Just trying to keep things safe,
this innocent, valiant inner mason
who built this stone fortress
to protect me from the vicious wind—
of course there are no windows,
no doors.
That’s how a breeze might come in.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged innocence, overkill, poem, poetry, security on April 30, 2016| 1 Comment »
Just trying to keep things safe,
this innocent, valiant inner mason
who built this stone fortress
to protect me from the vicious wind—
of course there are no windows,
no doors.
That’s how a breeze might come in.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged edge, picinic, poem, poetry on April 29, 2016| 1 Comment »
just past the cliff edge
where land yields to infinite air—
spreading our picnic blanket there
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communion, love, poem, poetry, tea on April 27, 2016| 3 Comments »
We should have each other to tea, huh? We should have each other with cream.
“Lovecats,” The Cure
Perhaps you don’t like tea.
Perhaps you don’t like cream.
It’s not what’s in the cup that matters,
though of course there’s the lovely
unfurling of leaves and the way
that the water accepts what
it’s been given. But no.
It’s not about the tea.
It’s the ritual of the pouring that matters.
It’s the sharing from a single pot
and the all that is said and
the all that is seen as we sip.
We can fill the pot with water.
We can fill the pot with wine.
All that really matters is
that we take the time to sit
together and slowly drink—
we, two separate beings who
are choosing at the same time
to accept the same thing into ourselves.
It’s a little bit like love.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Ars Nova Singers, artistic collaboration, Paul Fowler, Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, Wewer Keohane on April 26, 2016| Leave a Comment »
What would a painting sound like? Come find out at the Ars Nova Singers presentation of Shared Visions this weekend in Denver and Boulder (I will be at the Boulder concert on April 30). They invited Colorado artists to submit work. Then poets responded. Four composers chose four poems (one was mine!–the composer for my piece is Paul Fowler, music chair at Naropa, and the artist is Wewer Keohane, an amazing artist from Carbondale). I am so excited to hear the result! I hope you’ll join me! What a fabulous, collaborative process!
You can read more about the artists, the project, the concerts, and the ticket sales here: Shared Visions
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged poem, poetry, prayer, silence on April 26, 2016| 1 Comment »
in the beginning
before the word
the silence
*
walking the other
direction it’s so obvious,
that waterfall we missed
*
in my pocket
this laughter—all day
I pat it to check if it’s still there
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged breath, poem, poetry on April 26, 2016| 1 Comment »
in the breath, a back door,
in the door, a lock, in the lock
a catch, in the catch, your name
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged poem, poetry, thoughts, xerxes I on April 24, 2016| 1 Comment »
And so when his bridge was destroyed by the sea,
Xerxes I had the sea whipped. Three hundred lashes.
He branded the water with red-hot irons
and ordered his soldiers to shout at the strait.
I have tried to lash these errant thoughts,
have wanted to whip them to keep them in line.
I have wanted to make my mind eat soap,
have tried to force it to sit in the corner.
But the sea cared nothing about the lashes,
just as the mind is nonplussed by the soap.
The sea laps its tongues against my frustration.
Salt gets into my eyes, my beliefs, my throat.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged lotus, poem, poetry, unsustainability on April 23, 2016| 1 Comment »
singing harmony
with the melody missing—
lotus, no water
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged April, poem, poetry, rush, slow on April 22, 2016| 3 Comments »
The creek is rising, love,
all surge and plunge,
a rapid, eager coursing—
do you see how the water
surges, falls over itself
in its springborn hurry—
all around us, ahh, do you hear?
the world is a-scurry
with reachings and rushings
and places to go,
and in me this wish
to do nothing but
touch you very,
very, very
slow
ly.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged allowing, gratitude, love, moon, poem, poetry, river on April 21, 2016| 2 Comments »
just another full moon rise—
is it any wonder
I can’t stop bowing?
*
how, I said,
to the river bed
do you make
of yourself a home?
I let the flow shape me,
the river bed said—
flood, current,
shimmer, stone