moments

moments

Friday, December 31, 2021

 



January 2022


another image to capture cold

to feel stillness and starkness

to know home isn't a place 

but maybe a time in our lives 

when we need quiet and beauty


it takes time to witness an icicle 

to wonder which drop will hold on

my hand against the windowpane

comes away cold with laced lines

my life line is curved and longer 

on one hand


it's the one I reach for you with


x

o







Wednesday, December 1, 2021

 


December arrives in all her frosty glory hanging lace prayer shawls from trees & powerlines & the wonder & beauty teach you to shut the mouth & open the heart. The ground crunches to remind she is being walked upon. You are being held. She allows diamonds on your eyelashes & the tiny hairs in the nose you almost forgot you had. Don't Forget, she reminds: These things make the will of your life.  

These are your things: Cold feet. Chapped hands in wool mittens. Slower walks. Darkness. 

Do not let them go unnoticed. Cherish how she silently covers the earth & you with sparkles. 

xo


Sunday, October 31, 2021


 Soul of a Tree
Heartwood


Nothing can be healed 
until you lean into it. 

The woods know 
the secret, 
you see it often; 

 quiet wisdom, 
nakedness, 
 the trust of falling.
 
 xo


Monday, October 4, 2021

October 2021

 


More than More

stands and ropes
forever precious 
memories of her
 teeth across 
luster & shine
salt and rain
licking lips 
placing jewels
 over her head
eyes sparkling
then my turn

xo










Tuesday, August 31, 2021

 


September 2021

light shifts with a page turn
there: summer & now we are here
shorter days - longer shadows
searching for things that hang on
soon it will be gold leaves
now: whatever is within reach
our hearts are blown glass
hanging from taunt strings

xo



Tuesday, August 3, 2021

 




August 2021

Several weeks ago I witnessed largeness 
me a shadow of self miles from home 
if such a place exists I don't know it
 here or soon or a thing from before

I remember my mother-in-law as one
who smelled of raspberries & radishes
& the earth she plucked them from
dark soil on the knees of her denim capris

her lip-smack as she took the first taste
her smile when something was gone
emptied: the satisfaction she shared
her gingham blouse thread worn & clean

contentment she wore like a precious jewel
a sit on the front porch in the wicker rocker
the boards under her feet smooth and shiny
like her and what she left behind

xo






Friday, July 2, 2021

 




July 2021

hot & humid

 kneehigh corn : gathered bales : painted porch : bolted greens  
rains all night : daylight long

and before you or I know it

snow swirls & ice crystals touch the very windows we look out from & to

and we'll want this heat
the longest hours
sun on skin

xo










Tuesday, June 1, 2021


June 2021

I have shared the above photograph in the past of the lilacs 
but this is June and if only...we could hold this will to open.

Again, from Mary Oliver, "Keep some room in your heart for the unimaginable."

June brings us long days, sultry evenings, blasts of thunder, and wild lightning. 
Fireflies and mosquitoes. Brilliant and pesky. The both/and of our precious lives.

What will be left behind? Not the lost hat, the missing keys. 
But what will our loved ones carry when we are gone?

xo








 
 

Saturday, May 1, 2021

MAY 2021

 



MAY 2021




And so flowers arrive; some pushing through wet earth
others driven in a car handed off in a hefty glass vase
gifts of what's to come

I remind myself to look closely 
to learn what they are made of

I was reminded a few days ago 
that we do not live in our bodies
our bodies live within us
this took me to my knees

I planted peas and spinach 
the same day
the same bent knees

Reminded: It's the same HOLY.

xo




Friday, April 2, 2021

 


April 2021

Creek, it is a creek?
stream, brook, runlet 
more than a trickle 
sounds of spring 
under dead leaves: a push
rindle, runnel, rill, rivulet
an awakening
tributary
time
xo








Monday, March 1, 2021

 



& then the sun 
going sideways & inside me
stopping me: calling me witness
naming me present 
though this gift a thing 
seen many times before
each one new: promised 
almost but not to be taken 
as always or forever
&
when I am gone, the sun 
will carry on
others will slow: name it beauty
wonder who was first 
who will be the last

xo







Monday, February 1, 2021

 



CENTERING

Centering is what I am aspiring and inspiring towards.

My dad died last month. 
It's hard to think, say, write, feel these words.

This morning I woke crying. 
How is this possible I ask?

 But no one hears me. 
Larry, asleep beside me & Charlie B, good dog, snoozes at our feet.

I'm painting mandalas on rocks found at the beach, 
other rocks I throw in the water just to see what happens.

I've taken my first pottery class. 
I walk in circles.

I am untethered, and though there would be a time this would be divine,
it isn't right now. I'm floating, but not on my back, not like he taught me.

xo






Friday, January 1, 2021


 NEW YEAR 2021



And so the new year begins
and though we've each held 
tight to much angst in 2020 
let's embrace the kind ways
we are touched & cared for 
the feelings of great sorrow
but so too the JOY moving
& touching us each deeply
 
the trees teach us how to be
trusting each storm will keep
 us deeply rooted and upright

reaching towards a heaven we know little of  
the moon, sun, and stars: dreams of peace

xo