile.
If your heart does,
we surely will.
Pulse rhythm cracked a shell
holding me back
from the raw thwack and rocketing yes
of unrepeatable
moments.
Hiding, shrinking, running dulls
music
all of us are here to create,
together..
Pick up your drum.
Let’s dance ~
Come,
29 Sunday May 2016
Come,
Enjoy this life while you have it.
Twisting guts or sunshine?
Nah, nah, twisting guts
and
sunshine,
the buried wriggle of new root,
a softening of shoulder and corner of lip,
a nagging thought, tremble of choice,
and a search for more.
More of this, of this!
The life pulling at your heavy heel
and
lifted brow in pure amusement.
Drop the weight-
it may not even be yours.
Direct that tender face
toward the sun-
allow light to bathe eyelash upon eyelash.
Bountiful plenty turns colors before you.
Bountiful plenty turns within you.
Come,
Enjoy this life
while you have it.
One day, she runs.
07 Saturday May 2016
In the dark unfolding familiar
and friendless place
where place began,
a necessary and
deceptive
seed was planted.
Nourishing form, forgetting spirit,
growing grew and suckers spread.
A viral overload threatened.
Silently
soil
fed
resistance.
Until…
One day,
she runs.
From sick enclosure out into night,
thinly covered,
taking nothing, no shoes,
she bolts in a snap of a now! beyond
hallways, doors, gates,
with pounding heart, searchlight eyes, flying hair,
bare feet slapping pavement,
escaping by back ways known
intimately as the corners of her old room.
Rushing behind houses, through hedges,
ducking limbs, all chance of observance
and grabbing dominion.
Outside the limits,
with no objects to keep her,
by her own deliverance
she finds
her true way Home.
Love’s no
03 Tuesday May 2016
Love’s no merry-go-round,
no sign up for the day and walk away thing,
no remembrance on Tuesday and a forgetting the other 6;
Love’s no yes-dear, whatever you say dear.
Love’s a wild one
whose hair, let alone heart will not
be tamed.
Because she expects the best of you, the most of you,
the oh you don’t feel like it -ha!- that’s funny of you.
Drag yourself to the ledge and peer over.
The view is not for the faint of heart.
Wishing yourself there is a waste of the work
your cells do without stop.
Come forward, rise up,
no other task is worthy of you.
Salt, Smoke, Water and Stone 