…soul is the delicate yet durable cloth woven …
I held your hand as you went on your way,
He hugged your spirit as you struggled to rise
You took so much with you…or so it seems
A strange fullness in halls of empty silence…..
We find you everywhere….and nowhere…both at the same time
You grow the garden and water the cheeks
A rock, a stone, a tribute – such a mystery….…
I kind of “space out” in crowds. I easily get lost and many times my friends have had to come and find me because I have either lost sight of them and/or wandered off in another direction. There is something distracting about a “crowd,” something to me that is somewhat depersonalizing and vague. …
One day I am going to make it to New York City for the Blessing of the Animals at St. John the Divine Cathedral on the first weekend in October. I can only imagine the atmosphere of the hours-long ceremony in honor of St.…
Where is the place we live…
this foreign land
that slept in slumbers of familiarity
for so many eons?
Yet we awaken
with a strange light
and our faces
fall short
of closeness
in the mirrors
of other’s times.
There is a smallness
in the heart
that turns back on itself
and searches for a source…
folds and folds
enfolds
a warm blanket now cold
with dew
of a dawn
odd
in sensation
yet
this is our home…
written 9/29/16 from a an improvisation of spoken poetry
…
In October 2009, I wrote a poem inspired from one of my experiences while running. I was thinking about all of our loved ones who have gone on before us and what it must BE like for them NOW… As I mused about this I became aware of the mighty presence of the oak trees that lined the streets I was running down, and then I noticed how the wind blew through the leaves and branches of the trees.…