A place I have become

12 Saturday Mar 2022

Posted by in laughter, motion, movement, names, new, poems, poetry, the road, transition, undone, unlearning, weaving, welcoming

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A place I have become,

with no knowing where home is.

I carry home with me and in her, them, him I reside.

Words only bring us to the doorway,

imagination opens the door.

In this extended departure

the landscape broadens, roads disappear,

names change, expectation reveals its hollowness,

and desert mountain awaits.

A place I have become, moving upon this earth

without long plan, without people on the receiving end,

with nothing of permanence.

Laughter will replace fears and doubts soon enough.

For now, chasing details fills the days.

This place I become will carry me to the grave,

wherever and whenever that shall be.

In the meantime, feeding the soil, sitting with what is,

allowing for what will be, dropping off

assumptions,

and listening softening listening softening. . .

I want to know this place deeply and dearly

before I go.

What is to come?

11 Friday Mar 2022

Posted by in approaching, becoming, community, fertile, motion, movement, poems, poetry, violence, work

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What is to come

with such violence in the world?

Old as existence, violence arises and

falls away, erupts and leaves ash heaps,

sterility, an airlessness that waits,

waits,

waits

until seeds able to withstand–and bring Life–

from extremes

begin anew.

But the cycles can not, will not, alter

until every one of us, each one unto themselves,

can reach the threshold of greeting

the violence with and in

ourselves.

Begin, begin, as those stalwart seeds,

to come consciously into relationship

with the most difficult impulses we humans possess,

one by one by one, together,

let us move into wisdom’s ability

to navigate this earthly realm

beautifully and whole.

Out of the dissonance

28 Monday Feb 2022

Posted by in poems, poetry, question, slow, undone, unlearning, wonder

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God, how we fight, fight

to get our needs met.

Out of the dissonance of yesterday

today arrives, new and in flux.

Sitting with turmoil after a verbal attack,

I wonder.

Wonder at our repetitions of what has befallen us,

of the disrespect and dismissal,

bullying and belittling;

What came at me with heavy disorganization

and aggression, brought a new face

to an old pattern. What came at me at home

as a child

came at me again in my home

as an adult.

Only now, now! I could say,

there is no fight here,

slow down and hear what I am saying.

Having one’s boundaries blatantly ignored

and crossed may be

a desperate ploy for power

but I wonder,

might not power be the question at all?

Where rivers join

27 Sunday Feb 2022

Posted by in movement, poems, poetry, transition, water

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Where rivers join

goodbye and hello are fingers entwined,

one feeling like another in swift,

painted tangles and currents.

Waters from here

meet

Waters from there.

Confusion and torrent, swirl and coherence.

Holding on is a goodbye with wings,

watch it fly away~

Enter the River

23 Wednesday Feb 2022

Posted by in honoring, learning, movement, poems, poetry, receiving, transition, water, welcoming, wind

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A new movement is afoot,

with steps unknown. There are none.

Enter the River, whose banks

support you now.

Fear may be stripping away, removing the old,

debriding the wounds, a turpentine in the veins.

Let it be.

She beckons. Enter, and be moved.

You will learn–they will teach you.

Call up faith, rebuilding the trust you think

has been lost.

When ready, your own feet will guide and

root you deeply in place where waters and winds

may dance you, earth holding close.

In time, in time,

the Way emerges…

The open door

12 Saturday Feb 2022

Posted by in change, community, growing, home, honoring, learning, listen, Love, poems, poetry, transition, unlearning, wonder, work

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Somehow it is February and 79 degrees.

What a wonder.

We have entered a new world, mostly of our own making.

Turning back is a fantasy holding some together,

imagining it isn’t happening holding others.

Our earth mama talks with us, through us, always–

she shows more loudly by the year

the honest consequences of our actions.

Birds sing loudly on the other side of the open door,

more kinds than usually heard in chorus.

They bathe bathe bathe and chitter, twinkling songs..

A magical day,

yet strange.

Prayer flies through the open door that we all learn to listen,

listen and praise, find ourselves on our knees ready

for change that serves Life.

And the girl goes ‘Aauchgh!’

09 Wednesday Feb 2022

Posted by in poems, poetry, song, the road, water, wind

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Sitting there, facing a willowy creek,

alders tipping their heads over the pavement,

the girl goes ‘Aauchgh!’

It may have been because of a masterful song

warbling out my mouth,

‘Ohh the sheep dung’s got strong, oh

oh and it wafts in the wind, oh

sheep dung smooooke…’

That may have been what got up her ire,

she was doing homework in the other front seat

afterall,

but who’s to say.

‘Ohh the sheep dung’s got stroooong today…’

‘Aauchgh! Stop!’ She yurdles,

(not sure that’s a word, but she did it),

while holding back the quivering corners of her mouth,

trying very hard to be

s e r i o u s.

‘Guh, stawwp!’ But I can’t ya see,

because that dung sure’s having its way today.

So, the song keeps going and the girl keeps groaning

and all is well,

sitting and waiting under the waving alder trees.

Open space

03 Thursday Feb 2022

Posted by in change, poems, poetry, undone, wonder

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Ever fallen into the space you’ve created?

Like, sold the furniture, given away the dehumidifier,

cast off an extra dish, sock, bathroom scrub,

old toothbrush donated to the cause of grout?

(That shit loves growing a dark beard no matter

the effort. Water welcomes tiny critters.)

Well,

I have too.

The marvelous twisting ways of COVID

includes–demands?–tickles forth

sudden reversals.

That just sounds silly.

COVID giggles at removing the floor beneath your feet.

All in a day’s work for wee virus folk.

Sooo, here I am, furnitureless, floorless, planless,

hmm…less, less, less

is good.

And laughable.

In giant open space I sit,

wondering . . .

May the way rise up

30 Sunday Jan 2022

Posted by in poems, poetry, the road, transition, wonder

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This new dawn

brings a big swale of soul-saving,

a no-net-now, Lord help me, cliff-dive into

open waters disguised as dry, dry, dryness of

desert mountain.

Plants rattle distant leaves,

winds pitch tiny gravel, clack click click,

down unseen scree slopes.

Scooping myself out of what no longer serves,

serving myself into a richer soup

the likes of which I’ve not yet known,

gulp,

answering the call looks a whole lot like crazy,

stepping into an unfinished painting

feels well beyond reason.

Good thing neither much matter.

Ho ho wah ho ho wah ho,

may the way rise up, rise up to meet,

Wah ho ho Hey.

Lights are richly set

26 Wednesday Jan 2022

Posted by in approaching, poems, poetry, prayer, presence, transition

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Ever dismantle a life?

Good lord, it’s a lot of work.

The giving away and selling, shuffling,

sorting, fussing and figuring.

Seems easy. Until you do it.

Then this liquid giggle burbles up

as you find you’d never intended to do

this thing that any spare,

and some not so spare,

time is suddenly dedicated to.

Now, leaning towards a future

you’ve not the faintest whiff of a clue about

as it pulls onward,

you stumble spin, slowly, staring out

in all directions,

including the one that’s got you in its tractor beam..

Zzzzzorp.

Dismantle, dismantle,

ditch this, heave that, pawn that,

huddle at this memory’s blast radius,

shake off the hold of that stubborn monkey,

you know–getting on with it,

despite the maniacal grip of safety,

security, and the other obsessions of mind:

Possessing illusions isn’t wealth, I tell ya.

So, here goes, scraping out the last from the burrow,

to leave only pounded earth.

What comes next rests just behind the heavy velvet curtain,

lights are richly set,

the theater hushes in the dark…