Category Archives: release

In circles

15 Wednesday Oct 2025

Posted by 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

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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.

A little time

01 Monday Sep 2025

Posted by in approaching, Autumn, endings, fear, history, honoring, human, Immortal, loving, medicine, poems, poetry, rebirth, receiving, release, return, ride, seasons, slow, time, transition, welcoming

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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…

Planting Stones

26 Thursday Jun 2025

Posted by in Earth, family, generations, human, movement, offering, Opening, pain, poems, poetry, prayer, release, return, unlearning, walking, woman, wonder, work

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A fresh blood, now, runs from this wound,

dripping thick, womb-blood red,

to thirsty ground.

The trail follows me as I leave,

planting stones.

Each feeds dark Earth,

sticks weapons of their confusion, fast.

My back, low belly, my heart unwilling,

unaccepting soft targets,

half a lifetime on.

Planting stones returns

this deepest and cruel ancestral story

to the Mother who fashions stone into gold,

medallions for witful generations to come.

Flowers may bloom, cool waters may move,

Hummingbird brings those open prayers

to Heaven.

It ends with me.

I walk away into land of blowing dust,

with stars shining straight from the hands of God,

I walk away toward the fire

ever burning on…

Mettle

02 Thursday Jan 2025

Posted by in abundance, approaching, beauty, becoming, companion, courage, dark, devotion, discomfort, dreaming, fertile, food, Found, freedom, human, Love, loving, medicine, movement, night, offering, Opening, pain, poems, poetry, prayer, presence, receiving, release, return, storm, water, welcoming, wonder, work

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Withstand the Void.

Please.

Be upon your own two small feet,

at the edge,

darkness cloud-forming,

ledge a tipping perch.

Night ocean crashes on rock straight below,

the rhythmic waters moon-guided, rich and dangerous.

Call forth in echoless open and

wait,

the wind will snap and take it up.

Let the Void offer

all your fears, inadequacies, foolishness,

rage, grief, shame and sorrows.

Be with them.

Sense their intolerable

movements in your one body–

these are the monsters

you are to marry.

In union, living through and beyond

your exiled, an invitation

to what Beauty is yours deeply,

the gift to be offered back.

Leave no aspect behind–

you are here to love the denied.

Blood needs circulate.

Bones need grow. Air must enter.

Bring the outcasts and castaways under

warmth of your grand cloak.

Allow them refuge of your beating heart.

Welcome the unwanted,

a feast-filled table is set to feed everything

in dawn of this new year.

Shadow

29 Thursday Jun 2023

Posted by in community, movement, poems, poetry, rebirth, receiving, release, return, shame, transformation, welcoming, wonder, work

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Wrestle your shadow until sweaty and limp,

stand up,

press powder to forehead and cheek,

adjust pants and what’s in them–

whichever or both or none–

but set yourself right for the outer world to see

that nothing is happening, not a thing is at stake

and amble down the road as if not fully consumed

by what you almost let slip.

Your badness, your weakness, childishness and

ugliness and incompetence.

Tattered cloth, disheveled hair

they give you away but more

the look

on your face

of shame, perhaps shrouded in pride,

with taste of bile

flooding your tongue

Ah!

What effort and energy wasted

on the inevitable.

Rather than hide and deny,

cover up and clean up,

try turning,

turning toward your shadow in greeting..

Soften instead of wrestle,

invite instead of deny,

look gently, giggle and come to know…

in the folds of great being–wonders and understandings,

unexpected magics and compassion.

Light, dark, braided.

Depth.

Beautiful.

Shining the dull parts

27 Sunday Jun 2021

Posted by in poems, poetry, release, song, water, wind

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Last I wrote, a river–the River–spoke of pain

guiding the carving of your banks,

erosion of soils meant to flush and drift,

to migrate and feed downstream, freed up

to do work really intended,

as it exposes rock, the talking stones

holding spirit to place.

It didn’t get much traction.

Today, I can offer that that River isn’t all water,

but Wind

and Song…

Twitterings rise from the bathing towhee

utterly beheld in the flesh reaching waters

from where she sings and wiggles

every noodley wet feather, bone and muscle.

From tub to branch she flits, rubbing (always)

her beak first–this side then that–

and shakes complete giggling pleasure,

full release, refreshed.

That, too, is the River, the Wind, the Song.

Somehow the unrelenting ache brings you there, too,

shining the dull parts

in a reflection of glory.

Along the long road

16 Wednesday Oct 2019

Posted by in aging, becoming, change, community, death, home, learning, Loss, poems, poetry, release, the road, work

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Without a story to tell

who are we but people who have not lived.

Watching children play,

approaching hand in parent’s hand

to a park that is my front yard,

Spirit

is restored.

Sliver by sliver

and dose by dose.

While now there are trees that whisper and swish

in every kind of wind

instead of uninterrupted concrete and destructive voices,

I have the long view

knowing what it is to live between rage and despair.

And I don’t like who it made me.

Sometimes I realize,

when before I could not,

we may become who we do not want to be

simply to return, along the long road,

to who we are.

Where lies

26 Sunday Aug 2018

Posted by in abundance, beauty, becoming, break out, change, community, courage, crafting, Creating, devotion, dreams, freedom, honoring, listen, movement, nature, poems, poetry, prayer, release, song, stillness, welcoming, wonder, work

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If a push,

somewhere a pull.

Where taken,

pray it has been given.

The Western sense of community..

in itself a paradox?

We’re part–everyone–of centuries of history

cycling, tumbling, molasses-thick onward

with nanosecond “advances.”

No mystery that you, and you, and I

can not seem to catch our breath.

Faster is not forward,

as bigger not better, nor more money success.

Where lies the soul stuff making life

Life?