Posted in Uncategorized, tagged invitation, risk, safety, sea, water on February 20, 2020| 2 Comments »
Vast and powerful,
the invitation
like a sea
with a surf
and unknowable tides—
I do not want to stay
on the shores
of my life.
I want to run headlong
into the waves,
to feel myself buoyed
and challenged,
to know myself
as one who risks,
who emerges
shimmering.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged car, failure, invitation, Joi Sharp, letting go, poem, poetry, teacher on July 12, 2019| 2 Comments »
What wants to happen?
—Joi Sharp
Today it is the tow truck
that leads me back to myself.
For though I call the driver
and though I receive
a text that says he is coming
and though I have paid
my AAA bill on time, the tow
truck does not arrive.
Though I did everything right.
Though the same actions have worked before.
Still the world has not turned out
the way I expected, the way
I want it to. The car
is still stranded. The tow truck
is still not here. Oh failure,
how clearly it shows my attachment
to outcome. How clearly it
shows me the world is in charge.
I look for more doors to knock on,
try to plan more ways to control.
Meanwhile, I am the door.
Meanwhile, this chance
to let go.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged invitation, party, poem, poetry on August 15, 2018| 2 Comments »
Today, a party, and the whole world
is invited. No written invitations,
but the occasion? It’s Wednesday.
And here we are, all of us, in the same place
at the same time. Might as well
get to know the person standing
next to you—learn their name,
shake their hand, discover
all you have in common—
the party goes on tomorrow, too.
Bring your own. Bring something
to share. No RSVP, just show up.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged awakening, invitation, poem, poetry, rain on April 7, 2018| 7 Comments »
Today it was the puddle
that woke up my heart,
the way it received the sky
and remade it in smeary mirrors
of grays beneath my feet.
How at first, I tried so hard to avoid it,
and then, once my feet were wet,
I could see it only as a way to play,
an invitation for joy. To splash
in the clouds. To splash for the pleasure
of splashing. To splash until
I could no longer recognize her, that part
of me who longed to stay safe, stay dry.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged invitation, mountains, poem, poetry on June 17, 2016| 1 Comment »
Meet me in summer
when the mountains
are softened by fields
of blue lupine
and the creeks run clear
with the memory of snow.
With any luck,
we’ll get lost until
we, too, begin to bloom,
until whatever is cold in us
melts and races away
with a bright and bubbling laugh.
There are days we forget
how to make a fist,
how to speak any language
but praise. Meet me
in summer when the old
high trails are open—
what else might we find
behind the crumbling
mines—some share
of ourselves we’ve yet
to have met—something
so spacious we never
dreamt it would fit
inside our skin.
With any luck,
it will follow us home.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged happiness, invitation, poem, poetry on July 6, 2015| 2 Comments »
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged invitation, love, poem, poetry, silence, triolet on March 9, 2015| 3 Comments »
When there is nothing left to say
please come and find me then.
We’ll stroll in golden fields all day
when there is nothing left to say—
we’ll reunite in other ways,
bouquets of touch and listening hands.
Hush, there is nothing left to say.
Please come and find me, then.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged invitation, poem, poetry, spirituality on December 9, 2014| 1 Comment »
two haikulings inspired by Rumi’s Divan-e Shams-e Tabrizi
over the edge
making the last step
with no feet
(Divan xxxv)
*
that departure drum–
how easily I slip its beat
into my dream
(Divan xxxvi)
