No Spoilers


close the book
    the story’s not over
    I have pages left 
    to read

you know the ending
    I don’t! Not for sure
    anything can happen

the action is done
    but the story goes on
    there’s more to tell
    at the end

you know who did it
    that wasn’t the point
    the hero needs to 
    understand why

close the book
    I’m not done 
    I have pages left
    to live

Happier Thanksgiving


too many cooks
crowd the kitchen
guaranteeing laughter
and a few stepped-on toes
so pour the wine
and watch those knives
nobody goes home hungry

Happy Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving Day has arrived, and I’ve yet to write a word about gratitude or thanks or giving. Even now, sitting here in the dark, waiting for the my world to wake, I feel nothing for the day. When did I become this thankless? I want to say it’s a recent development, and a temporary one, but my mind is playing tricks on me, so I can’t. Depression mind is usually the culprit when the only memories I can summon are dark, but I don’t feel depressed. Yet as I write, my mind yells, “Are you sure about that?” No. More tricks.

The truth is that this month has been a difficult one, and I haven’t done the work, the cutting and polishing, that transforms rough to beautiful. I’m missing absent family. I’m waiting for news of a death that could happen any time now or drag on for weeks. I’m unhappy with the little progress I’ve made physically (I’m still a meatball). I’m struggling to write even simple rhymes. I’m doubting my future and feeling very much alone in a life I don’t understand.

I want to clear my mind, balance it somehow, force myself to notice that there’s still good in the world. In my world. I bought a pocket calendar last weekend, a small weekly planner with several lines per day, that I’m planning to use as a gratitude journal of sorts. I’ll jot down five things a day (or three, or one) as they occur to me. Small things, big things, whatever. Anything will do as long I notice it and feel even the smallest bit of gratitude for it.

In the meantime, I need to practice noticing, waking up enough in the midst of the chaos to see those moments happening, feel the tiny pulse of thanks. Maybe I’ll be giving thanks for my aunt’s peaceful passing, or my granddaughter’s love of her new home. Maybe I can give thanks my mind is clear enough to write even bad verses, because it means I still remember how to write. Or maybe I’ll give thanks that, despite the sadness and depression and loneliness, I still want to feel grateful. I still want to feel.

Happy Thanksgiving.

This Doesn’t Feel Done, But I Have to Get to the Grocery Store


in the knowing of the unknown
the formless waits
space between spaces
the impulse the longing
before want and need
the awareness of all that is

in the knowing of the unknown
roots draw life from dirt
and clouds call themselves into being
from the sky’s un-cried tears
the world inhales and holds the stillness
then sends cleansing winds with one breath

in the knowing of the unknown
the baby smiles at nothing you can see
wrapping you in joy pulled from places
long forgotten at your age

in the knowing of the unknown
secrets hide promises
connections in stardust
in the knowing of the unknown
the answer to all your questions is yes

I Wouldn’t Want to Live There


Welcome to my world.
Hazy skies obscure the view.
There’s more than meets the eye,
There’s more to know,
There’s more to do.
Take my hand and walk awhile
Through the tangled weeds.
Feel the ground beneath you shift.
Confess your darkest needs.

Welcome to my world.
Enjoy the bare terrain.
Sing a verse or two with me,
Or join in the refrain.
Explore the territory spread
Like puzzles at your feet.
My mind’s a maze where
Thoughts of you will twist
But never meet.

I’ll gladly share my vista.
You are welcome to recline.
Join me here at poolside,
Swim like dolphins in my mind.
The water’s deep and chilly.
The air’s too thick to breathe.
I’ll wrap you in warm towels
When you feel it’s time to leave.

Welcome to my world.
Drop by anytime to play.
I get lonely here without you.
Come again when you can stay.

Am I?


am i known
because you see me
am i loved
because you care
am i cherished
ever deeply
am i valued
since i’m rare
is our love
enough to conquer
worldly fears
that fill my head
am i safe
with or without you
am i living
wings outspread

am i more
than i imagine
am i fine
just being me
am i loved
because i care
am i known
because i see
is our love
a mere illusion
and not really
ours to own
am i spirit
on a journey
am i finding
my way home

am i life
to aid the dying
am i love
to ease the pain
am i all
and yet still nothing
am i known
by many names
am i striving
without purpose
fearing death
among the damned
am i all
i’ve ever wanted
am i love
because i am