A Poem for Peregrine

FullSizeRender(2)Peregrine, Peregrine
not once, or twice,
but three times
a guest
my home,
or is it yours
that I have visited?

What feathered wisdom
might you share
if I would
have the ears to hear?

apologies, my bird-speak is minimal,
but I’m learning
to read
the poetry of your
silent swoop
toward me
eye to eye

you perch patiently
on the laurel limb above me
before articulating your ascent
posed as a question:
Will you follow?


Moon Shadows

IMG_6395Two little lunar poems inspired by our time last night hanging with the moon. I know these words are just fingers pointing, as Rumi said, yet the moon is pointing back.

Turns out we can’t
catch our moon shadows
even if we walk backwards
it follows us
So we play with them
forming hearts with our arms
as if to say:
you too are welcome here


this celestial theater
is good company

I feel in my bonds
bonded to her
sitting far away
on the other side of the mountains
bathing in the same light tonight

And to you all
as if mesmerized by a campfire in the sky
remembering what it means
to belong and wonder
Finding our own pace

and to coyote
who at midnight sings his aria
so we join in the lunacy

and to sun
wanting to be with us so bad
reaches out across 93 million miles
and touches the skin of Sister Flower in the garden of the sky

on nights like this
when the moon comes out to play
Loneliness doesn’t exist

One Wild World of Belonging

IMG_6374Day 60, Experiment 124: Another evening in the forest, and a forest evening in me, the eternal song.

Sword ferns
slink into shadows
as the day descends
ducking away from the moon
making my tea taste
rather lunarly

It lingers
on my tongue
with sharp clarity

like the owls saluting
the darkness sinking
into insects serenading
bats πŸ¦‡
swimming on the wings of the evening
around the bay laurels,
lending their sweet breath
to the sunset symphony
speaking truth into
this one wild world
of belonging

Fall Away

c244ac380594f873912364f47ef5f1d7--autumn-leaves-autumn-fall (1)In a world struggling desperately to find some semblance of balance and to integrate the shadows, may we receive the blessings of the Fall Equinox.Β πŸƒπŸ‚

Hover here for a moment
feeling the balance
between darkness and light
between drawing within
and explosive expression

harvest your juicy
sun-soaked fruits
perhaps too easily procured

honor the growing shadow
it’s okay to grieve
the dry and dying

relish the transition
and let the leaves no longer needed
flitter to the floor
limbs to feel
all the more lighter

Loyal to the Earth

IMG_6219I want my words to be loyal to the earth

a celebration
like the spots on a fawn
prancing through new pine
or a new dawn dancing past the night

I want my words to be as soft as a bunny’s butt
and feather grass
smooth as madrone skin
a woman’s inner thigh

Yet also, I want them to be as hard as wild walnuts
tough as granite breaking feet
and egos
deadly serious like a lightning strike splitting spruce
climate chaos
carrying away the normal
on waves beyond control
as prickly as a yellow jacket
or poison oak, that’ll leave you itching for weeks

Words that wake you up
like a cold splash of mountain creek on your morning face

I want them to lead you gently into the arms of your DreamGiver
an owl’s hoot under dark skies

But also startle the rut mind
like a buck launching from the brush
Or a bright red snow plant popping up among the ice cups
in the fir forest,
an eager phallic invitation to Spring

a surprise double rainbow after the thunder storms,
when “OMFG!” seems the right response

I want my words to be stained purple from picking wild blackberries
and juicy plums in June,
Or sexy like a peach rose opening
borage bringing all the bees to the yard

I want them to allow the wind to blow through
its invisible currents carrying secret scents
tickling the hair on your forearms

above all, I want them to grow from the soil,
telling truth, loyal to the earth


Tell the Truth About the Season


fall leavesIt is important to tell the truth about the season.
You can try to live summer in the winter
Or morning at midnight under the full moon
but eventually, the season is revealed.

It’s Fall.
The world takes a deeper breath
and a sacred pause

It’s raining yellow bay leaves and brown needles
in the redwoods
they’ve slipped on their autumn coats overnight
dropping yesterday
to the ground like an old story
that no longer makes sense

They know when to let go
offering the best of their beauty
as gifts to the land
and the next season,
each leaf an invitation
to follow our own turning

It’s Fall.

The world takes a deeper breath
and a sacred pause
to peer backward and forward
a moment of transition

We will harvest the things that can be harvested
But we know the things that must fall must fall
for the new ground to be prepared
with the composted remains
of what no longer serves

It’s Fall. Can we finally tell the truth about the season?

In the midst of the big race,
the world takes a deeper breath
and a sacred pause
while the leaves of the empire fall out of our hair

You know of which empire I speak
the one whose summer’s shoulders brought
great gifts: all bright and fast and furious
and juicy and sexy and convenient.
And more. It always brought more.
whether the more was what we needed or not

But it promised too much
and took too much
and now the Great Descent has commenced
the Great Unraveling has arrived

There will be a buttoning up
a shrinking of the afternoon
a shedding

It’s a moment to tell the truth about.

Perhaps we fear winter
because we don’t yet see what new spring awaits
but press your ear to the ground
of your being
and you will hear:

seeds of the new dream
already planted
in the soil of our gentle, beating hearts
seeds of belonging
planted in Deep Time

and we know
there’s no way to spring
but through the lengthening dark and cold
and wet and unknowing

Let’s tell the truth: it’s Fall.

The world takes a deeper breath
and a sacred pause
and if we allow it,
so do we