Blessed are the poor in spirit, theirs is the kingdom of overflow inside. Theirs is the river, and knowledge of its source. Theirs is the riches that do not depend on this world, but continually spring from the well within. Blessed are those who mourn, their comfort shall come from the one whose crown of … More A Poem: Blessed Are

This bright Autumn day has come out of the blue like a choice gift. A pearl drop in the hand. Luminescent reminder before winter’s curtain falls, of what remains beyond each seasons turn. The blue that we speak of, from which these surprising things emerge; this blue is greater and wider, and further afar than … More A Poem: Eternal Blue

We are seekers of stimulation, constant connection. Restless, wanting creatures, dissatisfied and desirous of what we do not understand, and cannot find. So we keep looking, and while seeking connection, we cut off ties. Those threads of gold spun by true attention, we gravely risk when we give of half our presence. And nature’s boon … More A Poem: Seekers

Grace is an ocean that straddles the shores of here and eternity. We stand at the brink and paddle our feet, when grace would have us submerge ourselves and float. We treat grace as something measured out and we judge our portion according to how kindly we view ourselves. We see grace as something to … More A Poem: Ocean of Grace

GRATITUDE I For Jeff Blake My friend asks how to make the other side. As though it were a leap that we need to draw enough breath in to take. But its not an in breath but a release we need. We tell him he’s already there. That heaven is here. And when he is … More Two Poems on Gratitude

I would like to learn to say ‘Yes’, more than not. Not yes to the easy, and familiar, but yes to everything not open yet. To everything for which ‘No’ feels more appropriate. To hard surfaces, like frozen ground that’s still to thaw, and the smoothness of the acorn’s shell. To hidden things, like chrysalises … More A Poem: Yes

Sun on leaves. There is always a shadow side, where the illumination doesn’t reach. Bright light washes out the green without the shadows to balance what we see. The dark green, the backdrop that is needed, for the light to be reflected. I would rather shadows and the things we cannot understand. There is something … More A Poem: Dappled Shade

I think I might like to disappear. Play hide and seek. Maybe just hide, indefinitely. If I close my eyes just now, it’s almost as though I’m not here. The breeze blows whether I exist or not, it finds no obstacle in me. The cicadas sing, the birds still make their evensong. And the rain … More A Poem: To Disappear

I am not perfect, and neither are you. I’m as not perfect as the clouds, in this setting sun, shredded lengths edged by light. I’m as not perfect as a face that’s lived and drawn itself from a thousand daily impressions. I’m as not perfect as the Dogwood, its blossoms scattered by the Spring winds. … More A Poem: Not Perfect

Practice resurrection with me. I do. Every time I watch my children sleep, and breathe. Every time the day rises. Every time that the moon ascends, to prove wonders never cease. I practice resurrection with the bird’s dawn chorus. There’s always a note that carries heavenwards. And in my daughter’s hair, such gold that only … More A Poem: Practice Resurrection