06 Thursday Nov 2025
Stuffy air,
music turned low,
one of two fans rotating slowly.
The black and white photographs of yesterday,
framed moments of distant, lonesome,
beautiful lands, suddenly gone.
A grumpy, dark-mooded barista does her best
to make no eye contact while handing drinks over
the bar.
Old guys with papers, young women with computers,
the morning still holds close to this room–
a strong, clean autumn wind begs
to clear this place out.
15 Wednesday Oct 2025
Posted in Awareness, break out, connection, death, Earth, Elements, endings, eternal, fearlessness, human, laughter, learning, liberation, Life, Opening, play, poems, poetry, rebirth, receiving, release, return, ride, Sight, story, time, visit, welcoming, wonder, work, world
≈ Comments Off on In circles
Time, in circles, rolls and spirals on..
we’ve been bamboozled and blinded by firm
starts and finishes–
Yes, birth to death,
but this existence is no line.
Pluck a stitch and you’re speaking with your grandmother,
dead long thirty years back.
Pick at another and your future babies,
whether this life or another,
giggle in morning thunder.
Our brains have been trained
by unnatural and convenient beliefs
unrecognized as such.
Put on a pair of enormous shoes borrowed
from a stranger and step..one
two three..
backwards to gather a new look
at the vastness of stories dancing about.
Teach your eyes to see the impossibly invisible,
what tires and confuses you now becomes,
in truth, a consequential but very funny
game–
remember your heart
and play it well.
14 Tuesday Oct 2025
When it comes to surrender,
better drink three hot cups of faith
following dawn.
Watch the light grow and, as your belly softens
in warmth, your eyes will braid upward,
adrift with the steam.
This life isn’t up to you,
not really, but the soporific of control sells.
Sit in your pillowed chair, stare out your version of
the sash window
and know, Mystery weaves us.
Our work is to listen for its music
and step into the slipstream,
longing and beauty our tiny rudder
within that flowing power.
12 Sunday Oct 2025
An acoustic guitar and a train track beat…
we’re chugging rugged countryside,
rounding bends,
wind streaming through open windows.
I think I’ll watch every dry yellow leaf flutter
and fall,
each flock of grass nod, swish and bow to the sun.
Sometimes grief’s a tar sticking in the lungs
and working to let it go means little
but waiting, waiting becomes the story,
waiting until it decides to let go of you.
The strum will fill your warm heart
as the clack-clack rhythm moves you through time–
be with what is,
it’s got its own magic, which you hold
and holds you,
growing in clarity, in beauty
somewhere on down the line.
22 Monday Sep 2025
Autumn,
time of longing
and remembrance
rolls in pale liquid light.
Yellows, softness, dry and sombre.
Mountain cold drops, magpies dip
and squabble.
Why fear grips me isn’t fully known.
Begin again, the season angles into quiet,
a blanket across empty lap.
18 Thursday Sep 2025
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.
01 Monday Sep 2025
Autumn grips with fast approach,
a fear, a sadness, an ineffective hesitation
in the cooling molasses wrapping us up.
Another anniversary rides toward its destination.
No keeping that horse at bay,
no desire to,
but apprehension sinks–
abide and wait, abide and wait..
with a little time,
it will turn itself inside out and
become a celebration…
22 Friday Aug 2025
Searching for words is seeking water
mid-mesa.
Not a tree in sight.
Blessed sage basks in full sun.
Rain falls, drifts away.
Soon tarantulas will promenade,
romancing their coupling dance
to create the next generation.
No, the words are water
and the Maker decides when and how
they drift or drive or well up
through this hollow reed.
Let syllables drip from the tongue unsought,
honey for those hungry
and in need of that particular soul balm.
21 Thursday Aug 2025
Posted in approaching, fertile, honoring, light, poems, poetry, prayer, seasons, transition
≈ Comments Off on Sliver moon pink
Sliver moon pink
in morning’s blooming light.
Baby raccoon sleeps, the Mountain presides.
Chipmunks race by, tails high.
Goldfinches feast on the generosity of sunflowers,
dry and nodding.
Soon, summer’s loud pulsing concert,
the countless crickets singing to Spirit,
will go quiet.
For now, warm nights still meet bare skin
and open windows connect neighbors
in their slumbering sighs
as the length of our days shortens..
13 Wednesday Aug 2025
Posted in ancestors, dreaming, generations, history, listen, poems, poetry, transformation
≈ Comments Off on Lit by fires
While reaching forward, we’ve no knowing
how far goes the reaching back,
our days lit by fires long ago.
The generations that birthed us here,
inside this present day,
the losses they carried and blessings
they bestowed.
What vision is ours, what vision has been given?
The living breath spiraling us ahead,
steam engine of our days,
extends behind us on tracks buried
by histories untold.
Ancestors are quivering the roots,
make no mistake.
We are not here just for ourselves.
Take ears to the stones, stories be talking.
Salt, Smoke, Water and Stone 