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

​

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

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
​

​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

​& 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

​
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

 
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

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 glowxo
​