Posted in Uncategorized, tagged generosity, poem, poetry, sun on March 31, 2016| 2 Comments »
The sun and I made a promise—
to shine with no apology,
to bring warmth,
to give until we have nothing left to give.
In the night, the sun
entered my sleep
and tattooed my body
with golden words.
Now all my limbs
glitter with this vow—
there is so much beauty
for us to make.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged love, poem, poetry on March 30, 2016| 2 Comments »
at the edge of the branch—
this old heart a baby bird
still learning to fly
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Elizabeth I, poem, poetry on March 29, 2016| 4 Comments »
I love the way you ruled. I love how you rode
into battle in your white velvet dress,
knowing exactly the effect it would have.
I love that you rode into battle. I love
that you wept while you spoke. I love
that you knew that in order to win, your troops
must feel part of a whole.
Elizabeth, you were the best Elizabeth
you knew how to be. That
is what I aspire to, also—though I have no
desire to rule a country. Nor a city.
Nor a business. Not even a man.
But I still have much to learn
about ruling this woman I am.
And I love how no one could anticipate you—
you who surprised every prince, every king.
Elizabeth, I have no horse to ride,
and I will never have a castle to rent,
but you teach me the weight of armor,
and when to take it off. You teach me when
to employ all my weapons
and when to let story reign.
And when to let others do the work.
And when to give my own blood.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Clue, mind, mystery, poem, poetry on March 28, 2016| 1 Comment »
It wasn’t that hard to figure out,
Mrs. White with the revolver in the conservatory.
It took less than half an hour—
the right questions asked, the right rolls
of the dice, the luck of being in the right
room at the right time.
Some mysteries persist—you know,
the ones that keep you awake. No cards
neatly dealt to the players. No brown paper envelope
containing the answers. No score sheet
with a finite grid of possibilities. I walk out
and look up at the stars. A voice from nowhere
says the words I do not really want to hear,
but it says them with such tenderness:
some mysteries are not meant to be solved.
I feel some part of me relax, though the mind, well,
it loves a good game. It reaches for a pencil, sharpens
the lead, creates a grid, looks for clues in every room.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged brother, easter, poem, poetry on March 27, 2016| 1 Comment »
There were years
when the Easter Bunny
set out a wrench and a flashlight
beside the baskets—remember,
brother, the pleasure we took
in the hiding and finding
long after the years of believing
in magic were over?
Eggs we floated in plastic bags
in the backs of the toilet.
Eggs duct taped to the inside
of the chimney flue. Eggs
in the vents, inside the piano,
we delighted in what a bit of invention
could do. Tonight I walked out
of the house after dinner
to take the recycling up to the road,
and there, to the west, an outpouring
of light made me stop and stare
and inwardly, sweetly erode.
In a world so bent, I sometimes forget
that the magic is always
inside us. We have all the tools
that we need. All we need to do
is keep trying to find it.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged easter lily, poem, poetry on March 26, 2016| 1 Comment »
from another room
white scent of lilies—
like that, says the heart, like that
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged moonlight sonata, poem, poetry, restraint, slow, softness on March 25, 2016| 3 Comments »
It is slow and soft, the first movement—
the right hand sweeping in smooth triple meter,
the left hand singing against it.
Minor, the key, and mysterious
the melody, slow, it is slow and soft,
a walk through moonlight.
What is it that sometimes rises in us,
this urge toward crescendo, toward swell?
I feel it in my hands as they move
across the stoic keys, an urgency,
a reaching toward climax, a pressing
insistence, as if to sing louder is to sing
more true. But over and over again,
Beethoven reminds us, piano, piano,
his markings all through the music.
Oh beauty in restraint. It is soft,
the moonlight, a delicate fragrance,
it is heart opening, the tune,
it is growing in me, this lesson in just
how profoundly the quiet
can move us. And the hands,
as they learn to trust in softness,
how beautifully they bloom.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged fool, love, poem, poetry, surrender on March 24, 2016| 2 Comments »
I must be a fool missing this life, if I don’t cast my mind in the fire of love.
—Rumi
the flames, they wink,
though there’s no need to seduce—
this body ablaze throws my mind in
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged love, parenting, poem, poetry on March 23, 2016| 9 Comments »
In the dark before we are fully awake
I hold my son on the couch.
He curls his long thin limbs
into my familiar lap, his body
startlingly warm and soft
and surprisingly light, though
he gives me all his weight.
No, I do not want to let go of this,
and I hold him here, though there
are lunches to make, hold him
though there is snow to shovel,
hold him though my arm falls asleep,
though the clock ticks toward school
and work and dawn. I am well aware
there are other things I long to hold,
impossible things, like his happiness,
his security, his certainty that he is beloved,
long even to hold onto my idea that I
am a good mother, that I will never
let him down. Though I know I do.
Oh love, is that you,
shaking my body?
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged poem, poetry, praise on March 22, 2016| 3 Comments »
with no voice left to sing
still mouthing the words—
alleluia, alleluia