by lori | Apr 29, 2021 | Acceptance, Aging Gratefully, Alzheimer's, Content, Culture Shift, Essays, Flash, Getting Lost, Gratitude, Grief, Neighbors, Pain, Pandemic, Poetry, Respite, Stillness, Strength in Real Life, Unapologetically Odd, Uncategorized, Wayfinding, Women, Writing
1. Our flags always fly at half-mast now.Wide and unhealed wounds on high for the world to seeflap dripping loss and pus rains down into the public square. Below themwhite men, whips still in handand a few hard-yoked women, their heads downplodding alongfacing only... by lori | Sep 7, 2020 | Alzheimer's, Beauty, Content, Culture Shift, Feelings, Gratitude, Grief, Grief and Loss, Here and now, Love, Magic, Nature, Neighbors, Pain, Pandemic, Poetry, Respite, Wonder
This is for Bayo, who prompts me to be more honest and open, more me, and to let go into becoming more us… Some friends are saddened right now by humanity’s apparent reactionary rush to re-occupy familiar ways during this Covid-19 global pandemic (known as... by lori | May 29, 2017 | Culture Shift, Freedom, Nature, Poetry, Seasons
I want to be that hummingbird following flowers from Bellingham to Baja I want to be human, too cheering all the others who follow their ancestral dreams back and forth across imaginary... by lori | May 15, 2017 | Beauty, Culture Shift, Gratitude, Grief, Here and now, Love, Nature, Neighbors, Pacific Northwest, Poetry, Respite, Work
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 work-resting silent on wind above etch sky-to-horizon greetings down all the way home so strong, having learned to... by lori | Jul 21, 2016 | Culture Shift, Feelings, Poetry, Respite
Security /səˈkyo͝orədē/ noun Weapons, walls, blame, and technology are not security. For me security is an open space within. Security is the freedom to be a gentle sprite at rest and moving among ever-shifting hearts. Cross-generational laughter. Borrowing others’... by lori | Jul 7, 2016 | Beauty, Culture Shift, Feelings, Gratitude, Poetry, Respite
If I was a person this world 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. Moving clouds at rest in the sky. And the wind rolling foam into waves for the fun of it. You may...