On finding joy again

Seeking community
Seeking to be a wildflower,
Singular amongst a field,
Yet full of a sense of belonging
And knowing she is beautiful

I have spent days idly sitting
Holding my hurting heart
In too-small hands
Raindrops running down
The window to my soul

Where is the wildflower
Waiting to burst forth
In a righteous field?
Questions filled my mouth
Like ash and dried me up

Yet my Soul allows this
She settled around me
A cloak protecting
My divinity, keeping me whole
Until I could quiet myself once again

And one day I remembered
That I still have hands
Capable of reaching out
Both to ask and to give
Of my body’s gifts

I ask and I give
And then suddenly I find
Myself lending hands and voice
To sing devotion
And experience Joy

My voice is full and my eyes send
Tears of gratitude to my heart
Where they bathe her and thank her
Continued devotion to my body
She is a daffodil

I join my voice in Holy
Communion the best way
I know how- I sing with the choir
And marvel at the voices
Separate, and holding

Their own distinct beauty
But together, we are a field
Of wildflowers
Singular in our beauty
And a miracle to behold together

Some are new blooms
Just starting to understand how
To take the sun’s offering
Nourishment to coax
The bloom into showing

Others are starting to
Wither and show their age
Yet still they raise
Voices higher to give thanks
To our own personal God (or Soul)

In this field of beauty we show
The true meaning of seeking
Holiness, together
Yet separate and we all sing

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The need for change

Let me in

Oh God, let me in

Let me in so I can follow
the internal thread of desire down to its source
Show me that hidden entrance to my heart
the entrance that, once found, is lost to me no longer

Let me remember that heart-pound, that quick shaking of limbs
that tells me loudly


Yes. This is it.

A catch in the throat
and an up-welling of tears…
The kind that can’t be stopped

And why would you want to?

For if, like me, your tears taste of truth
then we should go in.  Together.
Just to remember that we are not alone

We stand together, on legs made strong
with Love and compassion
And our hearts that beat in tune with Love
cannot be stopped

Tell me, what is stronger
than the pull of metamorphosis?
The need to change
that cannot be denied

And why would you want to?

Because all we ever do is change
Change with season, age, wants, needs

We need to change in order to grow.
We need to desire in order to change.
We need to open in order to desire.
We need to accept in order to open.

Must I go on, or have you had an epiphany?
A glance out the window
A searching of your face in the mirror
A quiet contemplation

Love never changes
And when you remember that,
I pray you will remember how it feels
to fall down in gratitude instead of sorrow

Sometimes, all we need is to answer the knock at our door.

Let me in.



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a poem of sorrow

Bitter winds remind me
of how frail I really am

This is no poem of great strengths
hidden inside a misplaced footstep

This is a poem of all the ways
in which I fail

This is a poem in which
disenchantment reigns

Here I  lay down the words
words that are seeds sown in fragile soil

Words which remind me
of how very human I am

Head bowed, hands still
I lay my sorrow here

In front of this place
of resignation and acceptance

That we can’t always be
in a place of great certainty

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An end is just a beginning of something new

Sometimes there is no magic ritual
no lighting of a fire and placing objects in sacred orientation

Sometimes there’s just packing up what was
and moving into what is

Maybe there are tears
maybe there aren’t

Maybe you hurt
maybe you don’t

But all  things come to an end
in their own time

All you can do is accept the end
when it says it’s time

Pick up the bones
and piece together something new

I think you’ll be surprised
at what you can create

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true love

True love is listening to all those voices in your head
tell you that you’re not good enough, smart enough, strong enough,
beautiful enough, man enough, woman enough
and then telling yourself that
You Are.


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If you can feel all the ways
in which I love you,
then you know all the ways
in which I love myself


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I won’t apologize
For the How and Why of me
I won’t apologize
for the wit on my tongue
or the openness of my emotions
which flow from my touch
as ink flows on parched paper
I won’t apologize
for the weight of my words
which have the power to
weigh you down or lift you up
depending on where you let them
settle in your body

I won’t apologize
for my falling apart
or my joining of seams,
(both require something sharp-edged
and one should not fear of the outcome of either)
for both hold potential
for creation of something new
which is to be celebrated
and not feared
I won’t apologize
when my gaze doesn’t give
the answer you want
or when my words fill you with
and if you don’t
know what to do with
the emotions I stir up in you
then I bow down to your
fragile yet insistent humanity

I won’t apologize
for lifting another woman
up instead of casting the
first stone
and I sure as hell
won’t tell her
what she should
do, be, wear, create
for her life is her own
and sister, I celebrate you

I won’t apologize
for taking what I want
and leaving what you need
I won’t apologize
for not telling you where to find me
and not leaving you a map
but letting you find your way
with tentative brushing of fingertips
along rocky spine and pale skin

I won’t apologize
for the way
in which I love

For it is with all of me



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