Category Archives: mystery

Not exactly

17 Saturday Dec 2016

Posted by in abundance, adventure, aging, beauty, becoming, change, Deliverance, discomfort, freedom, gratitude, honoring, joy, learning, listen, Loss, mystery, pain, poems, poetry, receiving, release, wonder, work

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It wasn’t through torn paper

blackened shoelace

or scuffed wall 

that I found You.

It wasn’t the constant push

circulating fear

or I-must-do-betters..

not even the inch between 

the sidewalk and me

plus a bruised knee.

Not exactly.

Add the non-starts,

regimented dreams,

what’s-wrong-with-me’s,

attempts to fit when fitting fed starvation,

and the broken heart- birthday after birthday-

with one shattering

nearly beyond recovery

that, finally,

I found You.

The joke being

that I’ve carried You in me

since before the first sunrise.

Except now,

when I say hello

I can hear You answer.

Black

09 Wednesday Nov 2016

Posted by in becoming, break out, change, courage, Creating, dark, Healing, listen, mystery, pain, poems, poetry, strength, the road, transition

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Black

is every color

crammed

in space too tight for light.

Our sickness

produces severe symptoms;

Projecting our own shadows on others

will keep us from finding our way through.

With the box now open,

the last of its contents spilled

into collective view,

comes the greatest need yet

for- yes- willingness and

a strong stomach (as it writhes),

but also

a softening of our individual, concreted ways and

an enlivening of curiosity and connection.

Where we go from here

is up

to all of us.

Don’t hold on

28 Sunday Aug 2016

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Being sculpted

means

being thrown,

as clay,

first kneaded- no bubbles – then

spun

well beyond dizzy,

cut,

and fired to degrees

scorching

even by shuddering imagination

if 

your aim is to be a

cup,

vase,

bowl,

holy space ripe

for filling, 

able to offer solace, pleasure,

delight,

beauty, compassion,

ease,

and round reflections of sky.

Don’t hold on.

Be here.

In the dark

24 Wednesday Aug 2016

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This cracked and dusty pain rested 

in a distant corner 

season upon season-

never gone,

napping at most-

waiting

for a fresh split

to draw bright blood.

Not to be resolved, or

fixed,

but lived

in

through

with

beyond.

Yet again, it is not mine

alone.

I live it for you, as

you for me.

A new light breaks

in the dark.

Thank goodness

03 Wednesday Aug 2016

Posted by in abundance, beauty, break out, Fire, gratitude, Infinite, joy, lovers, loving, movement, mystery, night, poems, poetry, weaving

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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.

Winged shadow

09 Saturday Jul 2016

Posted by in beauty, break out, change, Deliverance, dread, fearlessness, Fire, freedom, listen, movement, mystery, poems, poetry, wonder

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Were I to cull a story,

cut off its wings to still its tongue,

would you be any safer from the past?

The chills walking your spine are not

exiting belief but

sashes and

passages of truth.

Words have no allegiance

once the fire is struck,

and winged shadow escapes, up,

out, beyond-

toward a second

a third

an eleventh

pulsing heart

with ears to hear.

Practice your listening-

what you fear most may be 

the balm of the deep.

Nowhere but onward

25 Saturday Jun 2016

Posted by in abundance, adventure, aging, beauty, devotion, discomfort, Expanse, freedom, honoring, movement, mystery, nature, poems, poetry, the road, wonder

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I have searched, reached,

spoken, cried, and delivered.

My arms have ached in fullness, emptiness

and longing,

my legs have quaked miles into the journey

with nowhere but onward

left to go.

Muscle blood bone

register waking 

like petals opening toward light.

What I now carry will remain behind

in this daily offering 

of God

back to God.

Take the risk

21 Tuesday Jun 2016

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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.