Monthly Archives: October 2015

the poem that writes herself

she comes to you in a dream, dripping mystery as you sip your morning mists, elegance rising or she whispers playfully when we brush teeth, look the other way sweeping the dust from our dulled floor, and how she streams … Continue reading

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so many to pray for

I am standing at the stove when I remember what I had forgotten. My slight acquaintance, whose father’s obituary caught my eye in the newspaper the other day; I need to remember to pray for her, too. Which gets me to the … Continue reading

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believing

when the fox prances by the kitchen, seemingly to sip past the boulder kissed by lichen you can see her shifting shape, if you listen and believe in between dusky mists she slips into the other realm where magic reigns … Continue reading

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borderland

in between us pulses  the mysterious:  potent possibility like some primeval and wholly marshy land sentient porous a flow forever letting go of  labels and possession a dance of pliancy reciprocity breathing in between you and me 

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The Gifts of Being Discombobulated

“…the eyes of my eyes are opened….”~e.e. cummings Off kilter. Askew. Unsettled.  Unbalanced.  And, yes, discombobulated. We’ve been living in the Land of Topsy Turvy a lot more since we moved homes last summer. There has been the torrent of … Continue reading

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knowing when to exit

it was far too late to be leaving so, how can the grinding weight (misgivings, grieving?) chill us still, like footsteps frozen by narrowed paths too trodden; funny how comfort both coddles and numbs- a blanket becomes a halter (or a … Continue reading

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on noticing

scurrying through the kitchen (another armful of laundry) her flurried eye suddenly caught by the shadowy boulder a stone’s throw from the window: how can she not have noticed it before? the moment  pausing long enough to see a soft … Continue reading

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