Category Archives: new

New

18 Thursday Sep 2025

Posted by in ancestors, beauty, devotion, grief, Healing, heart, history, home, liberation, Life, medicine, mystery, new, Opening, poems, poetry, question, shame, song, transformation, unlearning, violence, waking, weaving, welcoming, wonder, work, world

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Confusion tumbles out of us,

violence and shame, ever pointing–

over there, over there.

Look in the mirror, friend, we each must

consider our part, the veins of ugliness within,

ignored, denied, pushed away.

Wounds need care,

sunlight and tenderness.

Otherwise, they fester.

None goes unhurt, none walks without darkness

to be held.

Point not that way, and that,

drop the pointer all together.

We are a we, and in it together to reweave

an old, old decaying story into blessing and art,

connection, nourishment and song.

What beauty brings us here now?

What Beauty to be bestowed back to Life?

Ask the ancestors,

they know,

ask the ancestors for help–

healing takes everyone, form and formless alike.

Let the new story begin..

it breaks through already

in the most delightful, unexpected ways.

Wake up!

02 Saturday Aug 2025

Posted by in freedom, generations, Healing, heart, history, honoring, liberation, Life, medicine, movement, new, poems, poetry, prayer, presence, thanks, transformation, undone, waking, wind, wonder

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Wrestling with the ancestors,

shaking their tree–

Wake up, wake up! You have errors

you must correct.

Generations long damage still revealing itself,

this is not solely on the living.

Clear the way, remove the pall,

obstacles you unwittingly erected,

not the monuments you believed them to be.

Pick up a sledgehammer–

face your mistakes,

smash their marble facades,

crack the foundation,

watch them crumble and let wind blow them away.

Your legacy awaits.

Life needs to bloom.

Get on it!

Walking the long road

09 Saturday Apr 2022

Posted by in new, poems, poetry, presence

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Cracked earth and fallen cottonwood twigs,

bare branches sweep the sky.

Walking the long road, heavy trucks rumble away,

away up dry hill.

Mountains embrace this flat place,

mud walls embrace the people.

Shuffling along wooden sidewalks

with a strange highway straight through the heart of town,

I am a fish out of water.

The dust that settles behind my scales,

lines deepening in dryness,

may show its true face yet and whisper

a magic too quiet

for a busy brain to hear.

A slowing grows

and this fish can sense that breath is still possible

where the sun shines continuously

and rain gathers in the prayers

of the ones living here.

A place I have become

12 Saturday Mar 2022

Posted by in laughter, motion, movement, names, new, poems, poetry, the road, transition, undone, unlearning, weaving, welcoming

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A place I have become,

with no knowing where home is.

I carry home with me and in her, them, him I reside.

Words only bring us to the doorway,

imagination opens the door.

In this extended departure

the landscape broadens, roads disappear,

names change, expectation reveals its hollowness,

and desert mountain awaits.

A place I have become, moving upon this earth

without long plan, without people on the receiving end,

with nothing of permanence.

Laughter will replace fears and doubts soon enough.

For now, chasing details fills the days.

This place I become will carry me to the grave,

wherever and whenever that shall be.

In the meantime, feeding the soil, sitting with what is,

allowing for what will be, dropping off

assumptions,

and listening softening listening softening. . .

I want to know this place deeply and dearly

before I go.

If your love

20 Monday Dec 2021

Posted by in abundance, aging, break out, death, Love, loving, new, peace, poems, poetry, shame, the road, wonder

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If your love has courted you

winding and strong

to the door of Death, again, again,

ya kinda gotta wonder- – what

in

the

hell?

(An exclamation ! floowing from that question

seems most appropriate

but not in sting of a shaming judgement, No, no,

as it needs usher in a tender resignation,

an emollient of wondering in which

you slip a hand beneath that tiny bird,

approach slowly with soft eyes to ask,

how, oh how, did this loyal heart of mine learn

to love like that, to love those with inclination,

without qualm,

to do those things they’ve done?)

A new snail trail, steady and true, awaits

in this, the second half of life . . .

Opening the way

20 Monday Sep 2021

Posted by in new, poems, poetry

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Pot tipped on its side, dirt bits scattered,

monk man turned backwards, tilting away,

succulent rolled on pavement,

the one alive yet unplanted, no walls for its roots,

these greet me this windy, clear morning.

I suspect raccoon found the low bird bath

climbed on over and up

to wash–who knows what.

Funny,

since I’ve wondered about that nearly homeless plant

that keeps going

and thought I’d dig a hole for it once its neighbor

finished flowering.

Seems raccoon opened the way.

Righting things, welcoming them back, includes

reaching two fingers into less than dry soil

and joining the small green ones together.

Something new now can grow.

And that’s a promising start to a day.