A bird sings a song But it has a voice I think That’s a magpie calling But the bird Sings its words According to choice As do I Calling in my voice Of the sky and the sea In human dialect Familiar Strange And somewhere beneath Is me Poetry Cadence Rhythm And how we are […]
I awoke worried By a fiend of my brain Figment of imagination It cast no shadow as I turned on the light Nor ever will These things which make us fret Toss and turn Tumbling heartbeats in our sleep Are not real To reach out a hand is to smite a ghost The only head […]
We hold ourselves to impossible standards sometimes
The cloud was like a dragon It terrified me I flipped it into a flower And now I am free Thoughts come and go We don’t have to construe We can let them be clouds And allow them to move Freely
The small ant struggles beneath the carcasses of crumb it carries I can barely see it’s tiny legs beneath Relentlessly it marches The crumb sways I hold my breath in sympathy And I feel like that is Christmas this year All the plans Preparations The heavy burden it turns into “Drop it, it’s not worth […]
I learned from the flood that it will stop raining eventually and the water will reach up to the eaves submerge the roof until the house dissapears and so does the earth but eventually the sky ceases to cry and the flood recedes the ground to dry and then grow grass and no one looking […]
The smell of pencil shavings Soft wooden curls lined with graphite The sharpener whirrs I blow on the blade Dust floats to the bin Tools made sharper I sit again The example is before me The rest makes sense I draw the lines Stitching neurons in my head The satisfaction of making sense Is a […]
Learn from the leaf And not the tree Fall if you must But softly Be gentle with yourself Life isn’t easy The breeze tries to carry The wind shatters Tree crashes But the leaf Being light Knows descending gently matters The last week was like surmounting a personal Everest. Hard exhausting climb, exultant high of […]
The revolution of a spiral. A circle. The wind-chime sound of movement. If all we are doing is constantly changing, who are we to claim authenticity? What does authenticity resemble when the self is disassembling daily? Somewhere in all the motion — the incomplete decisions, the conflicting inner opinions — is a small, anchored “I.” […]
Cradling the warm bowl of soup I sip palms tingle as I hug the bowl Heated liquid slides down my throat and starbursts fill my chest All I have I offer to you and my hands are no less warm my heart no less heated for what is shared becomes multiplied *Care is more than […]
