are my grounding love.


Lifting me up,

love tingles;


love soothes,

gives permission to be

rather than question.


So much time

is spent questioning:

twenty pools of Walden Pond water and I always try to sift my way out–

but this is sea, not sand.


Knowing your face

is part of my fate…

yes, I feel butterflies,

but they are not fluttering,

they are gliding–

spreading their golden wings over my insides,

reminding me that I am home.



January 3, 2018



I was tired

of me

being alone

with a whole world

to carry

you were here


here, too–

so when I see

the clouds

I see faces in the sky

compassionate beings


like powdered sugar.

We are all


than all equal

we are all


every last drop

of the ocean

must be raised up

with a spoon

before we can move on

to a new millennium

and pretend we were never

so caught up in



I know–


is the time to create.

It is time to create a Buddha.

February 5, 2015


The truth is:

I am

You are

We are here


beings of imperfection

near flawless

in their beginnings,

middle and ends,


imitating any last licks

of life we can mop up

before becoming the next

number, name, picture.


Our eyes

dull our sight

but our understanding

is a mind–


a black on white

sea of looking away

at the reality that is mine,

for now.


July 3, 2014

At Sea

It’s where I learned

that not all friendships

can sail off, into the dawn.


My new day

has pardoned your wave,

asked all, then nothing of it.


I can stand straight,

tall as a sailor

waiting for a lifeboat

that may never come.


And yet there are others

out there, waiting.


I am not alone tugging.


I am letting go,

wondering if all that love

can still be wrapped up

like a gift in the current.


June 28, 2014