Posted in Uncategorized, tagged allowing, change, grace, haiku, heron, poem, poetry, self, sky, tanka on July 28, 2012| 3 Comments »
I tell myself
there will be more light
still I don’t like it
this scent of old wood splintering
as the roof blows apart
*
my life packed
in boxes–the urge
to lose them
*
the orchards in us
not enough hands
to harvest all this ripeness
*
one heron
in great blue wings he gathers
the whole world
*
I thought I knew
who I was, then the bars
bent enough
I could slip outside of her
how many bars don’t I see?
*
sky so pink
I make of myself
an offering
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged acceptance, dream, falling, grace, poems, poetry on April 20, 2012| 3 Comments »
There is the moment
just before you fall
when you know
there is nothing left
to do except
to fall, to fall,
to fall and say yes
to the falling, to fall
and feel yourself
as you fall, how the stomach
rises where the throat
has been, it’s silent,
then—and it’s fast,
you think, so fast,
you are falling and not
a damn thing to be done
except to fall, to notice
the air rush over the skin,
yes nothing to do but
to fall, to keep falling,
to fall.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged grace, ice crystal, life, light, poem, transience, willow on December 13, 2011| 1 Comment »
The willow branch
hung in rime
just as the sun
begins to shine
is a hopeless place
to be a bloom of ice,
but for that moment
such grace, such light.