Even when entirely alone

26 Monday Jan 2015

Posted by in abundance, becoming, freedom, poems, poetry, the road, work

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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.

An Invitation

21 Wednesday Jan 2015

Posted by in abundance, beauty, joy, poems, poetry, release, work

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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.

Symmetry

21 Wednesday Jan 2015

Posted by in beauty, freedom, gratitude, joy, nature, poems, poetry, release, wonder

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Symmetry:
Who ever planted that lie?
Why, it has grown invasively
in our minds.
Imagine
a tree, perfectly symmetrical-
it’d be the oddest specimen
in a lifetime of experiencing trees.
Asymmetry becomes the stamp
placed upon us,
not by birth alone,
but through time,
here,
walking and breathing.
Our bodies,
equally uneven, gnarled,
are intentionally so.
Hearts, lungs, breasts, testicles,
all
marvelously asymmetrical.
Our fingers and toes, like rootlets,
twisted,
play different roles
simultaneously.
Balance requires movement
to counter forces
both inside and out.
We constantly strike deals
with elements seeking
to liberate us.
And, through that making,
like the trees,
we are infinitely more captivating.

Circular song

16 Friday Jan 2015

Posted by in becoming, death, freedom, Inspire, learning, poems, poetry

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I can’t breathe
though I’m breathing..
Diaphragm falling
at last
into place,
true place,
and my brain
spasming,
messaging that a vital function isn’t
functioning.
Question the origins
of a wavering trajectory
and gasps of light
will greet at the gates,
beyond them a polished and golden
curve.
I am here
wholly exploring,
willing to sit
with a death mask upon this face
and a seizure of mind-
a dropping off a cutting loose a sightless learning-
in the brilliance of human adaptation,
minus now
the holding of echoes
of voices never invited.
I am awkward,
a toddler taking first steps,
exhilarated
tippy
walking-
it matters not where, walking!-
and happy to plop backwards
onto a soft diapered bottom
because I’ve done it-
In lacking restriction,
I’m finding the breath to empower both
movement
and
circular song.

Mind the delicate ones

27 Monday Oct 2014

Posted by in poems, poetry, Sight, vision, work

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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.

Beauty wanders

21 Tuesday Oct 2014

Posted by in beauty, courage, freedom, joy, naked, nature, poems, poetry

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Neither glabrous nor symmetrical,
lasting Beauty wanders
away from prescribed uniformity
and the wasted effort of rebellion.
In her,
the dynamism of bliss.
Fires consume obstacles, illusions
becoming the skeletons
of lace wings
honored in their sculptural ephemera;
in the end, they flutter,
blown free by gently pressed lips.
Light stretches into full expression,
at ease,
with plenty of room
to move.

Walk the Line

20 Monday Oct 2014

Posted by in beauty, courage, freedom, gratitude, Inspire, joy, learning, ramblings, work

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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.

Wildness rattled

18 Saturday Oct 2014

Posted by in discomfort, lost, nature, poems, poetry, transition

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from bed i smile to see
two complete handprints
low
on a wall of glass,
an invisible companion kneeling
at the altar of treetop and sky

outside,
watering in crisp daylight,
wrapped in scented shawl of flowering ginger,
a pair of steller’s jays hops close,
the depth of my thirst mirrored by theirs

wildness rattled,
within drought, by human flood.
the growing challenge
to regain elements vital
to thrive

I hold the fire

16 Thursday Oct 2014

Posted by in courage, joy, pain, poems, poetry

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With your hand
touching my skin,
I see-
I hold the fire.
Through dulled eyes of regret
my passion seems especially alluring.
The spark you seek,
another can not give you,
And mine’s neither for sale,
nor being offered.
Your pain, that of faltering flame,
requires your own tender attention
to feed it
with the missing joy you look outward to find.
Tend your own fire,
no one else can.

…out of sleep

16 Thursday Oct 2014

Posted by in beauty, poems, poetry

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Dappled shade drops from grand sycamores,
Woman on bicycle pedals in heels
down cobblestone,
Small boy lags behind mother,
winding between outdoor cafe tables,
dragging one finger along peaks of chair backs,
Sunlight stretches past church spire,
flooding quiet shadow with wakefulness.
Morning traffic-
parents carrying children to school
on two thin wheels.
A gathering of friends with cigarettes,
building stories through accumulating years,
drinks coffee before work.
Man with cello. Man running to catch time.
Woman coasts past, adjusting shawl,
ears filled by private music.
Two monks in beige robes,
crosses hidden in folds of cloth at their waists.
Diesel engine. Rattling bike frame.
Pigeons take flight
into pale cloudless sky.
Bordeaux brightens out of sleep.