It’s sunset. Hold my hand

Spring Equinox Sunset
From our deck. For the next six months we see sunsets on the water.

While doing my daily Calm, Tamara Levitt talked about how poetry is healthy to heal wounds, relieve stress.

If you’re curious grab your writing instrument of choice and write as fast as you can for half a page, let the words fall from your fingers, let them plop on the page. Throw up, throw a tantrum, Ramble and jumble your way to the middle of the page. It’s ok to write a full page, and if you can’t stop, continue until you do.

Now go through what you wrote and find bits and pieces that you like. Highlight or under line them. Could be a word, could be a phrase. Gather them up, arrange them on the page. The poem that follows was done just that way, and it may not resonate with you, it may bore you to tears, it might tell you why you’ve always hated poetry, but for me, it’s a note from myself, a hint or a clue on what to do, where to look.

Tonight I have a date with my wife, to sit on the deck and watch the sun set. It’s the first time since the Autumnal Equinox that the sun sets on the ocean, just past Pedro Point. She’s headed north, where she’ll reach the end of her travels on summer solstice. She’ll pause to enjoy the long artic days before racing back for the Autumnal Equinox when she’ll set behind Pedro point for the next six months. My wife and I will hold hands, watch the sun set and bask in the glow of our 34th wedding anniversary.

It’s sunset. Hold my hand

relief from trimmings of panic, 

shelves gone empty let the 

train stop at your door 

for a long cup of tea

get that fun back in your step

There there, there’s time

stage lit for progress

believe the words

tell our story, would you like to guess

sun sets on the ocean tonight

so we’re talking angels, 

yes, white winged,

Facet, filled to the brim

homeward bound, 

safe and sound 

in the wake

Reckoning

Reckoning.

a big one of those,

query unkept promises, 

tossed to winds, let them spread. 

Listen to the 

sound of smoke, 

whispers so soft you 

feel the right time of light.

Settle into flow

what tickles our floor, 

waterfall, stream, or a dam, 

closer to who knows, father of us. 

Now, a breath 

we stand before

patterns in the sand

for a view of what’s ahead.

Sequestered

by decree you and me 

in our home until every 

last cup is cleaned,  every last 

weed pulled, protected by mulch, 

observe it all from behind our fence. 

Months, sequestered, exercise, books, sleep

late, good talk, we won’t walk out the door, to surf, 

we will watch from a distance, keep hospitals 

from two solid seniors taking up space 

where there is none. We’re game

giving it our all, food for 

days to weeks

Making ripples in puddles

one armed catch
fearful of crashing
overthrown, I reach
kingdom of heaven on earth

a growing edge
freedom, wild spaces
barely touching the ground
words of wisdom make it whole

virus the forefront
my goodness what a mess
recognize error, repair with
strength of a thousand horses pounding

lay down a bed of rose petals
chances we took to belong and sustain
free me a space for a nice walk in the woods
Show me your hand, let me feel your worry lines

Turn to the Sea

Last year I took a class called Flash Memoir, from Osher Life Long Learning in San Francisco. We were taught, by author Diane Frank, how to shine a bright light on a precious moment from our life. I wrote several short passages and one of them was published this month in Worm Wood Press Media.

The piece I submitted was Turn to the Sea and it was paired with a lovely coastal image by an artist I have yet to meet, Wendy Setzer.

You can see read the poem and gaze at Wendy’s art right here.

 

 

Awakening the Feminine Paige Sawyer

Wip finished
Artist: Paige Sawyer 2020

It is my turn to give back
to those who have given
to those who still give
to those who do
their best and
make the world
a little better place

I embrace the feminine spirit
with an old friend, Paige
my son’s early mentor
a healer, an artist
guided by winds
and wild sage
paints from the
heart of an angel

 

 

 

 

Sedona Sun Sets over Jerome

Sedona sunset

crowds cheer another sun setting

somewhere past the town of Jerome

people over friendly, seeking

something lost

 

ghosts clammor

bardello lady saves change

who gets a piece of her pie

their slice of the dream

 

sleeping in beds by the shift

closer to the surgeon’s house

suffering smells sink

deep in their chests

 

wicked city sitting high on the hill

while another source of money

down in the valley

franchise of energy worshipers

 

into the mountains

narrow dusty roads

parallax of the mind’s own tricks

sharing a moment with the ancient ones

 

I’ll tell you the truth

it’s a powerful vision

up close they shape shift

out of time and trouble