lost in this meadow
deep in the grass
so easy to think
there is no path—
ask the mice
ask the stars
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged field, lost, path, perspective, poem, poetry on September 24, 2018| Leave a Comment »
lost in this meadow
deep in the grass
so easy to think
there is no path—
ask the mice
ask the stars
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged gratitude, museum, perspective, poem, poetry, prehistoric journey on July 9, 2018| 2 Comments »
it was never meant to last,
this life, though we tell ourselves
we’re different, though we tell
ourselves we matter. But the planet
is patient. And the sky is older than that.
The bones in the exhibit hall are proof.
Still, as I drive the seven hours to home,
I am careful to stay in my lane,
careful to miss the dead lump of what once
was a bird, to use my turn signal,
to wave thanks at the truck driver
who let me into the flow.
It may not go on forever, but
for now there is this chance
to learn about communion.
There is this chance
to see just how generous
we can be with these drying bones.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged light, perspective, poem, poetry on May 26, 2018| Leave a Comment »
carrying a candle outside
into the twilight, the whole world
revolves around the tiny flame
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged heart, perspective, poem, poetry, toe on March 30, 2018| 1 Comment »
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged driving, perspective, poem, poetry on January 20, 2018| Leave a Comment »
first stepping into the galaxy
to see that tiny blue dot—
now ready to watch the news
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged aging, freedom, perspective, poem, poetry on June 20, 2015| 1 Comment »
She walks so easily down the concourse,
the young woman in the short dress and sandals,
her purse slung across her slender shoulder.
She’s not encumbered by much that I can see—
no children pulling on her shirt, no carry on
rolling behind her, no backpack or heavy purse.
I can’t help but notice how light she might feel,
what with her skiff of a sundress. I can almost smell
the freedom like a perfume she doesn’t know
she is wearing. I was like her, once, at least that
is what I would like to think, though I know better
than to project this way. It is easy to imagine
that she is free in ways I once was, though
never knew. Who can say what invisible chains
weight us down. Looking back, I notice
how little I noticed then. On a whim,
I decide to pretend I am older now looking back
at myself. Oh look, look at her, how light she is.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged illusion, perspective, poem, poetry, reality, villanelle on January 25, 2014| 2 Comments »
Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one.
—Albert Einstein
Am I a woman dreaming she’s a bear?
Or bear who’s dreaming she’s a woman, lost?
I cannot find the answer anywhere.
One thing’s for sure, the bear is not aware
she might be dreaming. She is hungry, cross.
Am I a woman dreaming she’s a bear?
The woman, on the other hand, she cares
if it’s dream. Are these her teeth? Her paws?
She cannot find the answer anywhere.
The she-bear lifts her nostrils to the air
and sniffs. She feels the edge of coming frost.
Am I a woman dreaming she’s a bear?
The woman falls down to her knees and stares,
confused by her wide footprints in the moss.
She cannot find the answer anywhere.
It’s time to sleep? It’s time to wake? I swear
I cannot say. Are these my hands? Or claws?
Am I a woman dreaming she’s a bear?
I cannot find the answer anywhere.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged growth, love, patience, perspective, poem, poetry, rose on August 25, 2013| 1 Comment »
I grieved
that the rose had stopped blooming
when in fact
it was opening
only very, very, very slowly
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged perspective, poem on June 14, 2013| 1 Comment »
Oh look! says Anita,
pointing to the window,
and there, where only minutes ago
we saw mountains
we now see only gray.
I think of how
I cannot see you.
How many veils
are in the way?
It’s no use
to try to pull them down.
They drop when it is time.
I know where you
are. The mountains, too.
Perhaps I am the one
who is hiding.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged perspective, poem, poetry, seeing, tanka on May 11, 2013| 4 Comments »
Did you notice,
I say, the gorilla’s nose
is shaped like a heart?
Yes, she says, but my heart
is shaped like a fist.
*
Easy to see
I’m a wave in the water—
when I disappear
nothing essential
will be lost.
*
Harder to believe
nothing’s lost when my daughter
pulls the needle
out of my knitting
and the stitches fall off.
*
Ever notice
how hard it is to see eye
to eye when our
backs are toward
each other?
*
Solar eclipse
in Taurus and the window
between worlds opens—
eyes wide, advises my chart,
it’s a new day for your heart