Category Archives: movement

Work of the chrysalis

27 Sunday May 2018

Posted by in beauty, becoming, change, discomfort, flight, movement, mystery, nature, poems, poetry, transition, work

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The transformed steals the love-light,

not for greed

but for our preference.

What’s left behind in grit and dust,

even discarded in rank alleyways,

is the work of the chrysalis.

The

cramped

confused

identity-erasing

dark

of wrestling for the next life form,

of flight,

of nectar,

of tumbling in gravity’s wave

among flowers, bees and blue.

Remember what beauty lies in ugliness

before walking away from the misunderstood.

A fire, a wave, a mountain

23 Wednesday May 2018

Posted by in becoming, break out, change, courage, discomfort, dread, fear, Fire, home, learning, movement, poems, poetry, work

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The basements, bathrooms, shrouded corners,

narrow, black to seem endless, alleys,

the Do-Not-Enters,

these are the intended places.

Go to them.

What courage lies docile and low

will rise up, a fire, a wave, a mountain

to have your back even as growing fear

dissolves

what you think holds you together.

At the door

15 Tuesday May 2018

Posted by in adventure, community, friends, listen, movement, mundane, nature, poems, poetry, the road, welcoming, words

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A kitten knocks at the door.

In truth, a word behaving like a kitten,

soft, sweet, riled

from chasing a baby squirrel along the avenue.

Baby tore across the asphalt, tail barking,

no visible sign of what gave chase.

Course, words are like that,

and now one has followed me home.

A fur-lined nook between the armrest and my hip

awaits her.

Curious what mischief we can achieve today.

But first,

a short nap.

Stumbling

10 Thursday May 2018

Posted by in change, listen, movement, Music, poems, poetry, receiving, release, the road, welcoming

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Stumbling,

having missed a pebble for the story in your head,

breaks the monotone

in favor of dripping notes tangled, soft,

attentive.

Dipping into that honey, the stream beneath the firehose flow,

entices a hidden music into the aching

and sharp places, wounded from too much narrow focus.

Broadening,

that song- touched by your welcome-

changes things.

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.

Clearing the pasture

17 Tuesday Apr 2018

Posted by in aging, change, community, home, movement, poems, poetry, the road

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I’m surrounded by endings here.

And I came back,

came back

to where what can grow

I don’t know.

The ties, bindings, wrappings and scenarios

they’re old,

done, hardened and strange.

Perhaps the ghosts need herding,

finally clearing the pasture for

what belongs beneath this patch of sky

of salt, and pine, cypress and stone.

Too much concrete dulls the senses-

Sun aches to touch earth,

it may be my time to help her do so.

Passing by at any hour

15 Sunday Apr 2018

Posted by in beauty, movement, nature, poems, poetry, welcoming

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Beauty is

bird suspended, waves breaking one

in to another,

hills woven of shoulders, hips, toes,

clouds sliding across blue..

It is not the

must possess, perfect, expensive, mechanical conquest

mine,

but

connection, relationship, tangle of bouncing language, laughter song around the twilighted corner, and

being followed softly home.

How did we confuse it with a thing to buy,

an object to have,

a keeping to be kept by?

She tells her own story,

never upon command, and

if meaning vanishes the crease between our brow,

planting our feet more firmly on this earth,

we are in her Presence, an arrival of moments

passing by at any hour.

Sitting in the ashes

18 Sunday Mar 2018

Posted by in becoming, change, courage, learning, movement, poems, poetry, Sight, strength, work

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And what are those skills

sitting,

unkempt, ignored, without mastery,

in the ashes

much as you’d like to abandon them there?

Only your gifts, the spells and support

needed, castable with no other’s voice or hands,

the workings for which you were born to suffer

and give.

Step, rich and slow, into your place.

A gyre of vultures, forty strong,

turns ’round at the base of the mountain

pushing remembrance of how small

you’ve been playing it, and

how large you now must be.