We actually transform the world from within our hearts. —Rainer Maria Rilke, letter to Anita Forrer (January 10, 1920) “But I need to do something to fix this now,”says the fixer. And the doubter says,“What can be done from across the world?”And meanwhile the woman who reads the newsfeels a tear fall down her cheek.And […]
was a single dropof melted snowthat clung to the tipof a tight red budat the endof a naked branch.It didn’t have toshout or singto make me fall in lovewith the way afternoon lightgathered inside it.Such a simple pulpit,such humble gospel,this radiant preacher,this silence in whichthe prayer is madeof listening.
It didn’t last, but there was that afternoonwhen we were walking side by sidedown the middle of the street,all four of us straddling the center line, different musicians every few blocks.It was Father’s Day. The alpine sunwas hot but not unbearable, and we stoppedto listen to the bright brass of the mariachi band. My kids were not […]
The autumn rain was not warm, but soft,the kind that makes everything shine.Even the sidewalk. Even a Tuesday. Likely the air smelled of leaves and cut grass.Likely the birds were a riotous chorus,because that’s how it is here in fall. What I remember so clear is how yourushed out the front doorin your favorite hand-me-down dress with brown […]
As if the whole world depended on itI nestled deeper into your warmth,made myself soft as morning light,soft as a lullaby, softer than that,as if wars could be stopped andpeace achieved if only I could make of my flesh a place so safeyou could sleep.
today’s poem mentions suicide–I mention this so you can choose if you wish to read it There’s no easy way to say it.I told them. Our son died.They were sitting acrossfrom us, our new neighbors,afternoon sun streaminginto the room with low spring gold.Their grandson sat on our floor,a teaspoon the only toy I had […]
I sat by the pond and watchedthe blue dragonflies landon slender green reeds.And the sun was warm andthe air was still as I was still,which is to say the air pulsedwith aliveness and so did I.If someone could see the picturefrom that day, they might thinkI was sad. No slip of a smiletouches my lips. […]