Slow roasted,
the beets
become tender,
sweet,
how I long
to do the same
to these hard,
red thoughts.
Posts Tagged ‘transformation’
One Good Turn
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged beets, poem, poetry, thoughts, transformation on September 3, 2018| Leave a Comment »
Meditation
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged poem, poetry, sorrow, transformation on August 29, 2018| 2 Comments »
And when sorrow arrives for tea
and stains the table cloth
with its great mass of gray,
and when sorrow arrives
and drives everyone else away,
do not leave, alarmed though you are
by its slumping weight.
Offer your attentiveness.
See how it almost radiates?
There are myths in which monsters
transform into princes.
It always takes courage. And kisses.
In Praise of the Books that Change Us
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged books, poem, poetry, transformation, words on August 14, 2018| Leave a Comment »
The words that will change us
remember, perhaps,
when they were first found
by the person willing
to serve them—
they carry in their serifs
a willingness to wait,
late nights of wrestling silence,
the wing of receiving, the joy
in sharing the gift.
When we read them, they enter us
like tiny notes in a score we never knew
we were part of until one day
there is music everywhere
and we are the ones being sung.
And Why Not Call It Miraculous?
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged communication, language, light, poem, poetry, transformation on June 17, 2018| 2 Comments »
Just as the sun enters the room
and changes the feel, the warmth,
and the power to perceive,
the right word, too,
can be a beam, can shine
into an evening, bring
glimmer, tidings of light,
make even the darkest corners
shine. Yes even one word
can become a prayer,
a gate we pass through
to find ourselves luminous.
Pep Talk
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged change, poem, poetry, self talk, toaster, transformation on May 10, 2018| Leave a Comment »
It’s not like the toaster
keeps secrets. Everyone
knows that all it does
is add heat for a short
duration. But that’s
all it takes to turn
something stale
into something
somehow sweeter
and warmer and
oddly much
more itself.
Heat. For a bit. That’s all.
And even knowing
this, I let the stale
parts of me stay
stale. I know from experience
that that the heat
will come whether
I choose it or not.
Though sometimes it
will burn down the house
just to toast one slice.
Better to take things
into my own hands.
Sometimes, I take
my own advice.
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
And Then It’s a River, a Tide
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged poem, poetry, transformation, voice on February 5, 2018| 1 Comment »
I teach my sighs to lengthen into songs.
—Theodore Roethke
There is a secret music
that fills us from within,
a clear song that rises
as the mud of our thoughts
settles out, how quietly
it arrives at first,
our own true voice.
Unfinished
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged change, dave aschwanden, poem, poetry, transformation, wine on July 7, 2017| 2 Comments »
Dave slips the wine thief
into the barrel and siphons
the young red wine. Into my glass,
he spills it and asks what I taste.
Pineapple. Pepper. Currant.
In another, there is cinnamon.
In another, sunshine and almond.
The thief dips again and again
into cab franc and merlot, syrah,
and grapes I’ve never heard of before.
They are all changing,
Dave explains. Come back again
in a month, he says, and they
will all be different. I think
of what a difference a month makes,
how the heart, like wine,
stays essentially the same,
only it’s ever transformed—
the notes it carries, innuendo,
the balance. At last, we reach
the barrel of white, Gewertzraminer.
In my glass sings pear and grapefruit and
summer still shy. Though it, too, is unfinished,
I could drink it all night.
All around us, inside us,
so much is changing. I tell myself
not to fear. There can be pleasure
in this art of change,
exotic and sweet,
a hint of rose petal, spice.
Touched
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged heron, memory, poem, poetry, transformation on April 22, 2017| 2 Comments »
The heron flies away
and its great blue wings
touch the surface of the water.
For a time, after the heron
is gone, the twin concentric wrinkles remain.
If you leaned far enough, you could
see your reflection in ripples,
your image warped by the memory
of flight. The water
returns to its stillness,
your face again your familiar face—
but that is not the way
with all memories.
Sometimes, we
never see ourselves
the same again.
What Will You Become?
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged poem, poetry, transformation on April 22, 2017| 2 Comments »
You are the elephant
and I the room,
you the lark,
the missing spoon,
you the question
that swallowed the answer,
you the music
inside the dancer,
and I am still
the waiting room—
or, perhaps, dear elephant,
a cocoon.
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