Posted in Uncategorized, tagged alphabet, name, poem, poetry on May 22, 2014| 1 Comment »
a poem for Leanne Canty’s amazing Alphabet Menagerie
Between the letters A and Z,
there’s so much to explore—
an alphabetic wonderland
of names that open doors!
And then there are the places where
the world slips through the letters,
where anything is possible,
let’s dance there, friend, together.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged cicada, gratitude, music, poem, poetry on May 20, 2014| 2 Comments »
Each shrill, whining, or whooshing song is a call to the endless nature of love.
—David Rothenberg, Bug Music
Sometimes the only thing we need
to do is step slightly to the side
of the self. It is easier then
to see how beauty surrounds us,
how we ourselves contribute
to all this beauty.
By what odd trickery
do we forget to say thank you
in every moment?
We are not like the Magicicada
that must wait seventeen years
before our time to sing.
In this very instant we could emerge
and choose gratitude—
one way is to be wholly resonant,
to add our voice
to the one great music.
The other way is to listen.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged boundary, cross the line, poem, poetry, time heals all wounds on May 19, 2014| 1 Comment »
One day I just stopped
drawing the line, the one
that I did not want you
to cross. But you would
cross it anyway. Again.
And again. And I would
redraw the line. Sometimes
red. Sometimes black.
Sometimes with my scent.
And you would cross
it again. And then one day,
yesterday, I realized
I had forgotten, who knows
for how long, to draw the line.
And there you were, poking
around in my garden, again,
only there was no charge
in my noticing, no juice. I felt
no urge to curse you nor confront
you nor send you off.
I thought I might miss it, this
boundary, this habit
of pushing you away.
But the absent line
left something marvelous
in its place—surprise.
And an empty grace.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged aster, less is more, poem, poetry on May 18, 2014| 1 Comment »
no rhododendrons
embellish the path, but oh
this tiny white aster
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged answer, magic eight ball, poem, poetry, questions on May 17, 2014| 1 Comment »
I have never had an eight ball do me right.
—Rob Wasserman
I ask it,
Will it be easier tomorrow?
It says,
Ask Later.
I ask later. Will it be easier tomorrow?
It says,
Don’t Ask.
Oh, I say. Should I just go away?
It says,
Looks Good.
What is that supposed to mean? I say.
It says,
Try again.
Oh. Okay. Will it be easier tomorrow?
Can’t Tell, says the eight ball.
I guess I’ll have to wait and see, I say.
In the small blue window, it says,
I Say Yes
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged allowing, loss, poem, poetry, stone, surrender, wanting on May 16, 2014| 1 Comment »
After begging the stone
after asking the stone
after wishing the stone
after entreating the stone
after bribing the stone
after wanting the stone
after beseeching the stone
to become a butterfly
I sit with the stone
and notice how quiet
it is in my head when
a stone is a stone.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged beauty, light, poem, poetry, transformation on May 15, 2014| 1 Comment »
in the rearview mirror
a sunset so extravagant—
I pulled a u-ey
on the main street
and stepped on the gas
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged bee, flower, poem, poetry, seduction on May 15, 2014| 1 Comment »
Stirring inside the barely
open flower, the bee
dances his legs
in the golden
pollen, his whole
body trembles against
the core until he is wading
in gold, he is covered,
he glitters and I
become fully
flower.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged death, goldfish, love, pet, poem, poetry on May 13, 2014| 2 Comments »
You are not snuggly
nor cuddly, don’t fetch,
don’t do tricks,
but for three years
you have followed us
around the kitchen
with your bulgy eyes,
and you’ve outlived
every other fish.
You have carried
the weight of a young
boy’s love and appear
to have found peace
inside a cage. These
days watching you list
and rest are painful,
heartrending days. It’s not
your way to caress or kiss,
but it’s human to want to hold
what is dying. It’s human
to want to nurture what hurts.
And how human we are,
sitting beside you, gulping
the terrible air, huddled
into each other, holding
what love we can.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged failure, poem, poetry on May 12, 2014| 1 Comment »
I have not failed. I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work.
—Thomas Alva Edison
Here, you can take back
those words you never said.
*
They say the best thing to do is fail well.
Well, at least we got part of it right.
*
Battered by wind and bent by snow
the daffodil has no idea it is my teacher.
*
Another day, another chance
to celebrate getting it wrong.
*
Inside, there is a live bird trying to get out.
It does no good, the open door.