16 Saturday Sep 2017
Unsure the proper weight of memory,
this trough I built is full.
The heavy bottomlessness of water sucks under,
especially when it prefers to move.
Sensing an unintended timelessness,
I pull, twist, crack apart worn wood,
watch stasis become
a brook babbling its true and changing song.
27 Monday Mar 2017
Having never felt this old,
nor so young and inept
– and simultaneously –
well,
there’s a fence-crashing, a home-burning,
a finding-one’s-own-nose-on-someone-else kind of mess.
What is to be done with a tension like that?
Bear it.
Stretch with it.
Let be torn loose the decayed, the ineffectual,
follow the twisting into the twist,
watch new movements be born.
I guess.
Still, if I’m a living version of a mr. potato head,
could I waddle in those shoes a ways?
It might do me some good.
15 Wednesday Feb 2017
Movement
like rolling earth
after tectonic plates shudder-
It’s tough keeping your feet without
loosening up,
first,
and
laughing,
second.
Because when else can you ride
for free
anywhere you are,
with the benefit of losing
what you swore kept you alive but
only
brought you
down?
Go ahead,
remember the sound
of your own giggling insides and
jiggle a little~
20 Friday Jan 2017
A silence is being called.
Not
a silence of submission, or
apathy,
shame or forgetfulness– but
an emboldened silence,
one for hearing voices drifting
through cracks
and memory.
Listen.
Dear God, Listen-
a new way demands a creativity
well outside the bounds of what has come before.
This silence is gentle, receptive,
immensely strong.
Recall, from the depths,
how it is yours, ours, and
not.
Bones speak, be certain
they are included.
01 Sunday Jan 2017
The new year could be a prism,
a prison,
an ache and an embrace.
We just never know,
until at once a soft wind settles and we do.
Offer a kindly nod to the dark,
and an opening of arms to the light-
both will accompany us the whole way;
it is our work to acknowledge and learn from
the full spectrum every day.
May we remember to create Beauty
and move skillfully as we can
with the cinnamon dance of Mystery..
And, please, mind the tenderness of little toes.
09 Wednesday Nov 2016
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.
30 Friday Sep 2016
A rock stands in your path.
A big one.
It’s the same damned rock you’ve walked smack into countless times,
decade after decade,
despite the changing terrain.
You walk the mapless territory, silently, wondering… how on earth?
Do you go around?
Climb over?
Finally hammer the blasted thing to pieces?
Your choice, always.
Fun part is-
this time
your decision may be unlike
any other.
13 Saturday Aug 2016
And if the stars are talking to you
through closed sash and latched window?
And if the tree sway would catch you in a dance
were you only to step outside at dawn?
And if the thick green pond might turn blue
if you’d catch its eye while passing by?
And if the coyote call one ridge away
could reach your naked aching ear
were technology not wedged tight,
filling the cracks where nature could get in?
And if the ducks recently born,
hiding beneath the bowering bracken
edging the water
could gather your attention as you do theirs,
would this love affair ripen
and our wild and sacred
no longer be made into amusement parks?
There is a begging for fidelity here-
make this wild love affair true.
It is our one way through.
13 Saturday Aug 2016
Sometimes
one who entwined fingers with you through the night
departs as
quickly
as he arrived,
and kisses left on on the back of your hand
mark his passing.
Sometimes
that is
plenty.
06 Monday Jun 2016
This body is my drum
beating
inside out
into the world.
If your ears sense the beat
we both may
smile.
If your heart does,
we surely will.
Pulse rhythm cracked a shell
holding me back
from the raw thwack and rocketing yes
of unrepeatable
moments.
Hiding, shrinking, running dulls
music
all of us are here to create,
together..
Pick up your drum.
Let’s dance ~
Salt, Smoke, Water and Stone 