with the stone face. The stone heart stone hands stone feet. See in between she has also stone and does not speak. She is acting her part in the dialogue like the wind listening to wind or the wind listening to stone. Stone on wind. Wind on stone. I think you are almost sisters. I…
When the storms of life come bearing down threatening to lash you senseless, seek shelter. Find the warm blanket you caress like the felted fur of your cat curled before a glowing hearth, of breath that fills both heart and earth. Breathe. There’s always time to curse the darkness. After the tears, light a honeycomb…
The great affair, the love affair with life, is to live as variously as possible, to groom one’s curiosity like a high-spirited thoroughbred, climb aboard, and gallop over the thick, sun-struck hills every day… It began in mystery, and it will end in mystery, but what a savage and beautiful country lies in between. by…
I will not regret love. I will not regret hope. I will not regret that I still love the trees and the wind song. That even through grief I have found the world generous. That even through ruin I have found solace in the blackbirds call. by Nikita Gill A strong, almost defiant poem…
Mrs. Nelson explained how to stand still and listen to the wind, how to find meaning in pumping gas, how peeling potatoes can be a form of prayer. She took questions on how not to feel lost in the dark After lunch she distributed worksheets that covered ways to remember your grandfather’s voice. Then the…
My wish for you is a homecoming in this life. A coming in out of the cold; a drying off the icy rain’s touch. In the holy reliquary of childhood memory may you find there the unshakable truth of your preciousness. May you remember the cool and padded graces of your wet feet against stone.…
Put down that bag of potato chips, that white bread, that bottle of pop. Turn off that cellphone, computer, and remote control. Open the door, then close it behind you. Take a breath offered by friendly winds. They travel the earth gathering essences of plants to clean. Give it back with gratitude. If you sing…
I asked my mother where she kept her love and she answered: My love is a golden bird in a crystal cage and that cage is perched on the head of a fat boa coiled at the top of a tree and that tree is surrounded by scorpions and tigers and bears. So I went…
She let go. She let go. Without a thought or a word, she let go. She let go of the fear. She let go of the judgments. She let go of the confluence of opinions swarming around her head. She let go of the committee of indecision within her. She let go of all the…