Category: self transformation
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grey day
grey day grey clouds grey birds grey attitude the world won’t change because you’re unhappy change your attitude become the light 12-4-23
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Cartography of wild geese
morning epigraph: “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” ― Mary Oliver ——————————————————– forage among lost souls for sustenance hope, maybe you will stumble upon a way out or maybe quietly follow someone down an overgrown path to an unlocked gate or maybe a bread crumb…
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F–k Henry David Thoreau
something, unseen, breaks the taut surface of the pond concentric rings reverberate towards the shoreline let’s me know I’m not alone 11-10-23
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Poem for a broken heart
A match burns Lights candles and cigarettes Kindles a fire to warm your body Destroys a house Starts a forest fire A match burns Water flows Carries mountains to the sea Will quench a thirst, Cool a drink in solid form Brew coffee in the morning Soothe tired feet at night Water mirrors your face…
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Spinning dust mote in space
be patient, the shadow self that flees your feet will return midday, nestle in your lap and beg forgiveness 9-18-23
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a snake eating its tail
every end is a beginning of something new accept it and move on obsess over an ending and you may miss a new beginning 9-2-23
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apple cider vinegar
late at night you read the news and think it is unjust to be held liable for the knowledge of good and evil, if the apple effect has worn off maybe… we should be let back in the garden 9-1-23
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Joseph Campbell meets Mary Oliver’s ghost haiku
it does not matter where into the wild you flee your shadow finds you 8-19-23
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moon rise
just because earthquakes shake mountains and they tumble to the sea is not a good enough reason to stay in the valley and not approach the stars rise up like an eagle the moon has something to whisper in your ear 6-15-23
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Sand in my shoes
I wish I were a mystical man but my toes curl into the sand. I daydream intricate math equations, design homes and landscapes unable to afford the cost. I intuit award winning poems and novels I have no patience or skills to write. Yet, still I wish I were a mystical man but my toes…
My husband's poetry 