IF ONLY BEES
Threads of fleeing swarms endeavor a weave
To drape the thighs of mountains
Shocked by sunlight but oh that honey
The syrup of work, obedience, worship
So tiny a world, partitioned
By the majesty of geometry
Tending a teacup’s magic
Then graciously dying of a heart attack
SUBJECT OF MY HEART
I remember you
when you were still subject to my heart
and each night encircled you and formed you
as if you were
slowly lowering yourself into the sound.
Those times the late night captains
leaned far out of their dark ships
to call to us,
in vain though.
HAPPY NEW YEAR JULIANNA
Today is the day you assented
To burst into the world on time
Or did you clamor to come early or
Late? Might either you or I even know?
Today this beautiful storm rakes
Our island in sudden gusts of wind
Roaring through trees around the house.
Somewhere hunkered safe, birds are sheltering
Through this soaking rain I am
Watching from my desk now
Greening the grass in the backyard while
I think of you, thinking it’s your birthday!
It is only natural and not selfish:
I want to tell you from heart to
Heart: celebrate your love of Self
The timeless treasure of being embodied!
Be glad of your incarnation into
The physical, this paradox of growth
Being and becoming in a natural, water-world
So glorious, fragile; so liquid, and impermanent
And real, we do and do not belong to Forever!
Celebrate this song of Self while you can
As your body breathes the air of giving trees
And oceans made for the chain of living things.
Your spirit sings inside you, of birth— incarnating
Into flesh: breathing blood and art, and bones!
Even while the mind one day ceases to be, the one
Spirit— your Real “I”— shines immutable beautiful and free!
April 3, 2020
THE THRILL WILL RETURN
If I should die before I wake
Show me the paths I love to take.
When all the Covid has fizzled like
The body of the wicked witch of Oz
There will be the thrill of the planet
And it might be too much to bear:
In Sardinia- a beautiful mural exists-
By the water a young woman
Holds a lamb in her arms
Her head draped in green cloth.
In Africa where baby elephants
Play and bathe in the mud.
In Europe-our ancient ones still waiting
Under and beside Le Tour Eiffel
Alaska Hawaii Montana everywhere
Open and alive. Go…greet
Each other as war survivors.
Too much to praise so much to mourn.
December 13, 2020
Please forgive me for writing you a Christmas Letter. However, this one is not about our family but about you.
Thank you for delivering our mail every day for the last 10 months during the pandemic.
Especially, during those early days when everyone was so afraid and we wiped down the mailboxes and each piece of mail before opening it.
There we were all protected and safe and you were driving through the streets alone bringing letters, bills, medicine, checks and hope to us from the ‘outside’ world.
After a while we started waving and your big smile and my thumbs up helped ease some of the stress.
Then, you started bringing some packages to the house and we could exchange friendly banter and some water bottles during the searing summer heat.
We started looking forward to seeing you and opening the door to watch for you, waving and chatting ..….seeing you more often than family and other friends.
No matter how bad it was or got, you never failed, you never flagged you never gave in to despair.
So, just know as you drive around our neighborhood, with you Reindeer Head Gear on, that someone is watching. Santa of course but your people too.
Wishing you and your family a wonderful Christmas. Especially, your parents who must be so proud of you.
Now let’s forget about all these words…..’cause I’m just saying………You are great.
With love, your People,
The folks at the end of the street.