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You

are my grounding love.

 

Lifting me up,

love tingles;

grounding,

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

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Home

The journey

inside a man

will always

begin and end

with a woman.

 

She taught us

to peer up at the sky in contentment rather than glee,

to leave the grass un-trampled, to look for food

where you’d least expect to find it.

 

She is

every shade

of blue and green

and brown and grey

and when night falls

she continues to rise,

moving every current,

every tide.

 

When you awake to the sun

remember

that it is the same sun

that existed 3 billion years ago–

my mother, your mother,

was there, too.

 

In her younger years

she raised her first child,

told them they’d never need to walk alone

that if they fell, to trust her

that if they lived, to thank her

and if they died, to thank her, too.

 

She is never prideful,

ever present, ever strong.

 

She surrounds me

and fills my bones.

 

Earth:

our first mother,

our only home.

 

November 12, 2016

you are a ship

these feelings

of being stuck

seem to be unbearable–

it’s all connected

cyclical

dense

not me

what is me?

well,

it’s sitting under a tree,

maybe sipping some tea,

not minding the clouds

just letting all flow naturally–

see!

that’s me.

sitting in the shade,

not letting the day fade

you are here for one hour,

one year, one day at a time

in your mind

now you, my dear,

are a ship

and this house, my dear,

is your anchor.

you can sail freely,

without ever loosing your capacity

to come home.

 

October 23, 2016

Home

Let them

fall out of me,

like rain,

these words on a page,

they are my blood

four drops in a row

you know

they’ll have me running,

forgetting,

wondering,

“What was,”

and, “What is…”

 

Let the open door

remind me,

remind you

that our hearts

are not just our house;

they are our home

and the rooms they have to fill,

honey–

they’re already filled with Love.

 

Happy Mother’s Day to all the beautiful mothers out there! 

May 5, 2016

The Return

The

extraordinary

powers

of letting go,

magic

of feeling pen

on paper skin–

we are all

cut out dolls

made with razor sharp scissors

let me

let go

and make my art the way I want to.

 

I will whisper away

those sad navy blues

and caress them with specks of gold

found only at the bottom of the ocean–

a place

where all artists can drop their ink

and return

home.

 

December 4, 2015

Truth, Wisdom, Love

The weight

of the Truth

is the weight

of a mountain–

a single Earth.

The weight

of Wisdom

is the weight

of a feather–

a single tear.

It is

bright tonight

as I huddle tight

next to a soft pillow

and a softer light,

shining

the way Love

greets lovers

in the doorway…

November 5, 2015