The wind blows across the bay
You say it's time to let it go
I turn to face the force
You're right , inside I know

I bend to the sand
let the grains run through my life
I stand straight , face my fate
Embrace the strife

Like a book overdue
A page ripped out
A heart mutilated
A charge turned to rout

The wind has increased
The clouds roll in
And I know what happens
to houses
Built on sand

When I start to regret the past
I have to ask
what does that piece of me mean
is it something best forgot
or a lesson
that turns my dark to green
It might make my dust into stars.

I should not waste my scars.

How sweet is our time together
falling softly into violin strings
up into sky on mockingbird wings
across piano keys of white and black
where there is nothing I lack
and every moment stretches
across horizons blue and gold
no matter how battered and old
my body of bones and flesh
every minute green and full and fresh.

This is not just an ordinary day
like yesterday or the day before
this day I’ll open a door
to a garden alive in dark clay
hummingbirds searching for paradise
in a heat wave scorching and dry
honeybees saying goodbye
mothers in a war made of sacrifice

No ordinary day this one
I’ll find a way out of sadness
through an hour of madness
out of moments undone
taking thirty minutes for my lover
where we touch our toes
take a risk to expose
mistakes we were loathe to uncover.

We will create this present day
halfway out of old into something new and bold.

As a child I looked forward to my coming birthday
and the gifts I would receive
the attention and the new little boat
I had wanted
so I could float in joy
with them.

This morning I read poems of angels
of arm and heart scars
I thought of blood and its flow
not in a ****** mystery
but in the flow
of life and time
and how precious to me are both of these.