07 Tuesday Apr 2015
Wind rocks the trees
at last.
They’ve been asking when
they’d get to dance,
and only flirtations greeted their longing.
Rain wets singing birds,
the sound enters darkened sky.
Singing in a storm-
fruition of a lifetime’s work.
The invitation is always there.
15 Sunday Mar 2015
You call my name
when I go to that place I don’t understand,
the one where the word for terror was unknown.
Your firm, tender voice reaches in,
helps pull me out
of history that feels like a drowning.
Reclamation becomes devotion.
New birds continue to perch on the tree,
a proof the threatening waters
did not claim me.
When you call, I return
from somewhere losing its strength
to possess.
Difficult to say,
but I couldn’t do this alone.
I hear you call,
Thank you.
16 Monday Feb 2015
I needn’t reach out from here,
the entire world can come to me.
Body slung comfortably
between eight agile legs,
I sense your presence
long before you know of mine.
Quivers of silver silk
transmute movement
into knowledge,
informing my scuttle towards,
or away.
Deep in this dark protected place,
I gather silence
and watch.
Light drops in,
lifting me up
if I want to visit day.
But people fear me,
little me.
Tucking myself away
with my abilities
feeds a hunger for solitude.
14 Saturday Feb 2015
In the dissonance of debate,
Now or Then,
the neural net catches me,
catches me.
I am the ball,
bouncing,
finding flight, then falling.
Breath runs from here.
The decision, made, not to chase it.
Carried forward in blind twists,
I trust.
I trust the flashes and twitching
are informants of a coming world,
a less mirrored place encompassing
what was,
a daisy-chain of stars,
within what is,
a popping wildflowered celestial body.
The road is serpentine,
its body thin, fast, intricately patterned.
And I follow,
I follow.
06 Friday Feb 2015
Walking away,
woman with half face stands
where I’d been,
calling me to her in stolid silence.
She, an anatomical waning moon,
skin missing.
Her muscles and unprotected eye,
blood vessels and nerves and skull,
within her wholeness,
watch-
calling me back.
I turn, meet her eyes,
and approach her knowing,
nothing but this, nothing but this.
26 Monday Jan 2015
Luminaries,
the light-gatherers who bring us ecstatic pause,
the people who’ve cultivated exemplary skill
at recognizing, creating and embodying
divine beauty,
honor the workings of unwanted pain,
their discovery founded on its gifts
of transformation-
that which possesses the hands of a master sculptor
able to chisel the lumpy,
the obtuse,
the encumbered,
into finest form.
What we call,
eagerly,
negative emotions,
these are the tools of our own sculpting.
Strange to dismiss and condemn
the exact movements that take us,
with attention and intention,
directly from coal to diamond..
Fear
couldn’t possibly deserve the power
we give it.
Weighing into unknown,
that abyss above which we think we’d rather dangle,
held back by the collar,
befriends mystery-
a sure-footed way to be a source of light
even when entirely alone.
21 Wednesday Jan 2015
Skillful communication
is exploratory, juicy, inclusive-
an invitation to scratch the ears of curiosity.
The delicious outcome
of reading lasting writings,
indeed,
the consequence of every artful celebration of life
I’ve been fortunate enough to stumble headlong into,
has been a bodily and spirited hallelujah.
You know those works-
they arrest us, grab, inspire and
open us,
they draw us out, tuck us in,
return stolen tears, stir forgotten laughter,
drop bread crumbs along our path to help us get home again.
Whatever our craft,
our creations allow us to give back
to an ever generous world.
Writing is my way of giving back.
I write to keep love in motion.
27 Monday Oct 2014
Eight nimble legs stretch
across my face,
skitter quickly past,
beneath an unknown corner
of warm morning covers.
Shiny
Black
Fast
Poisonous
Repeated visitations
since birth
leaving me in the dark,
until now.
I am she.
Choosing the quiet places
to be master architect
of my own home.
Delicate by design
Agile
Solitary
Capable
Strong
Graceful,
her qualities, welcome,
especially when facing fears
quick and dangerous-
biting only
when unseen,
and uncared for.
Mind the delicate ones,
their power remains hidden
until needed.
20 Monday Oct 2014
The pain life delivers carves us out, making space for an unalterable joy and a shareable wisdom, riches fed by both understanding and gratitude. If we let fear dam that transformative river, we can not embody our own power or light. The photographer not wanting to be seen, the poet feeling unheard, the model believing herself ugly, the lawyer not finding justice in her own life- we learn through what draws us. Within our challenges lie our gifts, and what seems a curse is often our blessing. Can’t walk the line without seeing ourselves and with undeveloped sight we are sleepwalking- lost not only to ourselves but to the world. Without celebrating our own Being the world becomes a little dimmer. By looking into the pain, whatever it may be, and sitting with the fear, we can rise above what diminishes us, and expand into being deeply present, inspired, spirited, instinctual, intuitive and alive. Let that be the enviable courage.
12 Friday Sep 2014
Were her voice
silenced
the medicine of Silence
would stop at the sand on which it breaks,
the drum of night unable to find its way
from heartbeat past her lips..
Our shore is one and the same,
the Ocean
our origin and return…
For the ears attuned
the music will be heard,
again and again
dancing bodies will join,,
The rugged journey along coastline and mountain ridge
not
for naught.
From formless to form
we are instrument.
Standing on peak and cliff,
we are moved.
Salt, Smoke, Water and Stone 