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Posts Tagged ‘enoughness’

Shift

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , on November 9, 2026| 1 Comment »


 
 
They’re doomed, of course, 
these calendula seedlings
sprouting all across the garden.
Because it’s November. 
Because even though
the fall was rainy enough
for water-swollen embryos 
to crack open their seed coats, 
even though there was time enough 
for the primary roots to push down 
and the embryonic stems to push up, 
even though there was light enough 
for the shoots to break through the soil, 
for the first true leaves to open 
and do their good green work 
of turning sunlight into food, 
still, the truth is they will freeze.
The truth is they will not have time 
to bud and flower and go to seed. 
As I stand above the dozens of seedlings, 
shaking my head, I swear I hear them say, 
No, honey, you are the one who is doomed
if you think the measure of a life 
depends on how much one blooms, 
doomed if you don’t believe that this, too,
is what we are here to do: 
to break through the tight dry shell 
that has kept you safe
and rise through the darkness into light.
 

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The Day I Didn’t Want More

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , on November 8, 2026| 5 Comments »


 
 
Strolling slow beside a slow silty river 
   in the desert, marveling for hours at how green 
     the land is after a month of remarkable rain. 
Marveling how sage brush branches bend 
   beneath the weight of great flowering fronds.
     How low-angled light makes
strands of spider silk shine—
   and the shine is all around us. 
     It has taken me decades to want
to learn what Mary Oliver means 
   when she writes, “Oh do you have time
     to linger?” After scaling steep peaks
and training for races, after pushing myself
   to go farther, go faster, after rushing 
     to do whatever I think I am here to do, 
I now long to be a lingerer, a dawdler, 
   a straggler, one who celebrates the glory 
     in the white froth of rabbitbrush gone to seed, 
one who follows foam trails emerging 
   from rapids until they disappear. 
     I want to be the ridiculous one, 
the strange person staring at sky 
   with tears sliding down my cheeks
     because I finally understand that 
whatever else I am here to do, 
   I am also here to stand beneath blue 
     on a November afternoon.
I am here to learn loving the world 
   is in service to life itself. 
     That among other things, I am here 
to rest my body against a sun-heated rock 
   and feel the warmth slip deeper into my being. 
 

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