swallowing the sky tonight—
all those enormous worries in me
now like grains of sand
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged sky, spaciousness, worry on October 29, 2020| Leave a Comment »
swallowing the sky tonight—
all those enormous worries in me
now like grains of sand
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communion, love, sky, tea on October 16, 2020| Leave a Comment »
all day I spike my tea
with sky—
is it any wonder
by night I’m singing
love songs
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged comet, sky, stars on July 20, 2020| 3 Comments »
watching the comet
I, too, hurtle through the stars—
disappear beyond the horizon
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged happiness, sky on July 10, 2020| 4 Comments »
weaving a little sky
into my hair—
swallows dive through my thoughts
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged blue, poem, poetry, sky on December 29, 2019| Leave a Comment »
sky so blue
forgetting everything
but blue
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged light, night, poem, poetry, sky on December 20, 2019| 2 Comments »
long bright meteor
unzipping the night—
now the dark so naked
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged connection, poem, poetry, sky on September 26, 2018| 2 Comments »
I imagine writing a one-line poem
long enough to reach you—
imagine how the words might quiver
in the wind, how I might climb
their serifs like a thin-runged ladder
and follow the words
to you like breadcrumbs,
like footprints, like hope.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged love, poem, poetry, praise, sky on April 4, 2014| 1 Comment »
all night I dreamt
I was holding up the sky
so every child
could know sunshine—
is it any wonder this morning
my arms will not come down?
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged awe, blessing, bliss, poem, poetry, sky on October 26, 2013| 3 Comments »
I did not choose
awe today, but the big
pink sky chose me
and steeped me
in fantastic joy—
a drenching of miracle,
an overdose of amazement,
a wild indulgence of bliss—
oh such pink! layers
of rose and deeper rose,
and I did not earn it,
did not first prove my worthiness,
did not beg nor kneel nor fast
nor renounce my name
nor pull the strings
of the lyre nor sing,
all I had to do
was step outside
out of my own way
and open my eyes
and let myself
be gifted.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged chicken little, poem, poetry, seeing the world anew, self-portrait, sky, transformation on August 30, 2013| 1 Comment »
Of course there’s the sky,
puddles of blue and
and mounds of white clouds
all around Chicken Little’s
scaly orange feet.
It occurs to him
only then, as he draws
his own ineffective wings
that perhaps the sky
is not falling at all.
Perhaps he is, at last,
learning a new way to fly.