01 Wednesday Apr 2026
The stirrings in me
are the stirrings in You,
a thread binding us that vision can not seek yet
heart and belly play, both, as one instrument
of longing.
Call up my voice,
that which is Yours
and sing,
sing,
sing
through me…
02 Saturday Aug 2025
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!
04 Friday Jul 2025
Wetness of the earth
after night’s sudden and generous rain
settles the sharp dust of hard happenings.
Sleep came long and heavy,
dreaming ridding a poison too old to name.
Bless the waters
and millions of emergent stars hitched
to an approaching clear darkness.
22 Saturday Jan 2022
And how death does remind us,
You
are alive.
On this new day he is no more.
Thank you, Thich Nhat Hanh.
19 Sunday Sep 2021
Once there was a man
who stood tall at the head of the room
teaching numbers; he greeted us at the door
as we entered each day
and he called me Hope. But
it was longer and flowing and in
another language more musical.
He’d switched an a to an e in there,
making it a song closer to my birth name, somehow.
No one had ever called me Hope, only him. And,
truth be, it wasn’t exactly hope, but a name somewhere between
mine and more.
Between what is and what becomes, approaching without end.
Something between.
The man who taught numbers, years after I knew him,
he killed himself. The exact place where always now
enfolds him.
The man who called out Hope,
his pain outlived him.
My tears and thanks fall towards him today.
18 Wednesday Nov 2020
Ever
read a book
and find yourself
stroking the page while tears drop,
uttering, “God, I love you,”
and wanting to wrap that author up in your arms
to say,
Thanks?
Today is like that.
Not sure how it is to relate with actual humans
but books,
books do walk along beside
between the breathing, the hefting, the washing
and all
the
rest.
Salt, Smoke, Water and Stone 