02 Tuesday Sep 2014
As we watch
the magician’s sleight of hand,
awaiting error
to show us his ways and fallibility,
the real show goes on.
Slow, slow,
sit and look from where the Paeonia scent
rises out of sleep..
the ants gathering in the folds of petals
tremble in her grace,
walking their tiny regimented paths.
The swoop of sky above holds its breath,
wondering if today
the full bud will open.
01 Monday Sep 2014
I wept into that creek,
threw my voice into the forest.
Held by rocks, shoeless,
a mothering container of mountain
offered cracks of thunder and vanilla,
the dry ponderosa.
Here, by coyote’s invitation,
song and word arose.
Safe to be cracked open,
the stars redefined boundaries,
bringing unguessable exploration
on two feet.
30 Saturday Aug 2014
The River
holds not
the rocks in its path,
but caresses along its winding way…
Were the water to stop,
the Song would be lost
and the work,
that steady gentle sculpting, left
undone;
Carry on,
carry on,
mighty River
~
28 Thursday Aug 2014
For every rejection
every refusal,
Say,
Come closer.
For every tear
and blemish
and tremble,
Say,
Come closer.
In jagged light when
all the the angles are wrong
and disheartening,
fall
in Love.
Be the tender one,
the present and caring one,
alone with yourself.
In that freedom
none can knock you from place,
your sway becomes a spin
becomes a leap
becomes a Song
to which others find
their own dance.
27 Wednesday Aug 2014
In the growing up
Vision clears.
With the bite of attachment
through hunger and loss,
Gifts-
Sap and nectar and perfume,
the rooted water finding,
nourishment gathering,
earth holding..
Blessings
present themselves
in an upwell of golden hour light,
offering full possession
of that which blindness said
didn’t exist-
A mighty, sweet
and inexhaustible
power..
Ignorance is a back turned to the east,
a mind believing sunrise
to be myth.
Turn around,
the sky blushes for you.
15 Friday Aug 2014
Posted in nature, poems, poetry, transition
≈ Comments Off on A bright flood of nuthatches
A bright flood of nuthatches alight on young oak,
thoughts lift,
walk impossible angles,
hang from the feeding branch.
Bugs and birds, marriage of prey and predator,
a beginning and end allowing more
to begin.
In savory pause,
A break in the sky carries them away…
08 Friday Aug 2014
Meeting rabbit at dawn,
her form nearly a shadow in gold grass,
voices of three owls cross overhead.
Bat descends swiftly from behind,
grazes ground,
flies sharply up past my cheek.
Rabbit hops closer, stands high on hind feet,
bringing a clear river of scent to her twitching nose and,
with offset ears, sits, scratches, and
washes herself.
Dark full-bodied mosquitoes harvest breakfast
from my backside.
Red-shouldered hawk cries dominantly
from the west,
lands on cypress crown.
Young coyote trots past.
07 Thursday Aug 2014
Walking the live growing edge,
Flames of experience lick heels~
In this divine purification,
Ash feeds Earth,
Smoke tendrils rise in prayer, skyward,
Heart’s passion strengthens,
Love becomes boundless,
Devotion deep,
and the weight of gravity,
a welcomed morning blanket
holding us here, joyfully embodied.
By Grace,
Presence expands,
Spark resides…
Come walk with me,
be a light for One
and another-
the view is breathtaking,
the vital pulse ever danceable,
and the space to share,
Infinite.
04 Monday Aug 2014
Ducks in the shallow end
of calm intertidal,
Suspended garlands of kelp
in watery scoop of sand,
High bumps of cloud~
Morning’s yawn unravels.
A man wrapped in navy terry cloth and slippers
walks the slope of driveway for the paper,
A woman lounging in robe reads on her deck,
Another, in nightgown and raincoat, head bowed, smokes her first cigarette,
A third, barefoot, hops back homeward from the car,
whatever needed gathered in hand.
A feather drops from the sky
on the way home.
01 Friday Aug 2014
Posted in fearlessness, freedom, learning, poems, poetry, transition
≈ Comments Off on Impact
In a blink,
impact.
Syrup-salt of sorrow.
You are not once
what you were,
with your many faces,
deceptive promises and
intense draw.
In lifted fog
I see,
returning my gaze,
eyes missing clarity and joy, while
I gain understanding,
at last-
I lent the passion
for our fire to burn.
The flame is mine.
Now, I carry it close
to warm and light my own way.
Salt, Smoke, Water and Stone 