02 Wednesday Jul 2025
Clouds form over the distant olive hills,
soft in morning light.
By afternoon, when heat has cooked the world white
and this desert sky holds back some of its blue,
those same clouds will tower and be belly grey and thick,
heavy with rain they can’t wait to loose.
Our bodies will vibrate with thunder.
28 Saturday Jun 2025
It starts so early, this putting down of the girls.
Father of young girl with blonde locks tumbling
walks past and our brief exchange
circles around cherries:
This one doesn’t like them, he says,
She’s the picky one.
A. Who cares, this like/dislike
B. How about an understanding heart, pal?
But, no, gotta put ’em down.
Old, old story–nothing to do with blessed cherries.
I shrug–
That’s okay, nobody has to like ’em, I say–
for her,
to him.
I’ve been that girl in the family’s eyes
my whole life long.
Let them have their judgments for company.
Keep walkin’, little sister.
27 Friday Jun 2025
Posted in liberation, poems, poetry
≈ Comments Off on A blueberry
Once,
I was about to eat a blueberry,
a ripe and plump, little blue sphere.
Touching that berry,
on its way toward my mouth, I saw
a sudden bloom of many dozens–
dozens!–
of the tiniest spiders ever
skittering from their birthplace.
Imagine,
your whole world,
a blueberry,
until breaking out into this one.
Perhaps, when time comes,
we are to do the same.
26 Thursday Jun 2025
A fresh blood, now, runs from this wound,
dripping thick, womb-blood red,
to thirsty ground.
The trail follows me as I leave,
planting stones.
Each feeds dark Earth,
sticks weapons of their confusion, fast.
My back, low belly, my heart unwilling,
unaccepting soft targets,
half a lifetime on.
Planting stones returns
this deepest and cruel ancestral story
to the Mother who fashions stone into gold,
medallions for witful generations to come.
Flowers may bloom, cool waters may move,
Hummingbird brings those open prayers
to Heaven.
It ends with me.
I walk away into land of blowing dust,
with stars shining straight from the hands of God,
I walk away toward the fire
ever burning on…
23 Monday Jun 2025
Posted in liberation, light, listen, poems, poetry
≈ Comments Off on You..are..
Gah! I give myself away,
to their judgments,
their expectations,
their views and assumptions.
Silly cat! Bat those off the table,
paw pad after paw pad after whip claw..
We aren’t here to please them, to afford them,
to fit some pre-ordained shape.
Twist as you wish,
reach as is your nature,
climb, sink, thrive–all in the asking,
the taking.
Denying is reduction,
agreeing without agreement, sacrilege.
Nomad, go fly.
Maybe no one will understand you,
but you do–keep that scent in your nose
and follow it.
You
are
wise.
14 Saturday Jun 2025
Posted in approaching, change, community, connection, dissolution, generations, heart, Life, movement, poems, poetry, world
≈ Comments Off on Wannabe king
Wannabe king parades in,
bare butt flapping in the wind, saying,
My clothes are the finest in the world–
in all the worlds–
simply gaze upon them,
My apparel line, starting price 10 million,
will launch this fall.
The people hear, but more, they
see
his paunch of arrogance and delusion
while the gun salutes shoot off,
polluting collective sky.
The people march, no king, the people gather,
no thanks, no king for us today.
05 Thursday Jun 2025
Posted in liberation, motionless, movement, mystery, poems, poetry, void
≈ Comments Off on Contained
Serpentine movements toward
and away
based on nothing the culture expects,
impatiently demands,
only,
toward yes, warmth,
away from no, cold, mostly
in suspension,
blind,
asking,
when, lordy, when, and
is this my failing or some cosmic barometric pressure
holding
holding
heavy lid to the dark pot before,
until,
that heat can no longer stand but rise, fragrant,
a refusal of being contained,
twisting into an arcing freedom of sky.
04 Wednesday Jun 2025
Bumblebee on French lavender,
fuzzy turning sideways heavy delightful
flight,
rest, wander,
another one alights,
purple, grey green waving;
a lovely warm night watering
the funny patch of weedy garden.
01 Sunday Jun 2025
Critters chasing through high trees,
squirrels limb to limb and birds,
in flight, one to another to another,
and the song,
songs,
braiding on the wind,
wind gathering applause of soft and hardening
oak leaves,
dark, thick, fresh to the season,
and I,
far into the unsettling,
year of the unsettled,
take counsel:
keep faith, drop the choking self-doubt,
open back up, out, into Spirit–
no flower is itself
without
loss,
loss of safety’s deceit.
Nothing guarantees certainty but
betraying yourself for mere
survival.
That rushing in?
Trust it.
10 Saturday May 2025
I draw nearer the Unknown.
How can I not,
to be closer to God is this;
Unknown–true Creation.
Not noble or shiny, maybe missing teeth,
limping, dusty and brilliant..
Stay close,
the past can not play out forever,
only mind does that,
read the signs, look for what’s different,
if, at a thought, ice fills your blood
and belly turns sour,
power has been tossed away.
Relax back into change,
those arms wait to hold you,
the generosity of a reliable and beloved friend.
Ride the horse.
Salt, Smoke, Water and Stone 