What the Blue Bird Said to Me Today

What the Blue Bird Said to Me Today

I want you to celebrate yourself.
Shake off your dust.

Find fierce stones that speak to you
hold them, gentle now, then
drop them into rivers
wrinkle your wide-eyed face to focus
as they sink
straight down
oblivious to the current.

Muck arrives through always-clear
water and we receive her nourishment: learning again
what we’re here to attend.
Listen until you can hear
your own cells singing, the blue bird said to me today.
Then, sing. Sing! Here, like this…

Dust burns wild here. The smoke
makes us wretch, too. Still
I offer my tears and somehow hosts
of forgotten children and ancestors
heal right along with me.

Our tears aren’t pulled from us by
some too-strong past, group, or being.
We offer them. We offer them gladly, most days.

So, I speak just to you now—
one offeror to another.

You are being called, right here.
Listen again to one blue bird on a gray day.
Attend her. Attend the voice that comes to your window.
Could you have been wrong about her? Is she really the bully
you imagined her to be yesterday?

All she seems to ask me now is this:
Step into the world.
Get closer. Listen. Celebrate yourself.

Celebrate until all the birds
arrange themselves comfortably
on nearby branches to hear you,
joining the celebration and singing the song
that you learned from them…

Shake off your dust.
Let’s celebrate ourselves together here.

Turning the Wheel

Turning the Wheel

for Lynne



is a voice that says
“You don’t belong here.”

that says
“Your voice is not welcome here.”

that says
“This is my home. Not yours. Get out.”


is another voice
that calls
“Bullshit” on the first voice

that urges “Fight”
urges “Protest”

demanding to be heard
and always
“Speak truth to power.”

and often
“Love wins.”


is yet another voice
“Fuck all this human crap.”

“I really just want a hug and
to lay down in the soft grass.”

“I need a nap.”


Why not?
Why not
allow sweet release
lay down in the grass
take that nap
whenever she offers herself to you?


is presence
within which all the voices breathe
and move and heal
and move and heal and breathe
even more deeply


That I am,
at moments,
all the voices
is uncertain.

That I am
presence, on the other hand—
one infinite now,
within which everything
breathes and moves and heals—
is, when I notice it,
both strange and certain.


When I am uncertain,
usually curiosity
is the best response.
That, or answering
my own “Why nots?”
with fun or awkwardness
or blessed weirdness.

When I am certain,
all response, period,
is a kindness.


I’m fighting for this one, small, immediate and precious life.
Then, by all means
shut the door
kick the asshole out.


breathe more deeply
maybe listen again to Audre Lorde
hear her say again,
“Poetry is not a luxury.”

so maybe next time
you’ll feel strong enough
to invite him in
be so present
that he, too, can breathe, heal.
He is my neighbor, after all.


The devil is just a myth.
I am not


but I forget that.
So here I am again
following my footsteps
raising my hands up, and
turning the wheel.

What Althea Hears

What Althea Hears

From across a great distance

Althea said

940ttti %$%^&*mmm …….!!
¬¬¬¬¬ BB jhut mkopi D74 Se Se Se !


How did she know?

How could she see my life so clearly from the other side of the world?

Yesterday was terrible. I failed. Hard.
I’d made mistakes. Made choices out of hurry and fear and worry.
Made big commitments I couldn’t keep.
Let people down. People I respect and love.
Yesterday I came clean. Admitted my failure. Exposed my flaws. Exposed my need.

I just can’t do this work anymore!!!
I can’t work and live and breathe in this fucked up place—no matter the salary!!
It will kill me!
I am sorry but I have to be free.

Yesterday the whole long, horrible, bloody day felt exactly like this, Althea…

940ttti %$%^&*mmm …….!!
¬¬¬¬¬ BB jhut mkopi D74 Se Se Se !

And you heard them!
You heard the clear and dancing silent voices of pain and of joy.

Today I can see what you were already present enough to see

I am here now

Already on the other side of op3398££$&00!!! and 940ttti %$%^&*mmm …….!!
And definitely past ¬¬¬¬¬ BB jhut mkopi D74 Se Se Se !

isn’t something to apologize for.

is the only truth that can be heard from within, across the world.

Only a creature becoming free again can make this sound.
The most beautiful sound there is…


Only creatures already free can hear it
close up and at a distance
even from the other side of a planet.

Althea hears the clear twin voices of pain and of joy.
Pounds away on daddy’s laptop.
Without apology.



a flash poem inspired by my We Shall Dance With Mountains friends. Amazing photo by Joe Milmoe…



distant galaxies
being born
an opening hand
stretching across
the womb of space

touch the darkness
with spinning fingers
new fingertips encountering
creator being created

breathe in the heavy water
here on the sea floor
expel star dust
wiggle new toes

we dance apart
as light within the dark

as dark we soothe
stitching parts
back together

discover within ourselves

needed to breathe deeply right now: choose 1

needed to breathe deeply right now: choose 1

blank page
empty space
a face turning into wind

bare feet
a fuck-it attitude

a friend’s voice
removing my head from my ass

felt freedom to mess up
keep learning

felt connection to the universe herself

nature before me

shifting from particle to wave

well-filled lungs


closed eyes
open eyes

receiving help

sitting on the earth

a good belly scream

true community

watching a cat video
aka, leaving an offering to the Internet gods



repeating yes and no repeatedly

expanding into frivolity

Sentience (first draft)

Sentience (first draft)

It’s day 10 of #NationalPoetryMonth. Today I’m publishing a poem in progress. This is a first draft and is not finished. First an experience happened: four deer stepped out onto the road and walked directly toward my car down the middle of the road, causing me to stop and look them in the eyes before they moved on. A feeling arrived: awe at our connection to each other and to everything. Then a question: what will happen when we humans begin thinking about ourselves as one generation instead of 5 different generations? And as one with everything? Then some words began to show up for a poem, but they haven’t started to dance yet so this poem isn’t done. I’ll come back to it later. For now, I’m getting enough down to re-create the experience and feeling when I’m ready to come back to it…




Hello deer who stopped my car with your silent presence
pulled me out of rush hour and into enjoy-this-life day


What if we thought about ourselves as one?
About ourselves as one generation instead of many?


7 Lessons in Manliness from the Greatest Generation


Baby Boomer Generation: The Secrets of Aging Gracefully


Generation X Is Sick of Your Bullshit


Millennials Move Away from Political Party Affiliation


Generation Z Brings Tech-Savvy to Whole New Level


Spokes-Deer for the Flock of Deer