Posted in Uncategorized, tagged haiku, moon, morning, nightmare, short poem, tanka on February 19, 2013 | 5 Comments »
mama! she shrieks
I throw back the sheets, leap
run naked through night
but can’t make it into her dream
the place she needs me most
*
whatever the moon
says, that is what I
say, too
*
rushing out
to smell the morning
before its gone
there will be other mornings
but only one like this
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged eternity, moon, poem, poetry, story, woman on January 22, 2013 | 3 Comments »
Chapter 43
Looking up
at the moon
is a woman.
On her cheek
there is a tear.
In the tear there is
a teacher.
In the teacher
is a story.
In the story
is the moon.
Looking up at that moon
is a woman.
On her cheek
there is a tear.
In the tear
there is a teacher.
In the teacher
is a story.
In the story
is the moon.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged attention, love, moon, poem on September 30, 2012 | 4 Comments »
When we use our attention to touch and open the deeper truth in a person, we not only catalyze the experience of love, we become love. The source of love is revealed to be within us; we no longer have to go looking for it somewhere outside.
—Nicole Daedone, “Love Becomes Her,” Tricycle Magazine
It is not too late for love.
Tonight the moon rose,
as it always does, but it
was not the same. It rose
as if close enough to touch,
right there, but I could not touch it.
I gave it my whole attention, then,
listened only to the sound
of it turning while we, too,
were turning, though the sage,
the rocks, the dry arroyo
did not attest to our turning.
The desert had other sounds, too,
but I had, for that moment,
ears only for the moon,
and felt, how strange, my own rising,
felt it so fully I nearly cheered
as the whole vacant shine of it
crested the mesa, cheered though
it was further away then,
or so it seemed, further away, or so,
I see, it only seemed.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged armageddon, beauty, dragonfly, haiku, mess, moon, space, story, surprise on June 27, 2012 | 2 Comments »
balanced on a twig—
two blue dragonflies and
all that space between them
*
the story, calloused
and gnarled, inside it
red leaping blood
*
picking up the moon
like a telephone to dial
your number, of course
*
contemplating
dessert for
the Armageddon
*
opening a can
of worms to find
rose petals
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged change, cycle, haiku, loss, love, moon, poem, what doesn't change on May 5, 2012 | 2 Comments »
this moon, rising
like that other moon did
all those years ago
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged allowing, moon, not knowing, poems, poetry, poetry video, what is on March 10, 2012 | 10 Comments »
Tired and cold
she came to a clearing
beside the river
and set herself down.
There, the moon.
The moon.
*
Not once had she dreamed
to bring the moon any closer.
Not once had she wished
it would move any faster.
*
How to stay in this place
of not wanting
not needing
not wishing
not hoping
not reaching, not knowing.
*
At the edge of whatever
she thought she knew
she leaned
until the only thing
touching her
was nothing.
*
Sometimes a story
ends. Sometimes it
plays again. Sometimes
we see through a story
to see ourselves.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged crow, daughter, expectations, haiku, January, moon, mother, poems, resolution, snow, wanting, wind on January 21, 2012 | 1 Comment »
the wind blows
both ways at once
my thoughts, too
*
fingers covered
in syrup my daughter reaches
to hug me
*
me and the falling snow
both of us
shadowless today
*
crow in the empty
tree, it did not sing to me
like a crow
*
in evergreens
drifting snow and how can it be?
scent of lilac
*
rushing to dance
with the moon, I tripped
on my own wanting
*
January and I
recall over tea we forgot
to make resolutions
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged dreams, haiku, lily, losing the self, loss, meditation, moon, parenting, real, snow, stars, sufficient on January 17, 2012 | 5 Comments »
blank field of snow
just after the blizzard
tracked up in minutes
*
driving sixty
while the tears on her cheeks
went eighty
*
these deep scars
I wish I could forget why
you can’t see them
*
even when I sit
very, very still, God sits
stiller
*
the trees pushing green
and in me a longing to
lose everything
*
even though I know
they won’t fit, I try them on
her mood rings
*
those gossamer dreams
when was it that they became
nooses?
*
all I want to know:
when I am with you, can I
be myself?
*
watching that star
I forget which of us
is moving
*
though all the petals
fell, the lily pistil still
dripping
*
come morning my hair
all tangled after a night
of tussling with words
*
no one says to
the lily, hey, one more petal
would look better
*
these haiku
perhaps I can scrawl them on
bits of DNA
*
more poem sprouts?
said the tears—but we just
started plowing
*
quarter moon
the boy says, it’s broken,
mommy fix it?
*
these dead willow sticks
beside me are so beautiful
I am beautiful
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged ego, haiku, moon, pinata, puddle, the path, the process, wings on January 15, 2012 | 1 Comment »
why prefer?
the piñata before the strike
or just after
*
mud puddle
only the moon
doesn’t jump in
*
though tattered
I clutch at them, these shreds
of who I was
*
knitting the last row
I consider unraveling
the whole scarf
*
the sun takes me
by the hand—the mountain
can’t be tall enough
*
not the song
that made us look up but
the sound of wings
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged acceptance, haiku, letting go, making decisions, moon, path, poem on January 3, 2012 | 2 Comments »
when you rose
to leave, all the paths
went with you
*
Tied to your hand
by a string, the moon tugs on
a string held by mine
*
I’d like twelve arms
two to hold you while the other
ten let you go
*
I toss a coin up
to the sun, heads, tails, this coin
with your name on it
*
before I could ask if
you’d kiss even the blackest
part of me, you did
