Feeds:
Posts
Comments

progress

what is the sound of one hand clapping
how do you know when a fitted line

fits

every step forward
brings loss in its wake

tears of joy

I am wondering – now in my fifth decade – how I have acquired so much stuff – and why do I still want it?

Oh, I think, I paid so much for those shoes and the purse to match and I do so love how pretty they are – but what do I need of turquoise kitten heeled sandals when I walk in the gravel and mud?

Maybe if I could let go of those shoes and the purse – which I haven’t used in some years now – then the rest will fall out of my cluttered house like these last leaves of autumn.

Will it leave me a sparse and cold winter or a time of clarity for reflection?

Letting go is painful, but it is the only way to learn anything new – make ready for spring and growth.

clean sink

unwashed unsorted laundry
sink with dishes
piling up

poems
waiting
to be wrote

can this string of words be more
beautiful or important
than a clean and empty
sink

Traveling

personal mazes
Walls clear
Or opaque
I see you now
Or not now

Your essence
Lively and real
Lives in my heart and head
You but not you

And you
Passing through your now
my now and not now
My essence
Lively and real
Me and not me
In your head and heart

Your maze has
High walls
many turns
twists
False passages
Fill day’s hours

Don’t let me be a burden
Or obligation
In moments of oppression
confusion
Or fear

I am just this small i

For you

Listening
Breathing
Now my now
Will find you
in
Your now

When we can

love

removing my enjoyment of loving

love

i find love

 

acceptence

forgetting to look

doors open

cell phones

reaching out in that
moment
my day
your night
both working

electronic miracle
these little cell phones
sharing sounds across an ocean of time
nine hours
nine lives transcended
now one now
one joyful now

tangling words
and tongues
we laugh
talking about talking
face to face

later I’m thinking about all the other possible

positions

constant motion

even the sunshine
seemed only to
reflect the warmth of
your voice
back in conversation
like my next breath
your words
enter and fill me

 

constant motion

 

curves of my cheek
indentations of my eyes
breasts
brushed
pressed
held
kissed
by dream
our bodies dancing

 

constant motion
in the light of the waxing quarter silver moon

waiting

now autumn falls full
rain wet leaves
wind twirled twigs lie about
morning comes late and night comes early
i try not to anticipate
your voice
any more than i would

the spring

PULSE OF LIFE

arching back
pelvis rolling
tail flexing back
opening legs – hips expand
relaxing
expand – inhale

rocking
rounding spine
thighs rotate closer
pelvis tipping up
towards chest
contract – exhale

our pulses
in complimentary reflection
each to each

rhythm
in time
our dance
entwined

so simple

so basic

so fundamental

just now

just pleasure

just feeling

just breath