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I Like to Write

I start in the far corner

backing my way

towards the door

I coax

the tired, burdened spirits


into the light and air

and invite

the fresh numinous spirits


How can a life be ordinary?

When scrubbing the kitchen floor

becomes a prayer

a place to wash from memory

the dust and the dirt

where we transform and refresh

the very surfaces 

upon which

we base our lives.



Born between autumn and winter

when the evening skies

and the quality of light

are incomparable.

when we are aware

in a heightened way

just how thin the 

membrane is

between all that lives

and all that seems to die.

When we prepare for

a deep, internal rest

and feed on roots

and tend our fires

so that, we can

put our hands up to the coals

and take in

that essential heat 

and quietly delight

in the glowstuff

of our making.



You are my tree

My special place to go and sit

puffed up and silent

with peace and contentment.

I know you have witnessed

great brutality and have wept and

 welcomed lovers, loving beneath your limbs and

Women  birthing their children on your leafy beds

All of this, has deepened your roots.

I am small and brown

hardly noticeable, compared with

your massiveness

yet you always receive me in the most gracious of ways.


The bare branches are illuminated

they have 

stripped themselves down to their

essential winter nature

we in kind, 

mimic this act of self protection

our bodies tighten

our perspective more crystalline

a fusion of wariness and steadfastness


Early March

contemplating another great turn of the wheel

the earth is softening

challenging my inner structure

that has become brittle.

I will take a stick and

dig a hole

a vulva chakra opening

I will lower myself down

and tell her everything

of my deep desires

and of my exhaustion

of my limitations and wounding

and ever present yearning to be one

with her 

wisdom and graciousness.


The new moon energy surrounds us

an auspicious time for beginnings

new ventures into the Self

an alliance of quiet, peace and darkness

so that we can truly incorporate

what it is we really want

even if

it is more than we can realize at this time.

Plant the seed and water it

Believe in it's sprouting

and the vibrant cracking open 



The bales were waiting

all in a row

as fresh and as sweet smelling as your breath.

we would place them

one by one

to keep the weeds at bay

To blanket the earth and hold in precious moisture.

Sometimes, we would wonder

what would be the best way to proceed

to use and protect this precious time

and feed our new love.

The weeds found their way up and out

usually to be pulled and made into richer earth.

Sometimes, they were just left

Maybe even the rootlets of a weed can contribute

to what it is

we really want.

It is hard to imagine

a garden. Our beautiful garden

without weeds.

There's room for them too

amid the bounty of

tomatoes, beans, flowers and corn.


Squatting on a mossy rock

read to spring

down + out

froggy me

smells cool and moist

 filtered light 

my vigilance softened 

by bouncy landings