New

18 Thursday Sep 2025

Posted by in ancestors, beauty, devotion, grief, Healing, heart, history, home, liberation, Life, medicine, mystery, new, Opening, poems, poetry, question, shame, song, transformation, unlearning, violence, waking, weaving, welcoming, wonder, work, world

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Confusion tumbles out of us,

violence and shame, ever pointing–

over there, over there.

Look in the mirror, friend, we each must

consider our part, the veins of ugliness within,

ignored, denied, pushed away.

Wounds need care,

sunlight and tenderness.

Otherwise, they fester.

None goes unhurt, none walks without darkness

to be held.

Point not that way, and that,

drop the pointer all together.

We are a we, and in it together to reweave

an old, old decaying story into blessing and art,

connection, nourishment and song.

What beauty brings us here now?

What Beauty to be bestowed back to Life?

Ask the ancestors,

they know,

ask the ancestors for help–

healing takes everyone, form and formless alike.

Let the new story begin..

it breaks through already

in the most delightful, unexpected ways.

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…

Water

22 Friday Aug 2025

Posted by in dance, dreaming, Infinite, language, Love, mystery, poems, poetry, prayer, presence, receiving, Summer, water, words

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Searching for words is seeking water

mid-mesa.

Not a tree in sight.

Blessed sage basks in full sun.

Rain falls, drifts away.

Soon tarantulas will promenade,

romancing their coupling dance

to create the next generation.

No, the words are water

and the Maker decides when and how

they drift or drive or well up

through this hollow reed.

Let syllables drip from the tongue unsought,

honey for those hungry

and in need of that particular soul balm.

Sliver moon pink

21 Thursday Aug 2025

Posted by in approaching, fertile, honoring, light, poems, poetry, prayer, seasons, transition

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Sliver moon pink

in morning’s blooming light.

Baby raccoon sleeps, the Mountain presides.

Chipmunks race by, tails high.

Goldfinches feast on the generosity of sunflowers,

dry and nodding.

Soon, summer’s loud pulsing concert,

the countless crickets singing to Spirit,

will go quiet.

For now, warm nights still meet bare skin

and open windows connect neighbors

in their slumbering sighs

as the length of our days shortens..

Lit by fires

13 Wednesday Aug 2025

Posted by in ancestors, dreaming, generations, history, listen, poems, poetry, transformation

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While reaching forward, we’ve no knowing

how far goes the reaching back,

our days lit by fires long ago.

The generations that birthed us here,

inside this present day,

the losses they carried and blessings

they bestowed.

What vision is ours, what vision has been given?

The living breath spiraling us ahead,

steam engine of our days,

extends behind us on tracks buried

by histories untold.

Ancestors are quivering the roots,

make no mistake.

We are not here just for ourselves.

Take ears to the stones, stories be talking.

Wake up!

02 Saturday Aug 2025

Posted by in freedom, generations, Healing, heart, history, honoring, liberation, Life, medicine, movement, new, poems, poetry, prayer, presence, thanks, transformation, undone, waking, wind, wonder

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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!

Reconvene

27 Sunday Jul 2025

Posted by in ancestors, community, connection, history, honoring, listen, movement, poems, poetry, presence

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Who is out there,

ghosts or our imaginings of them?

The spirits in flight, down the chimney,

behind the pizza place, and definitely in the alley bar across the way,

are curious. Mischievous.

Scandalous if they get drunk.

Not sure the woman in the corner

really lost control of her own lifted skirt–

winds, spirits, not so different.

Flowers are to be given, and spirits, yes, for the spirits,

they calm and hold them to the grounds of the unresolved,

no longer drifting, no longer so thirsty,

finally recognized, and in place– for living, for dead,

with earth in the holy middle,

to reconvene.

Sometimes

23 Wednesday Jul 2025

Posted by in Awareness, becoming, break out, fearlessness, freedom, poems, poetry, Power, transformation, unlearning, waking, woman

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Sometimes you outgrow things,

understanding an effortless reaching for sun.

Other times, you must take sword to the lashings

of ancient curses binding you,

across chest, around the waist,

pinning you to the prow of a ship–

you, the first to be sacrificed in storm or attack.

Get to know the paralyzing ropes wrapping you raw,

then cut through and burn those fuckers

to the ground.

And dive.

Mother Ocean waits to take you

to shores meant to shelter and delight

in your very being.

Leave the curses to the cursed.