Sense Walking

IMG_8964This was inspired by witnessing participants of our Writing Wild gathering do what we call a sense walk, where one is blindfolded and a partner guides them through experiencing the landscape through all their other senses. It’s a beautiful thing to see, no pun intended.
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Blind from their chrysalis
they take the first delicate steps

like new walkers of the dawn
in the bright meadow of life

a late winter curiosity guides them
with a friendly hand at their back

and butterfly voices
flit across their swallowtail innocence

as sand sift through
their blackberry bramble hands

like the grains of childhood time
falling upward into their truth

they kneel for a mugwort blessing
feathered across their faces

flowing with the emergence
of springs wings

When Mud Was Our Friend

IMG_6992Remember when we used to run toward the rain

back when we were in love with the world
and it returned the favor?

when we couldn’t
let raindrops fall to the ground
without our tongues
getting in on the action

or pass a body of water
a pile of leaves
without jumping in

and mud was our friend?

and shin bruises
arms drawn with scratches
numb fingers from
staying out too long

were love bites from the world

and just the clouds in the sky
could evoke a song?

now, is it that our only sunset
is the one that’s a perfect 2×4
through the Device
with Valencia filter
that we heart?

our only storm the one
we can prepare for
adequately
informed three days hence?

the only mud found
on our Goodyear tires?

no mud shalt touch thy feet!

I’ve heard that once in a while
a moon comes
out to play in the sky

but to see her
you have to put some things away

I don’t know if it’s true,
but I might
take a peek this month

I just might even try
to run towards some things