with thanks to Brian McLaren
Sometimes when I deeply listen,
the seeds of another’s words
land in the soil of me.
Days later, the roots of what
they said are still tendrilling
into my dendrites, and
through synaptic miracle grow,
soon my whole neural network
has lit up, blooming with a new
way of thinking. Like last week
when I heard a man ask,
How does my rage help me
stay on the path of love?
He was responding to a question
he heard me ask in response
to a question I heard someone
else ask. And this is how listening
transforms the world. We adapt
through cross-pollination.
Your thoughts and my thoughts
breed something new—like
this love and rage hybrid now growing
in me. Diversity is the key to survive.
The paths are always changing.
Posts Tagged ‘thoughts’
Alteration
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged birds, change, mind, thoughts, transformation on August 22, 2025| 8 Comments »
Though you’ve tried
to fit into
a thousand
small boxes,
perhaps comes
the day when
you’re opened
by grief or by
love, and your
thoughts unstitch
from what you knew,
and your mind
begins to rhyme
with sky, becomes
spacious enough
whole flocks
of bluebirds
can fly right
through, and
for a time you
stop trying
to make sense
of things, you
simply yield
to being
a home for
the ecstasy
of wings.
One End of the Year
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged new year, openness, permeability, river, thoughts on December 29, 2024| 1 Comment »
these solid thoughts—
the river flows
right through them
One Cleaning the Closet of the Mind
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged cleaning, clothes, mindfulness, nothing, thoughts on January 8, 2023| 6 Comments »
how threadbare these thoughts
I’ve chosen to wear every day—
replacing them with nothing
One Illumination
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged firefly, georgia, illumination, insect, thoughts on August 10, 2021| Leave a Comment »
night so dark
even my thoughts dim—
then (oh!) fireflies!
One Memoir
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged book, love, thoughts, time, truth on February 18, 2021| Leave a Comment »
these beautiful thoughts
old pages turned yellow
every word still true
Could I Say It and Really Mean It?
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged letting go, thoughts on December 4, 2020| 4 Comments »
A pomegranate, tennis racket,
wide open lily—basically anything
can act as a Trojan horse to get
those old ideas close to me,
and dang, I’m confronted again
with all the ways I’ve let down
the world and all the ways
I could have, I should have
done better. How many times
have I tried to escape these thoughts?
I’ve run mountain races and
written thousands of pages
and wept a spring flood and
confessed and bled and still
they find a way back to me.
Sometimes they come knives drawn,
but more often they come
wearing fluffy robes and slippers,
making themselves at home.
I cornered one today, looked it
right in the eye. What? I said.
What do I have to do?
It shook its head and said,
All I ever wanted
was for you to say thank you.
Progress
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged movement, path, progress, thoughts, worm on August 25, 2020| 4 Comments »
Perhaps I am more like the earthworm
than I thought—
one part of me anchored in place
while the rest of me moves forward.
Every time I go, I also stay.
Every time I reach ahead, part of me holds on.
Over and over, I pull myself along.
What looks like progress is slow.
No path except the one I make
by letting the world move through me.
In order to proceed, I make of myself a wave.
In order to proceed, I must let go.
First Night in Mexico
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged frienship, hummingbird, love, positivity, thoughts on February 18, 2020| Leave a Comment »
for Colette
Beside my bed, she left
a beautiful beaded hummingbird
and a story about how the Mayans
believe that these birds will transport
all of our good wishes and desires
to another. Tonight, there is no one
I wouldn’t send this bird to—
not just to my loved ones,
but to my unloved ones, the ones
I would rather forget, the ones
I would rather ignore. Oh little bird,
with your bright body and shining wings,
let’s get to work. Let’s send out
extraordinary beauty tonight,
extraordinary love.
One Persistence
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged beauty, poem, poetry, thoughts, weeds on July 30, 2019| 2 Comments »
in my thoughts
a tap-rooted weed
sometimes I notice
its beautiful pink blooms
before I pull it again
Like an Icicle, A Thought
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged icicle, poem, poetry, thinking, thoughts, winter on March 17, 2019| Leave a Comment »
It is the child of cold and warmth.
It is right it should show up
both cloudy and clear,
this union of opposites,
shaped like a spear, piercing
the silence with dripping, dripping.
It forms itself
the same way it disappears.
One Growing Clarity
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged clarity, poem, poetry, snow, thoughts, winter on February 25, 2019| Leave a Comment »
How to Unshovel the Snow: An Evening Conundrum
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged hope, poem, poetry, shoveling, snow, thoughts on December 27, 2018| 6 Comments »
It’s not so much that you want the snow
back in the drive, it’s just that your back
felt so much better before the shoveling,
and so, using your sideways logic, you think
to yourself that if the snow were unshoveled
your back might unhurt. And while
you’re at it, you think you might unthink
those thoughts you thought the night before
shoveling the drive. Though they didn’t
amount to any action, now that you’ve
thought them they’ve become a frame
that’s changed everything. So you start
with the snow, because revising that seems easier
than anything else, but to shovel it back
in the drive would seem to exacerbate
the problem with the back, so
you consider ways the snow might unfall,
all of them fanciful. At least for a while,
it amuses you, the idea of ten million
million snowflakes rising, but then
the reality of drought returns and you
feel guilty for unwishing the snow. No,
better to put your hope in perseverance,
better to put your hope in healing.
It happens. And you walk up the drive,
so snowless and clear you can safely look up
at the sky and see all those stars. The snow
gathers whatever light there is. It can’t
unshine. You thrill a bit in the chill. Some
of the shine reaches into you. Some of it stays.
One Good Turn
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged beets, poem, poetry, thoughts, transformation on September 3, 2018| Leave a Comment »
Slow roasted,
the beets
become tender,
sweet,
how I long
to do the same
to these hard,
red thoughts.
One Track
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged poem, poetry, thoughts on June 23, 2018| Leave a Comment »
One Down by the River
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged poem, poetry, river, stone, thoughts, transformation on March 25, 2018| Leave a Comment »
the rocks move
more than we think they do—
after the ice floes,
the mudslides, high water in spring
take note, you stone-like thoughts
Preparation
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged garden, poem, poetry, thoughts, weed on June 20, 2016| 1 Comment »
Pulling tall grass
from amidst the peonies
it’s hard not to admire
the tenaciousness
of grass, admire it
as I rip it out, every
last blade.
What Doesn’t Work
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged poem, poetry, thoughts, xerxes I on April 24, 2016| 1 Comment »
And so when his bridge was destroyed by the sea,
Xerxes I had the sea whipped. Three hundred lashes.
He branded the water with red-hot irons
and ordered his soldiers to shout at the strait.
I have tried to lash these errant thoughts,
have wanted to whip them to keep them in line.
I have wanted to make my mind eat soap,
have tried to force it to sit in the corner.
But the sea cared nothing about the lashes,
just as the mind is nonplussed by the soap.
The sea laps its tongues against my frustration.
Salt gets into my eyes, my beliefs, my throat.
How I Stay Tethered
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged poem, poetry, thoughts, worry on September 15, 2015| 2 Comments »
I return to the story about the monk
who put everything he owned into a boat
and rowed it into the middle of the lake
and then sank it. He did not give the stuff away,
not wanting to burden anyone else
with things. I would like to take
a red canoe to the center of a lake
and sink it with these thoughts—
why should anyone else need to worry
the ways I have worried on behalf
of the world? My only fear is that
they would displace so much water
the lake would flood and who knows
how many might be hurt then. No, I think,
better to take them for a walk.
Oh those thoughts, like unruly puppies,
biting at my ankles and running off—
and isn’t it like me to call them back
or run after them, afraid they’ll get lost.