winter arrived with a song
(and a roar!)
the turning wheel brought new light
(and lusciousness)
hearts drawn on steamed windows
(with music and delight)
like a dervish, i whirl!
like a primrose, I open!
the honeysuckle is a tangle of naked branches
(summer, a distant memory)
“If poetry does not come as naturally as leaves to a tree, then it better not come at all.” ~John Keats Poetry, life and love can be so easy when we allow them to be. Let’s allow it. Let’s lie in a field of buttercups watching the clouds and wiggling our toes and let the…
In improv class, we don’t get to use the words “don’t” or “no” and rarely get to ask questions when we are playing games. This is because it stops the story from moving forward. This has, of course, got me thinking about how I stop my own story. I see how many times I’ve let…
Oppression leads to powerlessness. Powerlessness leads to acts of terror and more oppression. This is true regardless of scale. Wounded souls create more wounding. We all need love + compassion. Sending out love and light to all hearts on this day marked with tragedy but also strung together with copious amounts of grace like the…
Qasida of the Woman Prone by Federico Garcia Lorca To see you naked is to remember the Earth, the smooth Earth, clean of horses, the Earth without reeds, pure form, closed to the future, confine of silver. To see you naked is to understand the desire of rain that looks for the delicate waist, or…
Life is complicated, isn’t it? Recently, I was working at the front desk at work, a co-working space in Seattle. An elderly lady was sitting in stillness for almost two hours in the sunlight, her veined hands endlessly turning a brochure over and over. A half hour before closing, I decided to check on her….