moving on

The slice of
sorrow arrived
today with
a flare
then calm
what was
already known
now recognized
formed the words
that escaped
behind hurt
and tears
to bleed upon
our palms
and cared for
the time arrived
yet still
a surprise
no foil wrappings
no pretty ribbons
a time for mercy
for forgiveness
kindness and
moving on.

saying goodbye

Answering the Call

– Also published on Pearls of Wisdom.

After watching a number of shows and interviews, reading again – The Hero with a Thousand Faces, and doing some big soul searching, here’s the lessons that came up for me today.

Dukkha – suffering, is one of the four noble truths. Elizabeth Gilbert quotes in her interview with Oprah,  “Never waste your suffering.”  You can turn your suffering into grace but you have to learn and allow it to transform you.  Grace is always present and there for you. The words you hear in your head that tell you that you are bad, ugly, damaged is ego.  “Who are you going to blame your life on today?”  Grace would never says those words to you.  You’re in charge of your beautiful soul. “Grace says to you, ‘You are splendid.’ ”

Magga – the path to the end of suffering is the fourth noble truth;  the hero’s journey. You’re invited. Everyone’s invited to answer the call in their lives. It is not easy; the Road of Trials. But.. You have to answer the call to be the hero of the story and fulfill the highest expression of yourself.  The climax of the hero’s journey, the battle, is losing your fear… your fear of death.  But the end of the journey is coming back and telling your story. It’s the public service you provide, share, and show others what you’ve learned so they too can be inspired to answer the call in their own lives. We need more women heroes to help other women answer the call.

Pay telephone booths near Scott Quadrangle c 1967


open window breaths
lace curtains gently
swinging the ledge
brushes potted iris
carefully placed
glass bowl fish
hand blown magic
bright colored smile
swimming the sill
the cinnamon scent
of breakfast warming
coffee and rolls
while for a moment
rising sun captures
gaps in distant
hemlock leaves
casts streaking gold
across your cheek.


Showers and shadows

here it is when
once late into
night alone showers
the dark room
wraps warm
blanket around
through glass
the mind recalls
night owl hooting
while puddles
again reflect light
shadows dance
amongst themselves
crickets sing
bringing thoughts
from eastern skies
our Walnut Mountain
your hand in mine
with Orion’s belt
stretched out
across the lawn.