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Day of the Dead

for Nora and Jack, Louie and Belle
in the cells of my body are the gifts of my ancestors 
today I will remember that and honor the body that is my home  
I am a perfect and random blend of all who came before me  
a beautiful collage made from the pages of my own history

Chestnuts Redux

I visited the park again today, alas a lone chestnut seeker wading through the leftovers.  Seems the trees are almost bare now, save one tree, a late bloomer amongst the others.  So my fellow treasure hunters have moved on until next year.  

This solitary hunter sat at against the trunk amidst the broken pods, waiting for the final gifts of the season.  I thought of all the chestnuts I have gathered, sitting in my glass bowl on the buffet, and felt such gratitude for my days.  Thank you Mother Nature…thank you 

This Now

I hold the camera still 

and try to steal the beauty
of fall for just a moment
trap it in the cells of my camera
with technology I will never understand
But I can’t seem to hold it
perhaps there is no way to really hold
a feeling,
sometimes I feel desperate
in my need to remember
with clear and perfect
a moment
of time that is passing by too 
Memories are not made
or kept
photographs fade
and the recollection of place and time
and even people
become shadows
of what once was
If I still myself
and quiet my need,
I can will myself with breath 
to return to this now
and be 
where beauty 
that cannot be held


The Word of God means the power of the spirit to declare Itself into manifestation, into form.

Ernest Holmes

All that I would like to manifest…
Divine Love, Abundance, Peace, Laughter, Creativity, Health, Happiness, Connection, Community, Purpose, Friendship, Joy, Understanding, 
All that I am grateful for…
Spirit, my children, Luka,  my family, my friends, my community, my home, laughter, abundance,yoga, love,nature, time, beautiful spaces, my health, my gifts, the gifts of others…all that I experience, everyone I meet.


I was listening to OPB in my car yesterday.  I am a public radio addict.  Right now they’re fundraising, so there are always interruptions in the programming to ask for money.  I hadn’t given yet.  I used to give regularly, and then just got out of the habit.  Anyhow, during one of their breaks, Ira Glass came on (in case you didn’t know, I love Ira Glass…LOVE him!!) He had asked listeners, particularly children, to call in if they knew someone who was a regular listener but who didn’t ever donate.  A young woman called in to rat out her mom.  Ira then spoke with said mom, asked her why she didn’t give.  Of course the woman immediately offered to donate, said she had always meant to, but just hadn’t gotten around to it.  I felt both pity for this woman, and envy…she was TALKING to Ira!! As much as I want to speak with Ira, I would hate to have him call me because my son turned me in.  Not a very good first impression.  

I went on-line this morning and made my contribution.

James 3:3-12


You were right. I have been the spring where fresh and foul water pour. I see that now, thank you for pointing it out to me.
Much love my dear Brother,
Part I
I have been clothed
in a wardrobe of convenience,
relied upon the mirror
and my own reflection
to my ultimate demise
But as I have been
slowly stripped bare
exposed for all to see
I found no one was
looking anyway.
Part II
I look into the eyes
of others now
and see my Beloved
At last
and first
my voice will
echo what my heart
I am Loved
I am Blessed
I am filled with Gratitude


We are always in relationship

even apart
language changes,
feelings too
take on new 
ways of being
or unbeing
with an ache
and a breathlessness
always sudden
and I am
that even though 
we are not
we are
for I am
woven together
with moments
like thread 
too short for anything else
not good for much
but together
there is 
and even beauty
and in the
lending of comfort
I am worn thin
but ever mindful
of the 
part of me
that is
because of 


Last weekend I took a two day class in Shambhala Arts.  It was a sabiki luring me out of my self imposed seclusion.  I longed for discovery, just a single draw from some deep creative source buried within my cells.  Instead, I was bathed in a wellspring; scrubbed clean of the film that has coated my perception of the world. I came away beautifully heartbroken, raw with emotion.  Nothing is random or simple anymore, nothing taken for granted.   The gift of sight and sound, touch and even context, all new. Every moment is the first time.  Every moment.  No expectation or desire, no disappointment, no  place for judgement.  What is something if we do not call it by name? It is. Simply that. Beautiful.  


The chestnuts are dropping from the trees. I visit the park daily, often twice, to search for them. Not a day goes by that I do  not see the same three people doing as I am, making slow rounds, eyes moving carefully, slowly.  I have seen people hit the branches as if to hurry the Mother Nature. The truth is, you must wait.  The chestnut falls when ready and not a moment sooner.  So we walk, feet shuffling, searching among the fallen leaves and spiky pods for the warm brown jewel.  And then we’ll hear it…the deep thud as the chestnut hits the ground. Every time it is a golden surprise.  I fill the pockets of my apron as Luka runs and chases squirrels. I have lived for 42 years and yet it is as if I have just woken up and discovered a new season, a new ritual.  There is sacredness here and I am living it.



I raced desperately around the globe
snatching trinkets
like a pirate
to still them on my mantle
as lifeless idols
I walked with blindfold
on the arm of a man I just met
and discovered
I had longed for
was below my still feet