Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communion, poem, poetry, silence on May 1, 2018| 1 Comment »
I find the silence
between your words
and set a cushion there
and close my eyes
and find stillness in that quiet
place in you
that speaks to that quiet
place in me.
Within a single conversation
we’ve shared communion
a thousand times—
is it any wonder we cry
when we say goodbye?
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communion, connection, poem, poetry, wine on December 28, 2017| 2 Comments »
in me a wine
I want to pour for you—
each sip made
from a thousand tiny bells
still waiting to ring
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communion, love, poems, poetry, spirit on May 30, 2017| Leave a Comment »
on the shores of you,
finding a place through the overgrowth
where I can let fall everything
and slip in and
stay
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communion, poem, poetry on October 7, 2016| 3 Comments »
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 communion, friendship, poem, poetry, signing, sisterhood on March 3, 2016| 3 Comments »
for Heartbeat, oh my god do I love you women
each time we sing
I forget everything
except the original joy
of being one small voice
in one great song
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communion, darkness, night, poem, poetry, self, union on January 28, 2016| 3 Comments »
the dark is less dark
and the shapes of the world
reveal again their singular shapes—
I know they don’t really lose their lines in the dark,
but I like to imagine all those newly
illumined silhouettes
have spent the night blurred, puddled
into one immense darkness,
forgetting for a while
that they have any lines
worth preserving.
It is enough to make a woman
wish that the light
would never come
if that is what it takes
to make us all remember
how arbitrary they are,
these boundaries we like
to call ourselves.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged a capella, communion, music, singing, unity on June 7, 2014| Leave a Comment »
for Heartbeat
Here, rest in my voice
on this note we share.
And when you breathe,
I will carry the song.
And when I breathe
I know you’ll be there.
And this is how
the song goes on.
And this is how
we disappear.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communion, lose the self, love, poetry, river, unity, video poem on April 5, 2012| 3 Comments »
As salt dissolves in ocean, I was swallowed up in you beyond doubt or being sure.
—Rumi, translated by Coleman Barks
Glisten and wet lick
and thick river scent—
that is everything.
Swords. Shields.
Stories of who did what
to whom and when—
and all those hows, whether
divine or horrendous—
gone.
Even these words
you and me
reduce to vacant syllables
in the face of such
movement, such shine—
I could never explain but
it rushes in so clear
that whatever
we once thought
of as other is here
in the clamor
of snowmelt, here
in the river birch
waiting for green,
here in the shove of tumbling
breath as we realize wave
and lose
all we were sure of,
lose the path
that got us here,
lose even the loss of it.
