I have followed the bridge to this lovely pond.

There is no one around
only the sound of an acorn woodpecker pecking into the red flakes of a giant.

Floating over the water is a small wooden boat
tied with cordage
to a brown post at the end of the dock.

It is on this dock that I plan to sit and rest.

There is nothing wrong with being sweet
When all the grass around dries up and the harvest is sour
it is the sweetness that restores
what was perceived long ago as lost

Let people be and smile on through the day
feed the core, feed the core, feed the core

let people be and enjoy the breeze
nourish your being , nourish your being, nourish your being

Let others be
and just be

Baby blue bird when you feel the winds has  been knocked out of you
keep on chirping
There is still a lot of life to be lived
don’t you worry
When you are ready you can give flying another shot

Every time the wind moves a cloud
may the sunshine peak
if only for a little while
to warm his skin
and clear away any thoughts
that may linger to fester the peace inside

Periodically I crumble
rumble the earth like the faults lines where tectonic plates meet

It comes in waves
the sorrow, but I have sailed those waters
many times before

It comes and I steer
despite the hard winds calling me by name
like they do with many others
out on the high seas

It comes,
this storm in my direction
and I am far from home
but I chose the boat and I took the risk
and still, I would not change a thing

I took a leap of courage and I took a leap of faith
and left fear and left pride  
for my dream was worth the risk of shipwreck
and these tides of sorrow that come and go

carrying is the wind
floating is the scent of calm
arriving is the doodle that with playfulness freshes

falling is the temperature
soothing is the array of clouds
restoring is the laugh that puts an end to silence

When the sun rises and a thought of you appears I neither angry nor do I plunge into sadness there is only longing knocking on my door.

i close my eyes and open my palms
to catch a dream i cannot yet see

Don’t you know I love you
When I am lying down
I peel my heart with my hands like an orange

At the center is all the sweetness
all the love grown through a life time

You added to the freshness and the fruitfulness of my center

When I press it, in search of answers; it just oozes despite it all

Look at how beautiful you are when the thought of love opens up your arms to your own reflection
Look at that gleam in your eyes when you realize you deserve all there is
to a fruitful life
Look and be astounded
by the way your joy and your truth
are untouchable by shame, and embraceable by all who know this life is neither black or white
Look at you already so full of light
powerfully & unapologetically shinning into existence

I see the two choices in front of me

I can choose to become wounded= let this moment break my heart unrepairably, so that when someone speaks of love I laugh in their face boldly and with disdain because I lack trust and have taken the long road leading as far away as possible from my vulnerability

or

I can choose to become wiser = let this moment pass and just hold onto myself as the strong winds try to knock me over because I want to believe in a good love; I do not mean a perfect love  just the kind that makes your stronger because it frees you and walks you to the door of your own beauty



I think I should become wiser.

And the day comes and the sun sets
and still I harbor so much love for you
that it takes me by surprise
and I dissolve like dust in the memory of you

placed inside the mortar are my grandmother’s carnations
and petals from the roses in my mother’s garden
to them I add California poppy oil and I spread them over me as a remedy

Today I must go in deeper for shelter
I have no option but to furrow and dive
into my own skin
Today I must go within

my round full cheeks have given way
to hollows that reveal my grandmother’s cheekbones

my hair curls and no longer waves
to hint at my fathers curls

And in my coastal home town  the sun has consistently appeared through every season bringing back a slight clustering of freckles over the bridge of my nose with an array of recent sun spots over my upper lip and at my temples

My left wisdom tooth against all odds decided to exit in my thirties and push my teeth forward; I have a different smile now

while a new circular mole has appeared under my right eye. naturally I begin to look like someone different. Don’t know if  my body is a new temple breaking from the past or if it’s honoring it by stitching me closer to those that came before

I care...
slowly from below the grass I care that trees grow
that everything flourishes
that you are surrounded by love
that this lifetime be kind
that our dreams
that art
feeds reality

I fold over the cool sheets/ let my skin warm/
I have a headache/I want to rest now/ I read too much/ I forget to wear my glasses/  I am too curious for excuses so I made due by pressing the book closer to my face/ now I need to recuperate/ play music/ drink tea/ memorize silly puns/ lighten the load/ cleanse the soul/ stimulate gratitude/ light a candle/ call beauty by its name/ come into presence/ listen

Your like a long blade of green grass swaying in my mind.

You come in dreams, and linger in calming fragments of conversation that make my heart sing.

I am dipped in spirit
and bathed by it
soaked I return

The people go out and line up
Lining up is an everyday thing, right ?
25 or less people at a time
these crowds aren’t so popular

How could your eyes come with a stranger
your hair pass with a friend and
your lips leave with another

How is it that your mannerisms wave
across the courtyard from one
person to the next
until
they gather like an accordion's
bellows into sound

What are you under the sunlight
when the day reveals you to the world

how do you smile in the early hours of the morning as you let the the whispers of grace guide you and the thoughts of gratitude fill you

who are you when you do not pretend
when you are at peace with who you are

my head is pressed against the white cover spread over the front lawn

I laid my body right under the sun wanting to feel it set.
...
Drifting

        Nnnn.  Drifting
                              ...
It feels a little cooler each time the sun sinks  lower
and the wind howls just a little louder each time I open my eyes to see dimmer patches of sunlight

And then there was wind and then there was fire and then there was me not giving a flying ****... and oh how sweet that was!

It is the way in which the sun rises
that emboldens life
that all things shimmers and grow
on one side of the world
and then onto the other side of the world

It’s not that I do not understand the ways in which leaves fall silently to the ground it
is just the thought of you falling that I cannot bear, so instead of being prideful, cruel, unforgiving, I swallow the knot in throat and put aside the “she doesn’t know what is good for her” “ what a pitiful thing” and turn around extent my hand and try to catch a beautiful leaf
I cannot let you hit the floor
it is not in my nature to be like so
even as you watching me stumble through youth and lack of judgement

It is not in my nature to be cunning, it is not in my nature to be insincere And if lose
I rather lose knowing I lost with grace
gently loving, catching leaves
uninterested in the opinions of others

May you be engulfed by laughter
chuckle hard and feel at ease
At one with the flow of
life around you
May whatever negativity comes
your way fall of your shoulders
and dissipate like a cloud of dust

Who I am supposed to be is a wildly distorted jumpsuit of thoughts that never quite fit who I am
–and who I am is constantly being re-discovered

I want a garden and an upright
a little head running through the grass
I want a desk facing the window
and a glass mug for my tea
and bookshelves full of books and vinyls

I want the sunset as much I want the sunrise
I want the deep fine lines that come with time. I want it, I wish it
Ms. Adrienne Rich I know it will take all my breath, but I hope it will become my will.
Like you wrote “it will not be simple”
So at the entrance of my home
I will hang a copy of your poem above the door. And when I turn back to look at that door frame I will think of this road, of this journey to that humble abode

A laid back lady with flower vases, poetry books, long scarfs draped over cushions and a decent stereo system to crank up when the going gets tough or the going gets real good.

I do not want fear or sorrow to be the companion of your heart during these long hours  
dear, if you could see yourself through these two brown eyes of mine
you'd be taken aback at how beautiful are
and you would understand
You are worthy and always surrounded by love
I want you to know this warmth
to feel never alone because this love is traveling, this calm is being cultivated and sent in your direction

Be gentle with all the things you love.
Each one is precious and delicate and can’t be handled harshly.

Be merciful to all the things you love. Each one travels their own dark skies and holds in them fear. Feed in them love

a whisper of love
so quiet
so far
echos
through the entirety of me
(through eternity)

No nos desampares en el corazón de nuestras oraciones extiende tu mano y toma nuestra voluntad y devoción al amor por nuestros prójimos cesa la sed y el miedo y como la flecha a la marca impulsa los hacia adelante y aquí en nuestro hogar reine el amor pues tanto mal no puede ser todo lo que hay. Madre nuestra, querida luz de la luces, abrazo a nuestra ciudad con tu manos y ternura.

Weave again,
I am worth the re-weaving of a life
as many beginnings as I need I will hand myself

Weaver of my own fate; friend to my own mind; I encourage dreams
and I feed in me light

I reached a point where I felt “I can’t”
but you know
I found that “I can’t” isn’t a wall.
There is a space after “I can’t”.

I don’t know how to describe it
but all of a sudden I just couldn’t cry anymore
and I wasn’t overwhelmed with anger anymore.
I just felt like I was done.
I was done mopping, burning up, and feeling bad.
So,I just started doing.

They said it is precious
and that one should take care of it.

So, when like a bird it fluttered over my open palms–I tried my best to hold it
to see its wings unfurl and it’s feathers widen.

I observed even the shadow it cast. It gave shade; it gave warmth.

There is so much beauty around
that I crack open all the time
let its’ light loveliness fill me
For if not in this lifetime when
when will the flowers sing to me ?

When I miss you
I close my eyes
and there you are

The quiet helps

It rearranges the pieces and it maps out the

rest

It inundates the outside voices and timelines for what human living ought be like and it frees me

and in my palms it lays an offering

and calmly whispers “here”

sometimes if you are really still
–and your limbs are branches–
–and your breath is the wind–
you can feel the earth turn.

Will I become a windchime lady?
I twirl and giggle out of delight
as I put all my belonging away
I sway, wiggle, slide back and forth from the suitcases
to the rhythm of reggae
I don't matter if it's a cloudy day
all that cool wind could surely be harnessed by the windcatcher
and the striker and the rods.

The part of me that loves,
still loves maybe eternally
I do not argue with it

I argue with the part of me that wants to hold–the one that isn’t love
the one that perhaps wants possession, fears change, or both

I kindly tell it “ they are well taken care of, we can go live your lifetime somewhere else” but still it furrows its brow

And I understand this part of me is hurt and I look at it with eyes of love because that’s the only way it will heal
and I kiss this weepy girl :)

What is in need of nourishment?
What needs more cultivation ?
What needs more of my time ?
What opportunities are presented ?
What calls me ?
What makes my eyes light up ?
When does time become still ?

I am loved. the sun that rose over the brushes
up until it climbed the trunk of a magnolia tree
giggling swung past the thick petals of its flowers
and set off into the open sky.

I like the quiet way that life yields itself to its own tongue or torso tripping on its own soles when it hits a sidewalk
how clumsy can be poetic and you can laugh even after you fall as long as you are in good company

I understand now why your only album was named “Grace”.