Tag: #iphone photos
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I’m not religious, and I hope I don’t offend anyone by saying what I believe. I believe in a higher power. I believe that higher power is manifested most purely in love. I don’t mean only romantic love, though that is one form. In our culture, that kind of love is held up as a…
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Grateful for lamb’s tongues abuzz with bees on a late-spring evening. It was one of those days where a fog I didn’t know was lingering blew away in the breeze, and all the colors burned brighter.
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Poem-sword in one hand, packing tape in the other, recycling bin in my third hand and tissues in my fourth. (For the dust. It makes me sneeze.) My fifth hand is clutching a steaming mug and my sixth hand is wasting time on Facebook. My seventh and eighth hands are clasped in some kind of prayer,…
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That May the peonies were my countdown— I knew they would bloom when she did. That heady hot spring of unfurling expectation, of watching marching ants making their incredible journeys across Planet Peony while I marked the days. Oh, the heaviness in my ankles, the humidity, the wonder of my belly swelling like a bud…
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Like star charts inside my brain extending to the edges of me; electricity— constellations conducting current, leaping synaptic gaps to link thought to action in my dark interior
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A moment arrives. You let go and suddenly, nothing is the same. But the sun shines still, even on the fallen.
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Ten thousand flowers in spring, the moon in autumn, a cool breeze in summer, snow in winter. If your mind isn’t clouded by unnecessary things, this is the best season of your life. – Wu Men, 12c Chinese poet (transl: S. Mitchell)
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night suddenly pink under streetlamp moon drizzle wets black mulch fragrant as perfume heady cedar, pencil-shaving, sandalwood scent a half-gallon of milk swinging in my hand I drink darkness, taste the sky, swollen with tulip poplar blooms waving in the wind
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Every time I travel I am energized and struck by new possibilities. As the plane begins its descent, I wiggle in my seat and think: I could live here (or there or there). The world brims with sparkling promise, the way ocean waves shimmer and dance all the way to the blurry far off horizon…
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To pray you open your whole self To sky, to earth, to sun, to moon To one whole voice that is you. – from “Eagle Poem,” by Joy Harjo
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