Daily Breaths

Small Blue Bowl

Yesterday I carried a small blue bowl full of scented oil across the lawn. I held it lightly, mindfully, noting each step, attentive to not spilling. A thought darted through my mind, “Too bad you don’t carry your heart this carefully.” Another zinged in close behind, “Wouldn’t life be lovelier if you paid this much… Read more »

In Memoria

In Memoria: Blood memory of time Coughed in turbulence that tubercular life An arm severed when but a boy. Blood wedding, for Lorca knew. Blood drained in leaches, through dark lesions When memory could hold no more. Those faces– mine. Known to you. You my mother, my friend, My Captain, my child, my slave. Mated… Read more »

Unwritten Books

Are we unwritten books waiting to fill each blank page with our idiosyncratic beliefs and characters? Or, is it a previous plot, a soul’s memoir that leaves space only for prepositions and minor detail? (Oh lordy, those seemingly small, insignificant prepositions that instantly change the face of the moment.) In the vitality of spring the… Read more »

Mothers of Invention

So much to be said about mothers; choosing one, having one, being one, not being one, leaving one, her leaving. The umbilical cord of DNA connecting us to a known-stranger, who feeds us by & with transfusions, implantation, information, transformations….so that link by link, bone by bone we birth ourselves into being. The parental axis… Read more »

May Day-May Day

Not a celebration in sight. We should be screaming “help.” What happened to the May Pole? The ribald spring rites of procreation, and consecration of the land? In the power of celebration lies community. In the haunting sounds of shared laughter, we remain connected. In the primitive power of the circle, implicit in chant, song… Read more »

Earth Day/Spiritus Jubileo

Gaia is in her glory—as are we who tend her. Eternal female, she appears on her day/Earth Day dressed in a rainbow of silks, flowing chiffons, with a halo of daffodils twined on long curling tresses, and pedicured toes sporting silvery moon-rings. Her Venusian beauty vibrates, giving off rich scents of possibility. After her winter-crone… Read more »


Nirvana Spring sun whispers compared to August fire Its timid warmth more cherished As though it can only outline, Tease out fullness And fool’s folly, hope. Surviving another cold sojourn The bone-life, Where Nirvana comes hard April incandescence uncoils us, Small Garters twisting on warm logs Shedding to shape-shift. Asana: Vrksasana, Tree Pose. Stand in… Read more »

Holy Hell

For those who garden in the North East, spring days are holy, they are also hell…. So much to do all at once, alongside such splendid joy and incomparable relief at winter’s release. My eyes rove over winter-white grass, broken branches, and withered rose cane. Suddenly, the luminescent green throat of the Grackle, the pear… Read more »