Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Grace in the World

Know Your Truth

Joy Dance

The honest truth

Is that we are all

Dancing to our own perfect


You better move that groove,


Dancing is the heart’s delight. 

Wednesday, April 23, 2014




I walk slowly through the wet and greening


With my mouth half open, the

Better to drink in all of it, all of it.

Sound of rushing water and

Smell of wet forest floor.

Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Wednesday, April 9, 2014



Rain Purple Sky

Young Beech Trees

April’s tattered sky, storm-purple


Yellowed scudding grey in hue,

Folds itself sullen-faced

Over the mountain’s muddy stream beds,

Illumines grudgingly a

Scatter-tatter of young beech trees.


The leaves are see-through thin now, still

Holding Autumn’s remembered ease,

Still vaguely coppery, recalling

Riches long dissipated.

A wealth of well-being long since spent.


I keen and mourn in the kitchen’s cold light

In the morning, out of sight of

Any who could possibly guess,

What I dare not confess aloud:

I wish it had not been he who died that day.

I wish it had been some other,

Someone else.

I, who preach acceptance as the highest wisdom of our Age,

Have not accepted,

In all these years, his passing.


I still fiercely wish for the death of another, if he could then be here.


And I, sullen, stormy, grey

Cling like those spent beech leaves,

Thin as old regrets, pale as tired wanting.


Is it possible that I, like them,

Can green and grow and love again?



Wednesday, April 2, 2014

Spring Evening

Rest Easy Now



Dirty snow yields birch tree seeds

When I bend down low and



And this is my joy, you see,

The seeking.