by lori | Jan 8, 2018 | Beauty, Gratitude, Here and now, Nature, Pain, Poetry, Sentience
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... 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 | Feb 24, 2017 | Gratitude, Grief, Here and now, Nature, Poetry
i. see her there that wide open tree out my window the one with gray arm branches, no leaves, and peeling bark? holding divine moss in perfectly twisted hands? the one that all the flickers love? I am breaking, she says, just breaking. ii. Here in this valley between... by lori | Feb 6, 2017 | Dreams, Grief, Pain, Poetry, Wayfinding
Since the inauguration two weeks ago, I’ve been having nightmares. I was too freaked out to share them, until I read Sherman Alexie’s new poem Autopsy about his dream that his passport was bleeding. Thank you, master poet. For sharing your pain. I woke up... by lori | Jan 17, 2017 | Friendship, Poetry
Here in our world, which is cold and dark at the moment, January just became Write a Poem for Friends Month. So all my posts this month will be poems I write for friends. This one is for my friend Danyale Thomas Ross. I considered her a friend for many months before I...