A wander in my sister’s garden where there is a chaos of sunflowers, masses of tomatoes late to red, sea daises, spent corn, and beans that have threaded their way from one end to other of the patch.… Read More Ah Sunflower
What would a map of the dry feel like?
Would it crackle at your touch?
Would it change as the dust moves?
And if it did what does that mean
about the temporary nature of things
are they somewhat hidden?
Yet open for discovery? Are they moving too?
Have the pathways altered,
requiring an alteration
in the pathfinders? A new convention.
Is the wind then a gift?
Revelation. Endless alteration.
You would have to ride it wouldn’t you?
And would the map make allowance
for a wet season? And the return
of the potential that transpires with the wet?
Is there space for that?
The finding and unfurling.
The absolute overflowing.
it’s what you omit that smells the loudest.
The mapped lines of the leaf
become the waterways.
It darkens the shades
and renews the shapes.
The movement across the map.
Track that. And the touches
that paint richness as they kill.
Longitude and latitude swimming
tangled on the storied bark.
I want to be tangled too.
Overland and coastal way wend.
What atlas is this I am in?… Read More Dry
How does one send light?
Could an envelope contain it,
crafted from the breath of life,
be carried by Charon
for a fee of fear
Or is it best posted
by the oracle,
should he seek me there?
Lack of faith is streaked
by the very tears that result from it.
that run across its facade,
the easy path of capitulation.
Faith then erodes. No.
By its nature it rebounds.… Read More Intercessional
Up there are stars
I cannot yet see
Beyond the bough
With leaves that cede to
The afternoon winds
Beyond the blue above
That captures and floats
My ideals and thoughts
Of you skirting
The pecking and insistent
Songs of quarrelling birds… Read More While
found some water fowl and had fun trying to catch glimpses of them through the reeds. They hide their young well, you can spy one through the reeds in one of the photos. And then a quick stop at the pier where a fellow was testing the water temperature off the side. I hung over the side of a bridge and found some pelicans.… Read More Glimpse
I am seeking light, in myself and in the beauty of the world. And the light shines on a new wisdom about the sources of strength. Strength that comes from loving, from leaning, from learning. That endures hurt and joy, yearning and acceptance, hope and recognition. A different kind of strength designed not for surviving but for thriving.
Tiger. The words keep coming to me. “C’mon tiger”. And a slow rumbling that is a waiting roar builds within.… Read More The Thriving Tiger
Darling, an epiphany! The pied piper leads me and I submit willingly, a call to dance to a new drum beat. It’s as if a dozen drummers are playing percussion on my heart, a truer leaping I have not felt. … Read More Episode 12: Twelfth Day of Christmas