Solstice

20 Thursday Dec 2018

Posted by in honoring, light, movement, nature, poems, poetry, transition

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We’re stirring the cauldron

the thick and sticky

syrup and grit

the mud pulling at our heels

not the bright spring sprout

with nodule of dew

but the dark, obscured, unformed

and weighty partner

the feeding stew

of shit, and fears, unspoken grief

broken tears

and mothering blood

offering slow-cooked nourishment

to the sprouts

that invariably come

here, there, we know not where.

Winter time,

soul, hearth, slumber and pie time.

May we hold growing light

tenderly

with encouragement

of the winter to come.

Fine beginnings

05 Wednesday Dec 2018

Posted by in Body, loving, nature, poems, poetry

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Fine beginnings,

like this one following a night of rain,

keep me staring out the window

even with a juicy book rife with Cassandra, uterus and Spoken

laying open in my lap.

Broken clouds, grey dashed with whipped white,

show palest blue beyond,

and hills across the bay- often obscured- are the storm-lit knees

and craggy thighs of a great woman

resting back in softened arms of earth

growing green.

Knots in the wood

30 Tuesday Oct 2018

Posted by in aging, beauty, becoming, crafting, discomfort, honoring, loving, nature, poems, poetry, welcoming

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The knots in the wood strong

hands might try

to force flat and out,

erase..

impossible.

The tree has earned those twists and kinks,

hardened, toughened grooves and bubbles,

bulged eyes skilled at a different sight.

Gentle the hand given access

to the yearning, sorrowed places-

they are not to be fixed.

Scars

10 Wednesday Oct 2018

Posted by in becoming, Body, break out, change, death, honoring, learning, loving, nature, pain, poems, poetry, story, the road

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Scars

attest to bridges crossed battling dragons,

to threatening rivers entered

that pushed at knees, sucked at ankles.

To deep mountaintop scree, ragged, sharp and steep where

falling

meant death and dismemberment.

We were there,

we know,

we learned.

Yours lay upon your body

differently

than mine;

equally, they shape us.

Scars pulse out of step with the rest.

Each must be attended to,

honored,

for what they give,

for what they gave up.

Day opens

10 Wednesday Oct 2018

Posted by in abundance, Infinite, Music, nature, poems, poetry, prayer, weaving, welcoming

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She lays in bed, sheet lightly covering.

Out the window clouds of rain draw near,

without hurry or menace.

Slow jazz fills the room, no one else close

to breathe the same thick, gentle October morning

in her nest above the street.

Pumpkin pie awaiting baking,

lamb thawing on white tiled counter,

and the low-lit day opens towards everything

she loves.

New moon

06 Saturday Oct 2018

Posted by in change, nature, poems, poetry, transition, welcoming

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A phoebe sings now

from the next rooftop,

pumpkins are stacked upon hay bales,

and sunrise lights the sky in spreading fires.

At last, moments between tourists lengthen

and first drops of rain rise earth scents up,

up, around, and beyond.

Sleeping things wake, traveling ones return,

the cold sneaks back in cover of night.

More stars will be visiting

with the approaching new moon.

Between here and that far there

30 Sunday Sep 2018

Posted by in flight, nature, poems, poetry

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Across the bay

mountains rise soft,

cutouts against slant of morning light.

Blue gives to blue-lavender gives to blue-grey.

Atop brick chimney between here

and that far there,

this spring’s jay baby, narrow and tall, checks

the street’s goings-on.

He bobs and bolts, whisks himself

down

and away

toward wide opening of day.

A new life begins

09 Sunday Sep 2018

Posted by in adventure, beauty, becoming, break out, change, learning, movement, poems, poetry, the road

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A new life begins

and the old one decides to throw a tantrum

pulling pans, mid-bubble, off the stove,

pitching a canister of oats across the tile

unscrewing the cap on the honey just enough

to guarantee a disaster the moment it’s needed.

You’re in the muck of it,

the stuck of it,

and an evil grin blooms slightly on your old life’s face

who sits nearly out of sight

helping you to forget its presence

until

you shake your head, bounce dust out of ears,

and spot it there.

No sir! This game, while it has been fun,

is no more.

With a step, a bit of a jig, you leave not only the kitchen

but the house

leaving whatever sticky puddle behind

for the ants to clean up.

Sing to the waters

06 Thursday Sep 2018

Posted by in abundance, becoming, community, devotion, honoring, Infinite, learning, listen, loving, mystery, nature, poems, poetry, song, stillness, welcoming

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Where salt meets sweet,

I sing to the waters.

Where sand holds wave, pelicans slap

great wings,

and solitary duck pops up from below

in a stilled bowl

waiting for winter,

I sing

and Wind joins in,

riffling the surface, ripples reaching

in patterns hypnotic and old.

Sing to the waters,

their reply waits for your greeting among reeds,

rushes, fishes and stone.