When the wind strolls
in, my meadow friends
dance and bow.
When waves rush
to crash across
my ocean friend, wide beach
smiles back at me and the eagles
on wind above etch sky-to-horizon greetings down
all the way home
so strong, having learned to be carried.
Can you hear the old playground laughter
between the creaks of empty swing-sways?
Hear playground teasing
within little sister crow’s
following big sister eagle back and forth
back and forth
boat house to nest
nest to boat house
boat house to nest?
Smile in self-recognition as
red-wing blackbird then begins
to nag big-sister crow.
Can you cherish the faded flap-flapping flag
forgotten by neighbors in their rush to return to the city?
Cherish wind: an
absent spacious presence?
Cherish sand: a
shattered toe-hugging perfect imperfection?
Cherish the polished-cream beauty
Here stones, books, and gentle evening light
invite themselves to play—
sated, triumphant, wildly creative,
complete within themselves, which feels completely inappropriate.
Silent and awkward at just the right moments.
Welcome. Please come in.
Humans invited here are few and far between.
Only those who gleefully join the chorus
certain their voice improves upon books
dancing warm light
And those certain of nothing at all.
All those invited
come to play
certain of little more than sea
Lost accidentally or on purpose.
quiet enough within most days to hear it.
I’m so glad you asked me in with that sunbeam
when I was a crying child.
I’m more glad that invitation
is absolutely everywhere now
when I look for it.
If I was a person
would destroy me.
Good thing then that I am
at peace under your fingernails.
A robin on her nest.
Shining feather grass
waving in the ditch.
at rest in the sky.
And the wind
rolling foam into waves
for the fun of it.
You may be a woman weeping.
You may struggle, petition, march, vote, scream, follow, vent, and lead.
What I see is a creator laughing out loud
on the very worst of days.
I see you.
You may be
by all the sides
I witness but do not feel. Deep down
where my bones are
there are no sides.
Me. I just love this world of ours.
I am this world of ours.
Events don’t change that.
I am here naked and in gratitude.
Only in gratitude do I come to you.
Only in gratitude do I listen to you.
Only in gratitude do I learn from you.
I stand here with you.
I will receive
receive arrogance and ignorance.
I will receive the blood you spill.
I will hold it all
as my own.
I am love.
Try to wash me from your hands and
witness straight lines melting into rivers.
I will turn your rigid bones
the old man up the hill
tends the garden
of the woman next door
the woman behind us
up the hill
donates supplies to schools
the woman who lives beside her
takes her sick dog for very slow, sunny walks
to sniff the life from dewy blades of grass
while ailing pup still can
our neighbor below
home-cans food gifts for friends and family;
took in a toothless, clawless cat
so she’d have a safe and sunny retirement
another neighbor tends to her partner
through poor choices within dementia:
she’s stronger than the strongest battleship in existence
another neighbor devotes her life
and hosting the wandering and lost;
drops food by when she has extra
which is often
walk the perimeter
intending to keep us all safe
all give us tips
for who to call
to get our roof repaired
and where to go
when our eyes need a tune up
and what to do
when the power goes out
our neighbor eagles
cry to each other
when they’re bringing dinner home to baby;
and cry to us
pull forth the child from within us
every time they pass the shore
once I threw on two different shoes
in a rush to greet them
our neighbor deer
teach us to sense presence before we see it
remind us of the unfathomable power
our neighbor rabbits, birds, and insects
leave wonder-inducing patterns
in sand and snow
teach us new-old games as adults
we’d all but forgotten…
our saviors are our neighbors
our conversations, prayers
lands on holy ground
Muse #1: Mine
This is My home
I am allowed to
retreat and rest
speak my mind
make a significant difference
fully embrace grief
Muse #2: Yours
This is Your home
Will you invite me in?
Want me to stay?
Ask me to return?
Muse #3: Ours
This is Our home
Can we all feel this moment
as Mine and Yours and Something Special
down into our bones?
Muse #4: Privilege
Privilege is being stretched while feeling loved.
Any place, any moment, any sensation
within which we’re learning, feeling the edges
–while being loved–
and so can grow
to appreciate differences among mine, yours, ours, and home.
And any moment
within you and without
that you can find a space where you are loved.
This place, this moment, this sensation
today is privilege.
Any moment we can stand up for this place, moment, sensation
for weeping selves and hurting others:
imagine this a given, the default, the real for all
is privilege too. Breathe in and just imagine…
Muse #5: Home
My Old Pal Reflection
Cat Paw Presence
Time for Play
Pakistani girl walking to school
Syrian family fleeing the unimaginable
Lebanese nurse going to work
Lebanese father waiting for coffee
Student, everywhere at once, leading
demanding, becoming, better leaders
Each new voice saying #BlackLivesMatter
Muslim security guard saving a stadium of people
French death metal concert goer and the wife praying for you
Blood-spattered child covering your head, crouching low
fleeing a school shooter. Parent whole-body pressed against a chain link fence
willing life to your heart, your world, on the other side
Bullied gay man
Harassed transgender woman
Korean government protester
Wounded and weeping Palestinian family
Haitian woman reimagining rubble into art and faith into school supplies
Arab Spring protestor
Occupy Wall Street tent dweller
Sobbing Kenyan university student
Man crossing a dangerous border
crossing an imaginary line
risking death for your family
Old woman and man standing together in the rain
protesting corruption and greed behind the war
Neighbor who just lost your daughter
Neighbor who just lost your wife
Mother losing her mind
Citizen, voter saying enough, digging deeper, learning more
changing yourself in the face of overwhelming pressure and fear and outrage
Factory-farmed animal and fish
Pipeline, wage, climate, environment, and freedom protestor
Earthquake, tsunami, wildfire, illness, rape survivor
And the one who didn’t survive
Police officer, soldier, government employee,
journalist, religious leader, politician, guard,
academic, teacher, and healer
trying to protect, to do the right thing
trying to live a just and kindness-filled life
trying to fight despair and growing anger within
inside a massive old system that gives you precious little time for it…
I am breathing more deeply with you
your whole earth, your whole sky, your whole soil, your whole water
I love you
don’t think that the mass media
–controlled by a handful of humans, no matter where we are–
or social media
represents a whole truth here on Mother Earth
or means anything more
than a handful of sand tossed into the ocean
if it forgets you
You are not forgotten.
You are not forgotten.
Every breath. Every experience. Every tear. Matter.
Matter far more than we can know.
Our ears tune to a wider frequency
beyond technology, beyond religion, beyond ideas
of right and wrong and good and bad
I look to my own heart
the physical one
feel it beat
the emotional one
notice that heart connect to the pain of so many others
I feel the frequency of heartbreaks these days
I feel the earth cracking us wide open
I look at the list for whom my heart breaks today
just today. just right now.
and marvel at its infinite capacity
hearts around the world
are breaking for each other now
hearts around the world
hold yours within theirs now
touch your heart
feel it beating
that is my heart
sit on the soil
look at the sky,
feel the breeze
hear and smell the neighborhood
that is my body
oh your heart, dearest one
is the heart of a whole planet
your tears fall upon our crops
investing in shared futures
your laughter lifts our spirits
a salve upon our now
blessed are the forgotten
only we know for certain
I Love You is a wider frequency