playdate haiku
red lint in my hair
googleplex hours of talking
a bruise on my lip
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9/11 (Choose Love)
art | divine | grace | healing | photography | poetry | quotes | the delicious now
blessings of existence
The Guest House This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival. A joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor. Welcome and entertain them all! Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows, who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture, still, treat each guest honorably….
today
today 5:45 awakening to the promise of a new day coffee meditation shower, etc. (black boots, black tunic, grey skirt, pink scarf) (hair up with teardrop silver earrings) kids to school to the cafe to work (triple tall americano with cream.) red leaves swirling in the icy gale chatting up the man next to me…
like a swarm of bats
first they were far away from a country girl riding bareback into the storm then they were buried beneath cubicles and his need for sports and security later they came wailing with the babies and their scattered, pressing needs now, my dreams come like a swarm of bats flying out of my heart to be…