Posted in Uncategorized, tagged letting go, poem, poetry, sea, ship, uncertainty on September 7, 2018| Leave a Comment »
Silly me, I thought the boat was empty.
Thought there was no one else here to paddle
or steer. Thought I was alone and too small
to reach the rudder, too weak to lift
the great oars, somehow not seeing
the sea itself as captain, the sea itself as crew,
its waves carrying me places I never knew I needed
to go until, on that strange new shore, I found
myself exactly where I needed to be,
shipwrecked and wildly alive.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged awareness, daugher, garden, innocence, letting go, mother, parenting, poem, poetry on June 24, 2018| 1 Comment »
Today it slipped into my daughter,
the seed that all is not right in the world.
In a matter of hours, already
the tap roots had grown beyond
my ability to pull them out.
I wonder if I have been wrong
to keep her garden so tidy.
I wonder how to best teach her
to tend her own rows.
It will be endless now,
the onslaught, as every gardener knows.
And there is some pleasure in tending.
I think of how I would rather
be aware of all that grows.
I think of how sometimes
we change our minds
about what is wanted
and what is a weed.
Some part of me longs
to swing the sun back to yesterday.
Some part of me rejoices
that now all the world
is her garden.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged letting go, performance, poem, poetry, theater on May 20, 2018| 1 Comment »
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged letting go, poem, poetry on May 19, 2018| Leave a Comment »
after shedding all these skins
still saying to the cherry blossom
teach me how to let go
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged fire, letting go, poem, poetry on January 21, 2018| Leave a Comment »
Praise the tree as we throw
its branches into the fire,
the needles once green
now brilliant, now ash,
and praise the flames
that consume. Praise
the small hands that
toss the old boughs
and the squeals as the blaze
blazes higher. Praise
the empty space
in the room where all
we see is absence
of tree. Praise the darkness—
that canvas for light
that invites us
to find in ourselves
something to burn.
It’s a cold world.
What are we willing
to offer?
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged cat, death, letting go, poem, poetry on October 17, 2017| 3 Comments »
In the ragged purr of the cat
in my lap I hear all the sun
she has yet to curl into,
all the mice she has yet
to chase, all the days
we don’t have left.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged knots, letting go, monkey fist, parenting, poem, poetry on September 24, 2017| Leave a Comment »
I’ve spent years learning to tie the monkey’s fist,
wrapping the long working end of the rope
around the fingers of my hand. While rocking
and nursing and feeding and soothing, I’ve held
the first set of turns in place, then made three more turns
with the rope. While reading and chasing and
swinging and catching, I’ve learned to pass the end
through the inside of the knot, to make turns inside
other turns. And pull it all tight, just so.
I have wanted to perfect this heaving line knot,
something I might use to throw to my son
to save him when he drifts away.
I have practiced the art of the throw, but it seems
I have tied my own hands by accident.
And now that it’s time to untether the line,
my hands want only to practice what they know,
holding on, holding on, holding on,
how clumsy this new art, letting go.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged acceptance, letting go, poem, poetry, surrender on May 10, 2017| 5 Comments »
unable to hold things together
I open my hands, let everything drop
and feel how the world holds me
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged hands, letting go, love, poem, poetry on February 26, 2017| 1 Comment »
Like a boot takes the shape
of the foot that wears it, I imagine
my hand might come to take the shape
of yours, your hand—something
I was made to hold, made to move with,
made to let go.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged holding, letting go, poem, poetry on February 21, 2016| 1 Comment »
is it one small child
or the whole world
I cradle
*
this longing
to bring you a small bouquet
of possibilities
*
my limbs a clef,
I circle the changing
song of you
