every day I dismantle its nest,
that fear that wings darkly
into my thoughts
Archive for March, 2025
One Clearing
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged bird, fear, self-care on March 22, 2025| 4 Comments »
Return
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged bird, grief, poem, resilience, spring on March 22, 2025| 3 Comments »
There was a time I wondered
if I would ever want
to open my eyes again—
today, I can’t stop falling in love
with the glossy black back
of the blackbird, the bright
crimson hues on its wing,
the light song that tumbles
like praise from its beak
as if to say, we are made
to return, we are made to sing.
One Evening
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged cello, contentment, music on March 20, 2025| 4 Comments »
listening to cello
the smile of wanting
nothing but this
Yes to the World: An Interview with Brian Draper
Posted in Uncategorized on March 20, 2025| 6 Comments »
I felt so lucky to converse with author and spiritual leader Brian Draper of the UK as part of his series on Lent, and our hour-long interview has just been released. You can watch on youtube or you can listen to the audio here. We talk about showing up to a day creatively, the practice of saying yes to the world as it is, showing up wholeheartedly in a time of grief, how to turn toward what hurts and stay open, and much more.
Framing
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged framing, grief, love, photo on March 20, 2025| 11 Comments »
In the photo on my phone, my son stands beside
a key deer, one hand limp at his side, the other
extending toward the spindly creature,
his delighted gaze on me where I stand behind
the camera. I don’t remember why he’s wearing
a shoelace tied around his head, but
his hair is bunched up and the look on his face says
he is both frightened by the deer and longing
to be closer to it. Oh, to love what we don’t understand. It
is ten years before he will take his life.
There are no clues in this photo of the tears.
The way his eyes will dull to black. The empty room.
The choice he made in that doorway.
No, in this photo, the aperture is still wide and
the Florida light reflects off his still-blonde
hair. What’s to come is more blurred than
the tropical trees behind him and the deer. Here, he is
still so curious about what might happen next, and
me, though I know now will happen in his story, it
doesn’t stop me from loving the boy
in that photo. Nor does it stop me from
loving him now. That love still framing
my life.
Practice in Being Present
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged geese, presence, snow, spring, story on March 18, 2025| 4 Comments »
As it is, I am grateful for the snow today,
though yesterday I reveled in the warm air
and clear blue sky that felt like spring.
Today still feels like spring, but with snow.
The geese still wander the field on foot,
a thick white layer gathering
on the wide gray platforms of their backs.
The swallows still soar and swoop
in tight formations, unbothered
by thick flakes of snow. The red-winged blackbirds
still trill. It seems only right the heart
should still practice how to fall in love,
no matter the weather. I am thinking of
how yesterday Wendy said of herself,
“What, did I think nothing bad would
ever happen to me?” and how just saying
this out loud helped her stay present—
less the story of herself, more herself.
I’m clear it does no good to wish away snow,
just as it does no good to wish away grief
or the tyranny of cruelty. So when thoughts
of grief and fear roll in like a squall,
I try out Wendy’s line.
What, did I imagine terrible things
wouldn’t happen to me? To the world?
The geese are sliding now into the pond,
the snowflakes disappearing
into dark water. With no effort,
I fall in love with the ripples
the geese leave on the surface,
a momentary story of where they’ve been.
How quickly that story disappears.
How
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged beauty, emptiness, geese, life, loneliness, spring on March 17, 2025| 12 Comments »
The pond ice gone a single day,
and already the wild geese
have returned, filling the open water
with riotous honking. Even
the backyard feels like a teaching
of how every emptiness invites
something to fill it, if not feather
then feeling. I think of how
in my most lonely moments,
some strange beauty has wandered
into my vision or woven its singular
song into my ears and I can’t help
but feel infused by life, the way
a trickle of water slowly—
almost imperceptibly—
will eventually fill a vast basin
till its water spills out the gulleys.
Perhaps you’ve felt it, too,
when you’re barren. Void of hope.
Then. A pink cloud.
An unruly clamoring of geese.
Still that barren, hopeless feeling,
but also, there it is, a single green tip
of garlic planted five months ago
that finds its way up to the sun.
Anyone can see she’s a beautiful woman, but god,
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged beauty, generosity, goodness, kindness, ping pong, play, role model, transformation on March 16, 2025| 9 Comments »
for Erin
Anyone can see she’s a beautiful woman, but god,
she has never been more beautiful to me than when
I brought my great nephews to the loft of her barn
and she picked up a red ping pong paddle and let
the small, fretful boy across the old green table make up
the rules for the game. And every time he’d change the rules—
assigning points for hitting the ball over the exposed beams
of the barn or points for hitting the ball into narrow window frames—
no matter the rules he contrived, she would shrug and say yes
and laugh and let the ball be forever in play. There was sunshine
in her voice when she praised him, pure radiance
in the way she squealed as the ball ricocheted
in the rafters, honest incandescence in her smile.
This is how generosity and goodness survive—
they’re passed on one brief interaction at a time.
When the boys and I left that dusty, sacred space,
fully covered in dust and hay, I swear we, too, were luminous.
One Bite
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged grief, lemon, memory, taste on March 15, 2025| 2 Comments »
lemon cookie—
even as I pucker
I snuggle into a memory
4 upcoming programs (2 live, 2 online) with James Crews
Posted in Uncategorized on March 14, 2025| 2 Comments »
Stubborn Praise
| Amazing poet, beloved friend and celebrated anthologist James Crews and I will be offering our next session of Stubborn Praise with the theme of Writing as Refuge next Tuesday, 3/18 at 5:30 p.m MT. The cost to join us is $19, and there will be a recording. https://www.eventbrite.com/e/1234852369679?aff=oddtdtcreator |
| Oh Broken-Open Heart: A Pre-Mother’s Day Gathering for Mourners For those who might be struggling to celebrate mother’s day, consider joining me and James for an evening of poems, discussion, writing and conversation on Thursday, May 8, 5-6:30 p.m. MT. Hosted by Evermore and Reimagine, the evening will provide a virtual refuge for people who have lost a mother/mother figure or a child. A chance to both mourn and honor. Sliding scale, $0-$30. https://letsreimagine.org/76768/oh-broken-open-heart-a-mothers-day-poetry-gathering-for-mourners |
| Daylong Retreat in San Luis Obispo For those who live in or near San Luis Obispo, CA, James and I will be offering a one-day in-person retreat at the public library on Thursday, 5/1 from 9am-3pm. The cost is $200 to join us. https://www.jamescrews.net/news/z735x25roc0sz1n3dp5jac4sxul5pa |
| Weekend Writing Retreat in Vermont I am also beyond excited to share that James and I will be offering a weekend writing retreat in James’ hometown of Shaftsbury, Vermont this summer! The cost is $475 to join us (you will also have to find accommodation for the weekend), and we will provide a light lunch for both days. Space is limited, with several spots already taken, so I recommend signing up early if you feel called to this offering. https://www.jamescrews.net/news/weekend-writing-retreat |