poetry

perspective

perspective

on this first full green-blue day of panicked spring
I cup a little brown mouse in my palm
put my lips to her round warm ear
and whisper
until every last fear has exited my chest
in a slow stream of warm urgent breath
carrying bits of my heart and mind
into her delicate nervous system

she blinks
twitches her whiskers
pats my thumb with her paw
as if to say
oh sweet one
imagine having a nestful of blind babies
surrounded by silent owls
you never know
when disappointment may come
all you can do
is greet the sun
with whatever semblance of thanks you can muster
any day it deigns to shine

Uncategorized

Leap Day

Leap Day

the leftover fragments of other years
cobbled together
to make an impulsive day
beyond the capability
of my wristwatch to reconcile

what did we pour into
this freebie grabbag of hours?

a luminous sunrise
over islands over water
firing the wood paneling
of our little cabin

watching penguins from our breakfast
of warm rolls dotted with butter
melting to pools

looking for pudús (always)

watching metallic green hummingbirds
zip from fuchsia to pine bough

rambling down the beach path
to join the penguins on the water

taking in the black and white
volcanoes across the way
that mark the continent’s spine

entering the blue white yellow
Iglesia de Nuestra Señora de Chonchi
watching the stars wink
above a sea of incense and prayers

coming into Queilén, a warm haven
where the sea can sing to you
and the moon is tipped
in an unfamiliar way

every day is an uncertain gift
each date one that might never arrive
but some are imbued
with a bit more magic
sometimes we have the sense
to savor the day’s passing
before regret can even rise

poetry

Lake Tekapo Blues

Lake Tekapo blues

listening to the brisk burble of glacial gush
that menthol blue pops to mind
and cools my tongue just by thinking

what could a teaspoon of that turquoise tonic do?
what might you be capable of
if those minerals went coursing around your ductwork?
mightn’t you shine
like you were plumbed with cooling rods
like the bonds that held you together/back
might split at any breath?

now imagine immersing your whole heavy body
in that cocktail of salts
bits of earth’s heart holding you buoyant
flat out so all you can see
is that calmer blue sky
that you know somewhere fades to black
but not for you today

poetry

thank you for prayers answered

thank you for prayers answered

my life like every other
one string of miracles awaiting notice

my genesis two unlikely souls entangling

my first heartbeat echoing
her warm thrum of love
that has borne me through all my days

the luck of having a sister
of being not-alone growing up
growing older

the two loving grandfathers
who saw me whole
and hugged me at every chance

the teachers who cared for me
who made my wandering path seem
a matter of course

the creek and lake and ocean water
that dissolved any bits of world-weariness

my high school friends who claimed me gladly
innocently swinging under a circle of moon

my college friends
who I didn’t need to explain myself to
the kind of people I had hoped existed

especially that tall skinny boy with steady hands
calm competence
flashing mischievous eyes
and a romantic calculator
who pulled me close
and hung on through everything
through uneventful years
and life-altering moments

for the soft warm fur of a clever loyal dog
and the home I always dreamed of
lace curtains books on shelves and peace

and the children I couldn’t have dreamed up
so their own incomparable souls
and I so lucky to live beside them

for my friends today
these real raw devoted fierce compassionate endlessly-giving
beings I trust and turn to and emulate

for the luxury of time to be not do
the great joy of purpose and belonging to all that is
the unasked for beauty strewn about us all everyday

and, today, our son’s sweet journal
with its sincere silly sketches
and inscribed delible memories
returned to him by a kind stranger’s hand

for all these gifts seen and unseen
Lord, I am not worthy to receive them
but only say the word
and I shall be healed.