Tonight I can’t see the shape of the moon
behind a cluster of clouds, but I see
the bright radiance seeping through the edges
and know the moon is there—
that is how it is when I speak out loud
to my father and son. Hi Dad, I say.
Hi Finn. I love you. I miss you.
And aren’t you so proud of our girl?
As I walk through the dark, scent of rain
in each breath, I can’t hear the shape
of their words in my ears. But I swear,
I feel it, the shine.
Posts Tagged ‘communication’
How the Communication Works Now
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communication, grief, invisible, loss, love on May 29, 2026| 4 Comments »
Over Time
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communication, connection, flower, garden, growth, lily on May 18, 2026| 2 Comments »
The way my grandmother tended
to her daylilies, that is the way
I want to attune to your words—
knowing how each utterance blooms
only briefly, but when cared for,
the plant itself is hardy, long lasting,
abundant, able to survive both
heat and chill, both loam and clay.
Come love, whisper to me.
I cherish every petal. And when
there is no bloom, I have learned
water and fertilize anyway, to honor
the place where the bloom will be.
One for You
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged clouds, communication, light, transformation on May 4, 2023| 4 Comments »
break in the clouds
out of the blue
gold spills in
Of Tenderness
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Clementine, communication, fruit, trust on April 19, 2023| 7 Comments »
So easily the thin rind
pulls away from the Clementine
to reveal what is soft,
what is sweet.
It matters, I think,
the way we offer
ourselves to each other.
I think of how it falls open,
the peel of the ripe clementine.
I think of how sometimes,
when I ask how you are,
you, too, fall open
and give me everything.
What a gift
when I don’t need to pry.
What a gift, the bright scent
of conversation,
how the tang of it
lingers in the air.
I long to open
for you this way, too.
Trust begins here.
On Language
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communication, grammar, language on March 17, 2023| 6 Comments »
You, language, that rises
out of quiet air, from where?
How syllable? How syntax?
From whence come gifts
of fricative and nasal,
glide and vowel? From where
these translations of mood
into ooo and thhhh
and mmmmm and ah?
Sweet miracle, language,
the kindness of phonemes
the sweet generosity
of grammar—glorious
as a cherry tree in spring—
that teaches us to say
I am, you are, we have been,
we will be, we are going
to be, we might, we are;
all those truths spilling
from our mouths
that escape the known
like petals that form,
then flutter away
from the bough
into silence.
Listening to the Wind on Mars, I Consider the Unsaid
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communication, mars, silence, sound, wind on February 23, 2021| 3 Comments »
Just because I can’t hear the wind on Mars
without the sound being raised two octaves
doesn’t mean the Martian wind wouldn’t open a sail—
doesn’t mean it wouldn’t blow off my hat
or fly my kite or create thick swirls of red dust.
Just because I could barely hear the wind on Mars
with my human ears doesn’t mean
the wind wouldn’t flip up my skirt. So many forces
just beyond our senses have powerful effect—
like the words that just today I didn’t hear you say,
yet I know by the way my skin shivers they’re true.
I know, just as sure as the wind blows on Mars,
it takes just one gust to make a thousand seeds go flying.
And I am a weed with ten thousand seeds.
And those words I didn’t hear today, they’re the wind.
Why It Matters What We Say
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communication, connection, desert, friendship, jude Janett, words on February 21, 2021| 2 Comments »
My tears mingle with yours and the dry world is watered again.
—Jude Janett
Parched and dusty,
the inner desert
forgets it was once a wetland.
Barren of confidence,
arid with self-disdain,
it forgets how to grow things
not covered in thorns
and spines.
Then you with your love
reach across the afternoon,
a brief shower of words,
and the whole inner world
remembers how it is to be lush,
to be nurturing, to be green.
Derailleur of the Heart
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged arguing, bicycle, communication, love on February 16, 2021| 2 Comments »
Because our conversation
feels like riding a bike uphill,
I think of gears. I think
of how easy it is to shift
lower, how a simple flick
of the thumb makes the impossible
possible. Where are the gears
for love? There must be better
ways to use our teeth
than biting words. There must
be a series of notched wheels
in the heart that allow us
to move forward with less force,
some mechanism to make
the chain hop from one sprocket
to another, changing the way
we engage. I want to find that gadget,
those gears, the ones that help us
hear each other, the ones
that help us say what must be said,
the simple tools that allow us
to move forward at all.
Suggestion for a Day
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communication, division, kindness, silence, speaking on November 3, 2020| 4 Comments »
And if today we speak at all,
let us speak in golden leaf.
Let’s converse in low clear stream,
whisper in rose-hip pink.
And if we speak at all today,
let’s slip mulch between each word,
aware that what we say will grow—
how powerful the words we sow.
And if we speak at all,
let’s speak in mountain, speak in field,
speak only words that lift and heal,
speak only words that lift and heal.
And if we speak,
let’s listen for the quiet in between—
plant tulip bulbs in the silences.
And crocuses. And grace.
And any words with thorns in them,
let’s set them down. Let’s lose them.
And if our words don’t open like sky,
let’s let the sky do all the talking.
Student
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged autumn, communication, river, speaking, student on October 15, 2020| Leave a Comment »
The river in autumn
is clear enough
to see the trout
who swim
in the deeper pools.
There are many ways
to speak.
This is one.
What’s in a Long Pause?
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged apology, communication, pause, silence on August 13, 2020| 6 Comments »
A rumor platoon.
A secret room.
A flying trapeze.
The honeyed moon.
A grapefruit pucker.
A slick river otter.
A compound fracture
and a safety measure.
The carrot peeler
and the apple tree,
the truth, the lie,
the apology.
The Most Important Thing
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communication, Corona Virus, friendship, love on March 22, 2020| 14 Comments »
Just two weeks ago, it was sufficient
to say, hello, good morning, good bye.
But now, in every text, every email,
every phone call, I tell my friends
and family how much I love them.
I tell them life is better because
they are in it. I say it with the urgency
of a woman who knows she could die,
who knows this communication could be our last.
I slip bouquets into my voice. I weave love songs
into the spaces between words.
I infuse every letter, every comma, with prayers.
Sometimes it makes me cry, not
out of fear, but because the love is so strong.
How humbling to feel it undiluted,
shining, like rocks in the desert after a rain,
to know love as the most important thing,
to remember this as I keep on living.
Resolution
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communication, language, plant, poem, poetry, speaking, tree on January 2, 2020| 4 Comments »
For last year’s words belong to last year’s language
And next year’s words await another voice.
—T.S. Eliot, “Little Gidding”
So let me speak this year in leaf,
and let me speak in stem.
Give me photosynthetic nouns
and algal interjections.
Let my syntax be made of phloem,
let my phonemes be blades of grass.
May all my conjunctions produce oxygen
may my prepositions be moss.
And let me mostly listen
with ears attuned to soil and root
And when I have words, let them be living,
may only the kindest words bear fruit.
From the Tip of the Thought
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communication, erik satie, poem, poetry, relationship, speech on September 3, 2019| Leave a Comment »
inspired by Erik Satie, Gnossienne 1
same phrases, same sighs,
we’ve said them, sighed them before—
and each time the chance
to find (mid-syllable) a door, a new wildflower,
a raincoat, blue, perhaps a wing
(to hear the music, click here. This direction is given when the initial theme is repeated)
One Bummer
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged clarity, communication, poem, poetry on August 7, 2019| Leave a Comment »
dang, how the songbird
mutters sometimes, and slurs,
forgets how even the most
discordant song can be beautiful
when it’s sung clear
One Approach
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged cliche, communication, poem, poetry on July 31, 2019| Leave a Comment »
Translation
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communication, communion, gratitude, poem, poetry, translation on May 19, 2019| 3 Comments »
Once I would say “table,” and mean
“table.” Once, I would say
“broccoli” and mean “broccoli.”
I would say “stone” and mean
“stone.” I really did believe
that things were separate.
And nameable. Now,
every word that comes
out of my mouth, no matter
how many syllables, no matter
the tone of voice, no matter
my intention, I’ve come to understand
that every word
is really just a translation
for thank you,
thank you for this moment.
And every silence between the words,
regardless how brief,
is really just the sound
of one hand in gratitude clapping.
In Matthias Hall
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged college, communication, poem, poetry on April 26, 2019| Leave a Comment »
Years later I wake in the night and remember
the way he banged on my bedroom door.
He was drunk and he begged me to let him in.
I was in my dorm room bed, and my best friend
was visiting. The interruption angered her
and she hissed in the dark, Don’t you dare.
I told him to go away. He didn’t.
He pounded and begged and shouted.
Please, he said, before I heard him crumple
at the base of the door where I believe
he fell asleep. By morning, he was gone.
It wasn’t only my door I had closed,
it was my heart. I didn’t understand then
that I was too frightened to let him in.
I didn’t comprehend how our fear
makes us small. Years later, I want
to open the door. I want to meet him
before the drunken night and tell him, I hear you.
I want to thank him for bringing me his heart.
I want to tell myself, You are capable
of sharing difficult feelings. I want
to write a new night and walk with him
through the dark, the only pounding
our fragile hearts.