December 2020

 

and who are we to be so blessed to have pie

to have clothing in a closet, shoes under the bed

a bed with flannel sheets : heat and hot water at the ready

who are we not to know how blessed we are 

to remember how it is we came in 

wrapped and delivered

wanted

xo

 

 November 2020

hot peppers & Saint Francis
the birds tongues afire
wings ablaze
the dropped feathers
are warm to the touch
I weave them into my hair
and wait for the glow

xo

October 2020

cool mornings with long shadows 

long shadows with darker reminders

darker reminders of this time in history 

time in history unraveling we are living now

living now with angst, sorrow, and uncertainty

uncertainty taints our daily decisions and plans

decisions and plans are made and made again

again we hold on to the ones we love

we love our people for being them

being them means all ways

all ways is always

xo

 

 

September 2020

Light shifts & days grow softer & shorter & you wonder where time went.

There's mist & fog & wet shoes & socks & popovers from the oven.

And still the angst of a world full of grief & loneliness & illness & strife 

& what do you or I hold on to, who do we love, with wild abandonment ?

I urge you to look up & down when you walk not simply just ahead

& when you do turn to look behind remember where it is you came from.

Most likely it had something to do with LOVE. xo

August begins with memories of loved ones. Today Jeannette would have been 104. She is missed every day in the flesh, in her kind humor, in the love she showered upon all. The smacking of her lips after the first sip of a cold beer. Her raspberry jam and lemon cake. Chicken and biscuits. Plaid Bermuda shorts. The trust she offered and accepted. 

And tomorrow my dad too celebrates a milestone, he will be 89. He will read, thoroughly, a new National Geographic, he will nap, maybe fall asleep with his Sudoku book hitting the carpet. He will make mom a cup of tea and ask us not to travel in the heat. 

As the calendar opens to this new month and these times of great uncertainty and angst in the world I'll hold tight to my heart and the love that is shared. I hope you do the same. xo

July 2020

it's my birth month

and this year I feel ever blessed

to have so much love in my life & heart

such a complicated time to look in and recognize 

the abundance that surrounds me and holds me to place

yesterday it was simply by taking an inventory of our pantry

touching the things that nourish and sustain energy

and the goodness of taste and texture and yum

I whine for closet a place to store things

but then I look around me 

and see the things

that keep me

alive

xo

hope ~ such a small word to consider so much ~

this and the vast holding of the weight of our hearts 

as we struggle to make sense of the senseless 

~ near impossible at times. 

hope, in the wait, may only be one tiny thing ~ 

I beg you to get down on your knees 

and know it's there waiting to unfurl itself. 

xo

the mural found me

it was pressed against 

a cement wall

I'd walked through that alley

many many times

always going someplace

a bit too fast

thinking I'd like to create

something I could hold in my hands

offer to you

maybe fall in love, 

all over again

the red eye of the sea star 

called me to a halt

I touched it then placed my finger

to my wrist

then forehead

the wall was wet

not paint but morning air

thick enough to chew on

when I spit out blood 

I knew what I had to do

xo

it's the itty tiny things 

that will keep us sane

the watering of plants

know and remember

to keep a thing alive

turn toward the light

 test soil temperature 

 give thanks and love 

xo

At our house it is indeed the itty things:

one egg instead of two for breakfast

are we rationing or in communion?

of so many others with less or none.

We eat a healthy meal mid-afternoon 

it serves as both lunch and dinner

it allows us time to digest in all ways

and though listening doesn't get easier 

and the news shared is heart-breaking

and unknowns stack up like sad numbers

we still sit and hold hands.

xo

the birds didn't leave this winter 

they didn't fly south

like so many of our neighbors

they stayed and sang

roosted in the winterberry bush

where we watched and listened

from our small round kitchen table

fluffy bodied tiny things

holding on to the bare bones

of a bush that should have been pruned long ago

everything exposed

waiting for the mighty sun to gain 

length and strength once again

and still they sing 

xo

Twenty-Twenty

Normal Sharpness 

And just what does this mean?

I'm not talking about the eye chart 

or the way you look at me.

I'm not talking about seeing near or far.

I talking about your fingernails scratching my back.

Simple loving ways you touch me.

Your arm flung across my body at the stop sign,

and in the mornings 

with your open palm feeling 

the thud and thump of me.

New moment, new day, new year, 

new decade, new century.

What else will prove normal against the sharpness

of being alive, being here ~ now? 

xo