Beyond Sight

sequoia-sempervirens-aptos-blue-barkI love you
and the way you see
the world

but I feel more
without you

the soft and the hard of it
the hot and the cold of it
the up and the down of it
the sweet and the bitter of it

the prickly


cushy of it all

I rely too much
on your vision of things

so from now on
I will take the delicate hands
of your blind
but sensible siblings
to help guide me through
this wilderness

Where I Live

WP_20160227_009I live under a plum tree
in a butterfly nation
balancing the things that pull

watching bees dance
through the oxalis forest
until settling on
the bright purple thistle flower

I live
in a redwood grove,
dancing naked in the cold winter rain
dreaming deep time

I live
at a cold heart-shaped lake,
just past Hurricane Ridge
warmth and wisdom
returning to my bones

I live
beside a city lake,
writing the wrong things

I live
on the musical road of the north
leaving behind
a cocoon carcass
but spinning another
with silk too thick to break

I live
in limbo
with four wheels
chasing the fantasies
on the edge of the West

I live
in a room
haunted by death
under a giant live oak
not knowing where
she’ll be in the morning

I live in an attic,
waiting to see
if she’ll finally come home

I live
on a rooftop,
playing fiddle with a sunset
hearing the sound
of a world breaking

I live
in a driftwood shelter on the beach,
absorbing waves
that never cease

I live
on the shoulder of a marsh,
arguing with mosquitoes
and storylines

I live
in the guest room,
deepening friendships

I live
in a cemetery,
confronting death
so I may live

I live
in a field of rattlesnake grass,
threshed like wheat,
only kernels remain

I live
among bay laurel & madrone
and a quirky Quercus
falling asleep to owls of the old
waking up to tweets of the new

I live
on a mountain pass,
seeing where I’ve been
and where I’m going

I live in
in a red rock canyon,
descending so I may ascend

I live
on a jagged foggy sea cliff,
ebbing and flowing,
but rooted like iceplants

I live
beside a creek, naked,
cheerful banter
with a yellow warbler

I live
at the edge of an alpine meadow,
sprouting like wildflowers

I live
on a hill overlooking a bay,
gaining perspective
breakfasting with wild people

I live
on the sandy banks of the river
serenaded by frogs
and a simple flowing song
tucked in by the milky way

I live
on a pine needle carpet,
grounding groundlessness
soft and spacious

I live
on the thrilling threshold,
stepping into myth
truer than fact

The Silence Beyond

Silence beyondI sit at the feet of the tall ones
Apprenticing to redwoods
to learn an ancient dialect

Sitting in circle:

Grandmother teaches stillness
Owl sings lullabies
Bird tells stories
Creek gently trickles

In time, the chirps settle down
Gurgles fall away
even that high-pitched tale from the treetop of my head,
that strange frenzy
loses all energy

the canyon is at peace

Yet beyond that
in the cave behind the waterfall
I hear the language of Deep Time
Where even words of wisdom
are mere distant echoes on the wall

In the grammar of stillness
A patient heart seed
takes a cosmic breathe
and I hear it
closer than my own heartbeat:

the silence beyond sound

Redwood Tears

IMG_4293Grandmother Tree:

Come into my hollow
my sacred redwood nook
Cradle in my dears
let’s have a little look

Rest your heart against my skin
I’ll hold you while you weep
Tell me about your sacred wounds
your stories I will keep

Let’s cry some redwood tears together
here, have some in your lap
lets hold each other for a moment
join our tears with sap

I’ve had some big ideas
I’ve been burned as well
Do you think I got this tall
by dwelling within my shell?

They tried to slap me down
they tried to petrify
I just kept rooting downwards
and reaching towards the sky

consult your forest council
consult your inner light
rise rooted like the earth
grow to your true height

so my beastie sisters
put on your fiercest horns
paint on your charred war paint
and cry your wild roar

Graveyard Meditations

img_2376flurry of fall thoughts
like leaves of apricot trees
scattered over graves

I’ve spent some time everyday for the last week or so walking and sitting in a nearby cemetery.

During Sunday’s big storm, the first big rainfall of the season, I sat in the graveyard apricot orchard just enjoying the new blessing of water.

When I told someone about it, they said, “Well, that’s just sad.”

Yet it has been grounding and nourishing. It really puts things into perspective and helps me to appreciate everything that I have and everyone in my life. It reminds me that no one gets out alive, so rather than grimness, it evokes gratitude.

Far Wiser

tree-big-rootsI’m listening
to these oak roots
searching for water
in soil where gorgeous worms
make their home

to these leaves
soaking sunlight
secreting sugars
feeding expansion

these delicious aromas
traveling the world
on invisible currents

the seeds splitting open
at just the right time
when the perfect warmth arrives

all these
are far wiser than me

I’m listening