Middle of June
Beneath the moons’s eye
bombs of fireflies scatter,
each soul seeking rest
May it be enough
for the heart to pulse its beat devoid of expectation
spirit singing incarnation,
this body is my home for such a little while
…..when breathing hurts and heartbeats stutter …..and bombs are taking babies’ breath …..when drowning men pull others under …..and every dream is one of rest
May then the circulation pull
and guide the center back toward love
may then we know the deep surrender
May it somehow be enough
There is something primal about teasing life-giving sustenance from just seed and soil
And I’m happy to share my expertise, seedlings and produce freely, with nothing expected in return
Save one.
Our patch is old, a heavy producer of multiple varieties, ensconced in a horse trough for ease of care and coverage
But until you’ve harvested them (at least weekly), tangled in bird netting, sweating and swearing in the summer sun, getting stabbed by branches, stung by mosquitoes and covered in spider webs, you may not understand why we won’t share
And if you want some – you’ll have to pick your own damn blueberries
Stare at the
blue light
until I can feel
my heartbeat
in my eyes
Can’t help but
doom myself
to feel doomed
On this a day without rain
while power outages were wide spread,
cattle on the nearest farm
lay in the round shade of old forest grown
oaks once seedlings.
The spring there has been flowing instead
of drying up like untold numbers do in drought. The farm
in the time of the hunter gatherers has known
many histories and wild game killings.
I remember when an oil well was drilled in
on the flat near a pond. A man removed his clothes
and danced in the gushing black oil.
He was soon joined by a naked woman. They danced.
They danced wildly and hugged in
time, I thought to the music of a rose,
or the patter of the falling drops of oil.
A crowd gathered, cheering. They danced
those two to celebrate their good fortune.
I am pleased I did not miss their dance.
I wondered how in the world they would get clean.
but the crowd kept growing as word got out–
came only to watch them dance.
When my son, Josh was about 8,
he often sang in the shower
One day, when he was in the shower
I heard him singing, then I heard a thump
Concerned, I asked him if he was ok
He said “Yep, I’m good” and continued to sing
When he finished and jammied up,
He joined me in the living room and asked
“Mama, it’s ok if I sing in the shower?”
I said, that’s fine, sweetheart, if you want to
Then he added “But dancing isn’t a good idea”
I tried not to laugh as I said “no, I think it
would be too slippery to dance”
He said “Yep, I learned my lesson, no dancing
in the shower”
An apple a day does whatever they say
A banana at dinner might make you thinner
Cottage Cheese and a breeze goes well with these
Eggs, just the dregs will strengthen your legs
Protein that’s real lean is best so I glean
Chicken’s the pickin’ or you’ll get a lickin’
“If you rhyme any more I’ll walk right out that door.”
I don’t know what to say.
I don’t know what to do.
I guess I’ll write this song to you.
I can’t say the words.
I catch my breath—
I should start with what I love the best.
I love it when we kiss.
I love it when you smile.
I love it when you look into
my deep brown eyes.
I love it when we laugh.
I love it when you hold my hand;
—you let me know that I’m the best.
I love it when […]
