We are getting older. Leaves are still falling. Oaks with their thousand years cut short lie in pieces in the field, replacing gold and green with grey. The roses curl their leaves in on themselves, and their hips are theRead more…
Right Now
Even now the lake is smoothing its face to see the first stars bursting out of the indigo sky The sun’s luxurious red hair trails on the far hills who have already gone black with sleep. Armed with only theirRead more…
the message is
The River of Life is Salt: buoys you up no problem with tears and sweat stings like a fuck when you get hurt. The Salt is singing. Sometimes, you are not listening. Sometimes, the message is silence. Sometimes the messageRead more…
Grinding her teeth
The Goddess of Flowers is grinding her teeth. Softly luminous, tethered to a million fetal pieces of spring She is clenching her fists. Birth pains ~ maybe. And a hatred of the bare, twisted branches she is trying not toRead more…
Rags
The Empress in her rags on the packed-earth path up the snow-covered mountain stops without a plan turns from the gray shale slopes. Below is the green world and cities that are her inheritance. She notices for the first timeRead more…
Horse
Horse and rider jump – into traffic into water in between the lanes disappearing into everything right there in front of all of us who live and doubt God is surging back and forth restive with his magnificence between yourRead more…
Fingers
Fumbling for the door knob like a drunk with numb fingers with a drunk’s forgetful patience taking so long to realize there’s a blindfold problem… and after that the hall is still dark the door is just a broken closetRead more…
Hands
Don’t you think it’s like our 2 hands this inner life and that outer life? Look down at them – the way they cooperate but differently nearly the same, but with inseparable dexter and sinistry. The outer life is aRead more…
Constant Noise
The Tao asks: How can you live with the constant noise of traffic? What kind of question is that? Have you ever been in an uncharted cave, say, or in a simple blond A frame in the crotch of theRead more…
A Blessing for the New Year by John O’Donohue
Beannacht On the day when the weight deadens on your shoulders and you stumble, may the clay dance to balance you. And when your eyes freeze behind the grey window and the ghost of loss gets in to you, mayRead more…