In Praise of Stiff Wind
walking around the reservoir
blasted by invigorating wind
all we can do is laugh
at the immense blessing
of being given to one another;
of knowing someone else
who sings this song
Tag: love
Mayan Flower Healing Ceremony
Mayan Flower Healing Ceremony
Humans being human
are usually like The Breakfast Club:
we see each other’s humanity.
At the flower ceremony
we take turns speaking:
how hard the last two years have been,
how lost we’ve felt from losing the people we love.
We grieve alone, jointly.
Maya puts us on a cloud
and invokes our ancestors,
and, surprisingly,
they show up for us.
All the people from my bedtime prayer
gather in a way they never did in life
and, smiling,
(while tears streak my surprised face)
they say, over and over,
you know how to do it
and it could be anything.
All evening I’m buoyed by new confidence,
done with second-guessing,
sure about what to do,
whatever comes up.
Oh my ancestors,
for all the years I’ve known
how to say your names,
I never thought you’d say mine again.
Tonight I’m going to look for you
on that cloud once more,
now I know how to do it.
Happy Birthday Darrah
Happy Birthday Darrah
Darrah burns
to do more be more make more heal more
she smashes expectations
splinters them to shards
she shapeshifts
recreates herself her place our world
eagle finds her
and she laughs with him
no matter how cruel the world
how harsh the day
she keeps offering
words earth seeds sweetgrass smoke
sometimes spirits stalk her
and she doesn’t say no
no she says yes and yes and yes
and we tremble at her pain
we humbly tremble at her power
today we honor all that unfolded
all the souls that gave her breath
all the days that amassed
to yield the gift of her birth
another town’s children comfort us
another town’s children comfort us
Inspired by notes sent by Bradford K-8 students in Littleton to Louisville Middle School.
I only read the first forty pages or so
enough to be reminded
of our immense capacity
for compassion
(ocean-sized –
no, sun-sized)
here it is:
in the hearts dotting i’s
and the T-rex making the bed joke
in all the rainbows and hearts
the I know how you feel notes
and the I can’t imagine’s.
the children of another town
have written to us
marshaling all their worldly experience
to say
we’re so sorry
and
it’ll be alright
mission 2020
mission 2020
I want to burn
some bittersweet love for being
into your heart and brain
until your passion
for this little life spark
won’t stay inside you either
and we all break down
these flimsy plastic facades
that keep warm bodies stiff
and nurture every last
needy other soul
(yes, even our own)
forbidden embrace
forbidden embrace
each time we approach
the time when approaching
in the flesh is allowed
the goalposts move
and I feel your utterly human
animal selves moving further from me
if this ever ends
we will be hungry for skin on skin
like newborn babies
rooting around to feel the ridges
in the palm of the person in the next pew
slapping the back of the annoying
salesman at the door
combing the postal clerk’s bangs with our fingers
while purchasing stamps
sitting close enough on the bleachers
to feel the stranger-neighbor’s quad clench
before he leaps to his feet to cheer the play
but mostly I will hold onto
my mother, mother-in-law, father-in-law
with careful desperate bear hugs
swaying with them like a child
needing to be soothed
(I am)
so relieved I can clutch them to me
at least once more before letting go
on not changing
on not changing
i
I love it all
even the way
I can’t say no
ii
buckets full
overflowing even
some spills over
does everyone good
iii
some days
there’s even more patience
than the day demands –
that’s when we laugh
