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Posts Tagged ‘sign’

The Message

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on March 16, 2026| Leave a Comment »


 
 
In amber lights, the electronic display
on the highway message sign read:
Slow down … for the unknown. 
And I did. All day. I drove slower.
Walked slower. Typed slower. Ate
slower. My eyes trained on the horizon, 
my whole body sensitive, hyper-alive,
as if a deer might leap out, as if a great 
piñata might appear, as if a lover 
might curl his wicked finger, as if 
the sky itself might write me a love letter, 
as if the road might lift like a ribbon in the wind,
as if anything, anything could happen, 
anything, even nothing. 

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A Sign?

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on February 25, 2026| 6 Comments »


 
 
There, on my sleeve, a small white feather.
I don’t know that I believe in signs.
But the white feather that appears on my sleeve
while I think of saying goodbye to my girl
doesn’t mean nothing. It says to me,
pay attention. It says, slow down. It says,
you have learned how to love what isn’t here.  
I think of all the white feathers I started to see
after the death of my son. On the sidewalk.
In the air. On a mug. In a dream.
So I say to the feather, I see you. And I say
to the feather, thank you for reminding me
to notice the smallest of things. I say to the feather,
such a gift that you should appear here now.
And I say to my girl, I see you. And I say to my girl,
I love how good your hand feels in my hand. And I say
to my girl, such a gift you are here right now.

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On My Sleeve, the Smallest White Feather

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , on February 4, 2024| 19 Comments »

 
 
I never saw them before you died.
Now I find them in the sidewalk,
in the forest, in my hair,
on the seat in a restaurant—
white feathers might show up anywhere.
Part of me says, Be rational.
Part of me falls into the sweetness
of how it feels, as if you’ve found a way
to find me from wherever you are,
and offer me feathers,
as if you’re trying to touch me,
as if you’re suggesting I could fly.

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Sitting Quietly in the Night for Twenty Minutes while Nothing Happens

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on September 11, 2023| 8 Comments »


Perhaps I wanted a sign—
an owl call. A meteor.
The brush of an invisible hand.
Instead, I got a sky full of stars
and an ear full of riversong
and the certainty that no matter
what happens or does not happen
in the world outside of me,
there is always, inside me,
a love that grows and changes.
Is it strange now, I am grateful
for nothing—the nothing
that teaches me
the most important thing of all.  

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One Mysterious Weaving

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , on July 16, 2022| 4 Comments »

on the brightest day
the shadows steep darker—
winging through them
on imperceptible wind
a white feather

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But You Thought You Knew What a Sign Looked Like

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , on February 6, 2018| 8 Comments »

 

 

Open your hands, lift them.

            —William Stafford, “Today”

 

 

The parking space beside the store when you

were late. The man who showed up just in time

to hold the door when you were juggling five

big packages. The spider plant that grew—

though you forgot to water it. The new

nest in the tree outside your window. Chime

of distant church bells when you’re lonely. Rhyme

of friendship. Apples. Sky a trove of blue.

 

And who’s to say these miracles are less

significant than burning bushes, loaves

and fishes, steps on water. We are blessed

by marvels wearing ordinary clothes—

how easily we’re fooled by simple dress—

Oranges. Water. Leaves. Bread. Crows.

 

 

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Augury

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on March 30, 2017| 1 Comment »

 

 

 

A purple crocus,

a hole in the clouds,

an empty lipstick case,

a pearl button,

scent of mint,

a left turn signal,

yellowed lace—

ask the world a question

and what can’t be seen

as a potential sign—

star-shaped balloon,

unbruised apple,

elk by the highway,

accidental rhyme.

 

 

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