This moment is not
the citrus burst
of ripe blood oranges
nor bitter dark
of Ceylon tea
nor warm whiskey
of long, slow kisses—
instead it tastes
of the must of loss,
the salt of what was,
the sharp young wine
of words not yet said,
and there,
dancing on the tip
of the willing tongue
the yeasty, springy crumb
of truth.
Archive for March, 2021
So Many Ways to Do It Right
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged being right, falling, path, stillness on March 13, 2021| 6 Comments »
This longing to get it right—
to not only find the right path
but to walk it with grace,
without stalling, without stumbling.
But the forest is dark and deep
and the paths are many—
and I fall, and in falling,
I stop.
So this is what it takes
to notice the beauty of being still,
to see how staying in place, too, is a path,
how falling, too, is a grace.
How much easier it is to walk now
when I trust any path I’m on is the right one,
even this one where I fall,
even this one when I don’t move at all.
George of the Jungle
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged dad, daughter, imagination, song on March 11, 2021| 2 Comments »
My father sings
and I am again
a girl being bounced
on his lap, wondering
if there really is
a jungle somewhere
where a monkey eats nails,
and why would a monkey do that,
and doesn’t it hurt?
My father is laughing,
his eyes glitter with tropical shine,
and I understand
he is traveling in a world
of imagination
and gave me
an invitation to go with him—
fifty years later,
we are still swinging
through that curious jungle,
singing, wondering
about that crazy monkey,
his strange choices,
blessing these surprising worlds
that bring us
together.
Power of Poetry! March 19 & 20
Posted in Uncategorized on March 10, 2021| Leave a Comment »
On March 19 & 20, join me and a huge host of other poets and storytellers for Power of Poetry, online this year. Billy Collins. Naomi Shihab Nye. Jack Ridl. Alison Luterman. David Lee. Luis Rodriguez. George Bilgere. Kari Gunter-Seymour. Valencia Robin. Sara About Rashed, David Duncan. Andrew Garfield. Jon D. Lee. Will Hornyak. Bil Lepp. Eleanor Wilnor. And many, many others. Plus music, art and story.
Friday night will be Educating the Heart, Saturday night will be Pathways to the Heart. Both nights free. For info for how to stream it on You Tube, visit https://www.ravensunpoetry.com/about
Free! Thanks, Owl!
Finding My Calling
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged animals, busy, Jack Granath, nature, spring on March 10, 2021| 2 Comments »
with a line from “After the Japanese” by Jack Granath
A warm March day
and the blue sky
slips itself
into the list
of things to do,
and I would have to be
deaf or just plain stubborn
to not hear the call
to play outside—
and damn, but
I’m stubborn,
so the world
sends a bobcat,
a red-tailed hawk
and a whole herd of elk
to the yard.
What’s a busy woman
to do
but surrender?
I don’t.
Head down, I get
the work done.
I put on the blinders
of responsibility
until a poem says to me,
You do the right thing,
citizen, and my chest pounds
in urgent code:
that. means. you.
and I put down
the work and walk
into the day
to do my duty,
which is to meet the world
that will never
send an email,
the world
that will never knock,
will never call,
but will always
say welcome,
citizen, welcome.
Love, a CinePoem by Rosemerry & Holiday
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged holiday mathis, video poem on March 9, 2021| 2 Comments »
Though I am undeniably broken,
I come to you with no need to be fixed.
I come to you the way one river
meets another river—not joining
out of thirst, but because
there is so much power
and beauty in giving oneself
to another, in moving
through the world together.
I come to you the way the half moon
comes into the yard—I could be more
whole, but in the meantime,
I will bring you everything
I have.
from Hush
with HUGE thanks to the amazing Holiday Mathis–wow. I am soooo grateful for you, your vision, your gifts.
Ode to Opening the Door
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged door, opening, practice on March 9, 2021| 5 Comments »
Every day, many times,
I push down the lever
that opens the door
from the room to the house,
from the house to the world.
Such a simple gesture,
grasping, then pushing,
then letting go.
Sometimes quickly,
as when I am trying
to keep the cat inside.
Sometimes slowly,
as when I am trying
to quietly enter
a room where someone else
is sleeping.
To open a door
is to move from one space
to another, perhaps a space
where dark rye bread is baking
filling the room with its midnight scent,
perhaps a space where a single
bare lightbulb is swinging,
perhaps a space filled with birdsong
or gunfire or stars or a final breath.
My whole life
I’ve been practicing
how to enter a space—
how to meet what is there
on the other side
and still be true to myself.
My whole life I’ve been opening doors,
some I immediately regretted,
though there is no going back.
The room I left is never the same
when I return,
nor am I the same.
My whole life
I’ve been opening inner doors,
always surprised to find
another, always surprised
how big the worlds are
in a space the size of me.
Every door I open
I practice how it is
to move through,
to move into,
to offer my attention
to what is new,
perhaps a gust of wind,
a lullaby being sung,
a spacious grief or an expansive trust
I never dreamt was there.
Midnight Insight, March 13, 10 p.m. MST
Posted in Uncategorized on March 8, 2021| Leave a Comment »
Hey Friends! If you can stay up late, join me for Midnight Insight, a late-night conversation on CREATIVE PROCESS hosted by Orlando White and Jesse Maloney, Saturday March 13 at 10 p.m. MST. I’ll be a guest along with the amazing musician, performer and writer Toni Oswald. Free! One hour of fun. To RSVP for this event email Orlando White at owhite@dinecollege.edu
Home
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged arriving, home, nature, river on March 8, 2021| Leave a Comment »
Even after all these years
of wandering this twisting path of self,
how is it I am still surprised
to find a new home inside the rush of river,
as if I haven’t been here
in this song of melting many times before?
How is it I forgot my home
inside the brittle brown grass of March,
home in the sweet moldering scent of spring,
home in the sun soaked day—
as if the great star of beginnings
is saying again to me, Come, friend.
How is it I sometimes forget to arrive
exactly where I am, especially in these days
when forgiveness arrives like the cranes
on great wings that charge the air.
These days when love comes crashing in
like western wind, breaking branches
and rearranging the yard, as if to say
it is here to change everything.
Sometimes I forget the world will find me
wherever I am and insist in the language
of willow and trunk and hawk and noon,
home, home, you are home.
Strange Wish
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged gratitude, heartbreak, wish on March 7, 2021| 3 Comments »
I would never have wished
for those years when I starved myself,
years when any number on the scale
was a reason to hate my own body.
I would never have wished to be in the room
with the man who didn’t listen
when I said no. I would never
have believed I was capable of weaving lies
that could cause so much hurt,
would never have wanted to break
so completely I walked through the world
like a ghost. And yet I have never been
more grateful for the breaking, the grieving,
the struggling, the loss. I didn’t know how resilient
I was until I was shattered. I didn’t know
how failure would teach me trust. Didn’t know
how pain would open me to feel more compassion,
to fall more in love with the world.
It would be a lie to say I am grateful for pain.
But I am grateful for this heart
that contains grief and joy,
grateful for this body that expresses
fear and courage, anger and hope.
Grateful to know myself not only as self
but also as whatever is holding me,
as great space holds the day—
how much bigger the world is now.
I would never wish heartbreak on you,
but if it comes, when it comes,
I wish you the gift of holding the heartbreak,
the miracle of opening
beyond what we ever dreamt was possible,
I wish you gratitude for life,
no matter how impossible it is
to say thank you.