It was palatable as I got out of the car,

the worn grass, tiny anthills on exposed earth,

where a second car spent the summer.

Inside there were the empty places ,

where so many shoes vied for space, until today

when they vanished, exposing bare

floor, in the wake of your departure,

like leaves falling toward

the next stages of their transformation.

I could say I am lonely, but I’m not, really

or that I am just missing you, almost enough.

Though in truth it is the constriction,

this change in the size of my life,

this narrowing toward,the point

at which I might vanish, my story lost.

Unfinished, ghostly, echoing like a tea party,

still faintly visible at the kitchen table,

though now I have to close my eyes to see it,

and the words are indistinct though faces smile.

Entering, I choose a spot in the ample space

placing my shoes, I move toward my bedroom

think briefly, then turn on my laptop to begin

reading the words my fingers create, tapping,

revealing, who it is that I am becomingIMG_0053[1]


Singing Alone, Can I?

I twist my hands on the wheel I hold,
I fight back tears for wondering,
If I try honestly to know,
So will you help me when I’m floundering?

As long as I’m still willing to go,
On past where roads turn to sod,
You’ve touched my heart you know
but can I touch the heart of god?
I thought I touched the heart of god one day-a-a.

I almost never fear because of what I’ve seen,
I know that love is real not just some singers dream
But you know it made us free even
Though we don’t recall
We built beauty together, now
are we going to make it all fall
to ruins.

I have to wonder when I see the things we do
I’m no angel sometimes I’m angry too
It all comes down to loving, tell me are you out or in?
There’s time for feeling there’s still time to begin’.

Yet I have to wonder when that little voice inside
Comes out with mockery because I think you passed me by
I’m only human can you take away my pride?
Getting older will you stay by my side
To Hold me when I wonder

They say that it will be alright you
know I have to wonder.
Just like an angry voice inside, I can hear the thunder,
There’ve been so many harmed
For faith color or gender
I’ll fight until the end and still I have
To wonder
Can I touch the heart of god ?

I’m only human can you take away my Fear
I’m Getting older will you come and hold me near,
Hold me when I wonder
Can I touch the heart of god
Just for a moment, one more time.



MUSE ( Unedited)

The muse that guides my heart is life itself. The mystery of that one thing, common to all, that touches me. I who see it everywhere, light, lifting the wrinkles of octogenarians faces with smiles filled with light or glowing softly as if woven from the touch of their eyes on the, unmarked skin of a newborn infant.
The eyes of parents that tell me that the child they are holding is their first, a look of wonder at a pleasant surprise, cars pulled over andpeople gathered to see a rainbow across the sky, the power of feelings; hope, grief, laughter and tears, filling me with the awareness that the capacity to feel is, in and of itself, a victory.
The million coincidences that hold life together and make meaning of mystery. Goosebumps and tears, silences and music.
Bright waves of Celtic fiddles song and the deep mystery of monks chanting. Long moments, sometimes days or weeks, when happiness is just a fact, the many colors of light on human faces, glancing across the water and in the every mood of the sky. The shiver of foreknowing when I feel the shape life makes and the surety as it brings me the knowing, the cool of water by the brook and the warmth of the stone where we lay after swimming naked, the purity of innocence that lights a path to walk with surety, the feeling that all is as my will calls it to be.
A light that I call upon when strong feelings grow that tells me what to say and how to go.
My muse knows what has lack and what is right, It walks with me and will until the day, when, I in that days light, wander away.



Time’s way

Time moves on, immutably It goes,
Sluggard in strife, in joy too quickly flown,
though where or whither we lack the sight to know.

In youth it goes so slowly on it’s way,
and all our frenzy will not speed nor slow,
time moves on, immutably it goes.

With school days past our tasks and trials grow,
from crest to wave like windblown spume we go,
though where or whither we lack the sight to know.

Beyond all tasks we yearn for love to grow,
We pray our fate to send dear ones to know,
time moves on, immutably it goes.

In elder days the hours seem to slow,
though sight will dim, the heart felt way we go,
though where or whither we lack the sight to know.

Time moves on, immutably It goes,
Loved or loathed it travels on its way,
each life a trail of light in living sows,
though where or whither we lack the sight to know.

The Mystery of Light Rev. # 1

The light makes edges of my curtains glow,

reflecting warm light across the wall

despite the leaden sky and constant rain,

recalling light from weavers long ago.


Grief tasks my heart to find its memory,

days born and ended in sienna’s glow,

when they brought iron soil to the fire,

and bound the fire to set the color free.


Although a day may find my thinking grim

as if good will were gone, behind me now

my future will reflect the colors brought

by all that light and beauty wrought within.


So much is taken with the passing years,

though grief, despair, and weakness, still remain.

If each heart touched by age will master fear

then change to transformation will be changed.


In transformation dare I to believe,

that courage and commitment can fulfill,

create a future in which love remains,

where lies and lust and power cease to kill.


Inhaling all that rage incinerates

I hold my life a gift and weep it clean,

the mystery is that this we can restore,

to feel, forgive, and deny evil form.


In this I strive to make of my life such

that touching, leaves it better for that touch,

blessed by the light as by a tear filled smile

the mystery, that no mystery can prevail.


Perhaps like the rainbows I have seen,

dispersion paints the covenant renewed

that all light sacrificed to darkness will

resolve itself into one lightened beam.


In this will dark disperse and light return

Is it only illusion, this dream that light lives,

fate cares, and loving intent creates beauty.


Despite faith, my certainty has been bruised.

Endless wars, the surrender of so many,

the loss of their light, their youth, their lives, and hope.


By light accursed, that by our will was slain,

to melt the faith of all who could believe, as

Hiroshima and Nagasaki, died


The awful truth of all complicity,


That conscious choice or not we have agreed,

for all atrocity we will not fight

is strength lent to the dying of the light.


I am tired again, as happens more often,

Still, today, the sun kissed curtains are enough

for me to remember, the beauty of light

and in this, for generations yet to come.



barred_owl_Strix-variaThe path I tread Is marked in growing light,

illuminating all before my eyes,

revealing every heart that I may see,

It gifts me words of light to set them free.


The touch of light illuminates my way,

across the hours unafraid and sure,

In vision joined with ancient alchemy,

awake my soul creates the truth I see.


The blessed sight, of light too pure to know,

a moments touch can bring a lifetimes rest,

A joy so pure to know, this precious sight,

I take the path and walk in healing blessed.


My sight is touched, alight each blade and leaf,

times glowing ribbon flows with passing days,

till I sated will rest beyond this walk,

leaving my light to light another’s way.