Contentment

People talk about contentment, like if you got there
You could move in, like a cozy home.
But really, contentment is a moment in time
It makes you want time to stop,
You stand frozen in a moment of crystal clear bliss
For a second or two and then everything,
Death, sickness, disaster, suffering,
It all continues.

Lost and Found

Why is it called a lost and found?
Some discarded jacket, waiting in a bin,
Some neglected dog, for a place to lay his head,
Some foster boy, for a real mom and dad.
Will they ever be found or only relocated.
I guess some people and things are found.
But when you come home, is it ever the same
As that blissful day before you were lost?
Can your heart love in the same way?

Reasons for Believing

So many leaves
God inspired origami
Infinite shades of green,
Thick and thin,
Delicate and waxy.
Branches mottled,
Wrapped in lichen-inspired bark,
Shaped by the teeth of elk. 

Abundance of sea shells,
Sculpted by wind and water,
Tiny internal residents
Turning out meat and pearls,
Minute factories in
Shades of pink and peach,
And sometimes darkness.

Myriad eye-catching stones,
Round or jagged,
Inclusions and brightness,
Composition, hardness
Driven by internal physics
Christened by exposure
An inert celebration.

Butterfly with wings
So clear, I see through them
Like a window. A splashy tree frog
In Tinkertoy yellow and blue,
Climbing trees on sucker feet.
An unexpected field of pink grass.
Snakes sliding gracefully on the surface
Of primordial lakes so deep
We cannot fathom
How they came to be.

The coming and going of rain.

Chrysalis

From icy winter
The flower blooms
The trees bud
The river rushes
Growth ensues.

Unconditional Love Is Not Credible

You don't understand.
I am not sad that you don't love me.
I expected that.
I am sad I no longer have permission
to love you.

How do I tell you you are beautiful,
And kind and loving?
How do I comfort you?
These are no longer credible
things for me to say or do.
It is like drinking coffee
From an empty cup.

You have rejected me.
I should dislike you now.
But I don't.

Tired of Waiting

Responsibility curls around me
Like the petals of a great flower
Leaving me in darkness.
In theory the petals should open
Letting in light and grace,
But its still dark in here
And I am still waiting.
The critical question
Edging all my thoughts,
What if the flower never opens.
I could have given up years ago
Saved all that effort.

Consequences

I don't want to change.
It would break the hearts
Of those who love me
Just as I am
Right now.

New Day

It is a new day.
I will not chase love.
I will love the bird that lights on my finger.
I will not question the beauty of its song
Or the color or condition of its feathers.
I will appreciate its gifts as they are.
I will accept love
I will master love
By letting love master me.

Joy

Set down your burdens.
Joy in solitude
Joy in relationship
Joy in all things spiritual
These are the real challenges
And you'd best face them
With your spirit bare assed naked.

For Resting

I love an old farmhouse,
Tattered enough to care for,
Sturdy enough to trust,
Mabye a little off center;
Full of stories of babies born
And meals shared,
And holidays long past,
Maybe a ghost or two;
A mouse for my cat,
Gate listing a little
To the left,
A garden palette,
Room on the porch
For companionship,
Iced tea on a hot day.
Who wouldn't love an old farmhouse?
Who wouldn't love you?

Accepting God's Love

My soul is a handmade basket
I  will examine its roughness with love today,
Wonder at its intricacy, accept the mystery in its construction.
I will put down my frustration and let you love me,
I will feel your quiet insistence between the reeds
Of my artful imperfection.

Repetitive Living

The snow stops falling.
Birds appear from nowhere.
The dog wants out.
I reach for my shoes.
The laces are knotted.
The dog is waiting.
I pull on my jacket.
I open the door.
The dog goes out.
The dog pees.
The dog comes in.
Nothing requires thought.
My life is without thought,
I can live without thought.

Night Vision

I entered the garden,
Late evening,
Through a vine covered arbor,
Expecting to see tomorrow's expectations
Blooming on yesterday's experience
Where they belong.
I knew where I was headed,
I was confident and sure,
Almost insistent.
Rows were straight
Fences were well mended.

I wanted to believe a pumpkin seed
Always bears a pumpkin flower.
I went on innocently believing,
Insisting, until the storm,
Believing I was a pumpkin seed.

The destruction was complete,
Now the trellis glows
Over broken stalks,
The moon flower radiates
Bluish light over withering truth.
New and unexpected fears
Present their scarlet heads for tending,
Yesterday's knowledge is
Of little help.
The richness of my garden
Is breathtaking and
Tangible, the aroma
Of rotting fruit and earth
And uncertain renewal
Goes to my head.

All I have hope of knowing
Is the ground I am standing on.
I find myself mouthing,
Somewhat against my will,
Yes, God, yes that is enough,
I will study the ground.

Lessons About Money

Money plays games.
It will buy you a candy bar
Or a Yacht
For the candy bar, it wants a smile,
For the Yacht
It wants your ever living soul,
And it'll probably get you drunk besides.
Stick with the candy.

Chasing Dignity

Desire begs me to dance and I make excuses.
I am not young and beautiful.

I am an old woman, older than the vine, older than memory,
Older than the many paths I have taken. 

But the rose does not just climb, it twines sideways and upwards,
Commanding space.

I remind myself, age can be striking and beautiful
And it is not selfish to want to dance.

Climbing

Your voice begs my soul to climb,
Challenges me and draws me to my core,
Helps me feel the soil under my feet,
Helps me find meaning in the vast landscape.

Sometimes, on a dark enough night,
Even scraps of love are plenty,
Can pull me through until morning,
Can wear away my edges.
Can stop the pain.

When I've lost my way,
You paint my soul with normalcy,
Clean anxiety from my face,
Put me in a church dress.

I set my sights on happiness
I can sleep.  And I do smile.
I do smile.

A Letter to Truth

I am not ready for spring
I want to curl up in your winter
I want to stay until the thaw
Until the water, now sliding
Ever so gently under the ice
Reaches the surface
And dares to sparkle.

But in summer,
Oh beautiful summer
We will both go barefoot.

Rain Birds

The rain is falling with intention today,
Smoothing my mind, helping me breathe.
The sound of it loosens my desire.
I discover I am clinging to each of many paths,
As if clinging could make travel easier.

It is January, winter, cold and gray,
And yet I wish to walk in the rain,
Feel the shocking cold,
Feel it wash over me,
Ask forgiveness,
Lift fear heavenward and let it fly.

One Monday

The room is dark,
I touch your soul,
I see you for the first time,
I feel myself crying out for yesterday,
Even for minutes just past
The light hurts my eyes.

There is a certain innoncence
That is lost in knowing someone.

I feel regret.
I mourn deeply.
I let go with speed.
I will miss the darkness
But I will enjoy the light.

Goodbye

I thought I wanted
To touch the sun
It was a fantasy
It was a notion.

I can't touch the sun
That makes me no less
It brings me no pain
It is meaningless
The sun wastes no thought on me.

I can't touch you
That makes me no less
It brings me no pain
It is meaningless
You waste no thought on me.

And still...
You shine.
And still...
I am warmed by your light.

Grasping: A Prayer

Sometimes I catch myself grasping
For things I cannot have
Wishing, wanting, reaching
For love or income or recognition,
As if to bring those things closer,
That will surely go running
Just for the grasping.

I can't claim innocence.
My grasping is not without thought.
It is not without recognition of
How damaging grasping can be,
It is not without knowledge of
The selfishness of the act.
I know the consequences
And I beg myself to stop.
And yet I can't.

Forgive me God for my grasping,
Give me caring enough to withstand it,
Give me patience enough to wait,
Give me love enough to think about
Someone other than myself,
Hold my hands God,
Hold my hands.

Dog's Ears Never Sleep

My dog, she is sleeping,
Eyes closed,
Mouth open,
Breathing even,
Round furry head
Upside down or sideways,
Paws large and relaxed.

Her legs chase a dream rabbit,
White eyelashes flutter,
Her tail, usually curled tightly about her hips,
Lies flat on the bed.

But the ears,
They never sleep,
They are always alert
For my every step,
I sit up.  She is up already,
So that she might follow me
Wherever I might go.

The Nature Of Doors and Stairways

You close the door
Darkness is so pervasive
It covers the sun.
You are covering my sun.
And yet I would trade the sun
For the odd moon
Just to keep you near.

I question the road I am on,
I look for runes,
I hope and pray for change.
I hope and pray that nothing will change.

And when I open the door
The light stills the cool darkness
The crickets stop singing
The birds chant an erie song.
It is upsettingly cheery.
I fear rejection.
I shut the door.
I feel comforted by the dark.

All is well until
I fall down the stairs.