July 2026

July: The month I was born.

​

A month of long days.

The month of hometown parades.

And corn on the cob.

Shooting stars. Sparklers. Swimming holes. 

Sunshine. Sipping. Days slipping past.

Hold LOVE to it all. xo

June 2026

 

Behind the gauze curtain

twenty-four dark-skinned beauties

stepped to the right and forward,

red dots centered above the eyes

of the women who looked at me and smiled:

My insides turned to the wind,

to the hopes of being recognized

for who we each are:

Crooked teeth or wobbly knees:

Each of us sharing a time and place.

I bowed and turned towards the light. 

xo

May 2026

 With all that's going on in the US of A and the world, 

it's been a time of holding on for dear life. 

                                        It's what we can do. This...and remembering to connect 

                                                            with community and loved ones. 

It's difficult to hold so much loss and confusion 

while balancing against even a blue sky,

yet the vastness offers itself, and in these peaceful moments, 

it's good to know that love is King.

And Queen. And all the kings' horses and birds and more. 

Love is THE way! xo

April 2026

Song makers settled on the blackberry canes

between thorns and sunshine, precious was

the word that came to mind and heart and

as they opened their shiny beaks, I felt the 

song between my bruised ribs, all week 'the

cough' hung to my chest wall, crushed my 

breath and still I sang along with the birds, 

and survived to witness the simple beauty

and joy of it all. And who am I for this?  xo

 

March 2026

 

Don't say it. Not again. The in like a lion, like a race horse, like a broken shelled creature, like there's no tomorrow. Or yesterday. Like you aren't sleeping, aren't well.  Don't remind me of the friends who finally cut loose, or the sisters who no longer call or care. Don't say time heals. Take off your black cloak, it's magic or mystical, don't tell me about the unknowns you carry in your pockets, place on the bedside table. Don't say the sky is falling, or looks like a famous painting. Don't ask me to look away. xo

February 2026

Yesterday, during a three-hour online Mystical Memoir workshop, the invitation given was to write in response to several prompts. One being: Before I Die. And another: Since You've Been Gone. Loved ones lived in the ink I pressed to the pages. Later, in the morning, I accidentally spilled half a glass of water onto my desk, and my words spread and blurred. I cried some more. Tenderness was the word I latched onto as I wiped up the mess and placed the soggy papers on the floor to dry in the sunlight. This morning, as I turn the calendar page on my desk, I notice this, too, had been touched by the blur, and so I took it as a sign to soften. I turned down the light, took the offered cup of tea in my hands, and blew across the surface while making a wish. It's the same wish I often make, but it's a new day...xo

January 2026

 January 2026

And just like that...a turn of

of the page, a turn of the head.

Here's to seeing the beauty in

the smallest moments, in the simple things

 in front of our eyes, and the loved ones

we may or may not be in touch with:

yet the ones who we share memories

and love with. May we hold one another

in peace and LOVE. xo

December 2025

 

December 2025

It's sometimes difficult to feel how time moves on. Gramma Annie used to say it meant you were healthy and happy. When you weren't feeling well or were in a lonely spell, time seemed to slow down. I'll take healthy and ease, joy and wonder over angst any day. But the magic trick is to pass goodness on to others. There are so many folks living on the streets or in their cars. The woman who lives on the sidewalk near our house sometimes rants in a husky, wild voice, but mostly she seems to sleep. I've gifted her woolen socks and hot French Fries, but these are so very insignificant. She has eyes almost the same color as mine. She was once somebody's child, perhaps a sister, or a mother. 

She was once a miracle, and I imagine she still is. xo

November 2025

 

A lone heron took watch over the sea lions; round males

with their hoarse barks, whistles, groans, and big splashes, 

while the women rolled through the water like water itself, 

a slight ruffle on the surface. Other birds arrived in Noyo Harbor

to witness the ways in which the colors of the morning 

shifted and the sky opened onto itself. And I sat with my love 

on a deck overlooking what can only be thought of as 

magic and beauty, with a heart full of thanks. xo

October 2025

​October, when the light shifts and shadows grow long and lovely. 

And the rains start, and your world smells like memories and love. 

The darkness opens and closes like a hinged box where secrets are kept.

The key long given away or lost, or it never was, but still the brass shines.

And just like that, you remember a tiny thing you thought you had forgotten.

xo

 

September 2025

September 2025

Go. Go free, little being.

My entire life, you have 

slept and woke with me,

you have rattled my ribs,

given me voice and song

& for this, and you, I bow.

On the wings that carried you here

take flight on these westerly winds

follow the pelicans in their dances

hooting & hollering their way home

xo

August 2025

come on, really, can you do this?

to open and keep opening

to hold beauty and silence

 to be awed by the moment

to know when to walk away

and leave it all behind

others will stand in your place

but, it will never be the same

xo

 

JULY 2025

 

​Summertime and the living is complicated, sweet, demanding, joyful. It's a life well-lived, a heart full of memories and dreams. It's a Tuesday, and all willing, tomorrow will be a Wednesday, and so on.

My friend, Laurie, suggests something close to the following: Every one of us at the 'table' is simply a beating heart that was once a child. And as my own GRANDchild readies to turn three. #3, my beating heart tosses about inside my flat chest in absolute AWE of his wonder and delights, of his short tantrums and his unbridled curiosity, of the kisses blown across miles, and the very soon hugs. 

I'm grateful to and for the ones who sit at 'my table'.

Dear Self, please let shared stories inspire me to seek clarity to deepen my feelings and thoughts. Let me remember, honor, and cherish the precious child within. Let me create art that sings. xo

JUNE 2025

 

                                                         

                                                         From the west, I'd fight 

for poppies and lupine

 fine lines written on gates

locks of love & death

waterlilies and wild irises. 

​

I vow to fight the good fight.

I'll host a shindig, a rumpus:

A tussle for love and peace. 

xo

May 2025 (another unfiltered morning)

(another unfiltered morning)

 

It's downright amazing to live in a world and time when, within moments, one can walk into yet another unfiltered morning. Instead of witnessing pain, suffering, and broken windows, you are taken down in awe and thanks. For this time, you live in the silence of what the world wants most. It is lush, soft, ancient, and yet also new. You carry it within for as long as possible. The spell will break, you will break, the world will break again. And again. But still it's there, right where you left it, a world full of hope and beauty. xo

April 2025

 

April arrives in swirls of wet winds

the sky putty readying to be shaped

wild onions on the sides of the path

have laid themselves flat and ready

& still we walk to silence ourselves

we savour where and how our lives

are touched and blessed and sacred

for this we stop : like the good dog 

and smell every little and big thing

xo

March 2025

 

March 2025

the waves tumbled and tossed 

toward the shore loud & large 

all I could offer was my heart

xo

February 2025

 

"...where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy..."

I'm not suggesting that Saint Francis wrote these words; I don't know if anyone knows who did, but long ago, we aspired to love, faith, hope, light, and joy, and these sentiments, and more, hold true now. In this time and place of much confusion and many unknowns, these will be our essentials. It's challenging to stay on a path when the ground shakes, but our hearts know where to lead us: Listen carefully. Walk lightly. Hold on tightly. 

xo

Mid-January 2025

Mid-January 2025

December 2024

December:  The first 

I'm the first to awake
 sky dark * stars bright
my wishes came true

*****
 the beds in the house 
filled with loved ones
there is time and pies

flowers from Victoria

​xo