There, there

Why are we so
afraid of what is underneath the anticipation
of a tear
or the welling up of feelings
long gone
There, there I say to all

Messy

It is just that, messy the blur
anticipation whirling with brightness
overpowering the shadows of memories forgotten in the magic
of the season until until until they never really are gone
they linger

Cleansing

The quiet pouring of water
over the cliff simply float-falling cascading freely
soaring my boy is drawn
like a magnet to the waters opening
his mouth hoping to taste the abundant freshness
unaware his boots are filling

A Promise

Instantly, I could see
the potential in this view, the expanse
in the sky and ocean horizon wide
with promise and depth the lone little tree
finding a way to stand tall
though I am sure it has seen

Inside Me

This morning as the rain begins
its relentless seasonal soaking of the ground
the warm bright light
is left to shine behind the thick lid of clouds

I notice myself shifting from looking
out the window
to looking inside myself
a shift as gentle as waking up

Quiet. Wisdom. Rising- Night-Time Knowing

As promised, here is my first excerpt from my newly published book, Quiet. Wisdom. Rising. I captured this photograph this past week. My family went backpacking in the Trinity Alps for a few days. We camped at Little Boulder Lake, the second night the reflection of the sunset was extra special.

Forget-me-not

Of course so many need
you need you to care
for their wounds need you to calm their wild-eyed views need you
to tenderly speak need you
to listen while they weep so many need you
to believe in their goodness their dreams they need
you to remind them to see

She May Fall

And she falls within her tears
cascading tender curiosity
and honesty driving her down into the abstract
where doubt and shadow may dwell but that is in the past
where she may find answers to today to the burden
welling up she may uncover

Beyond the Day

The day drifts
deeper into the almost night the last hints
of light stretching their stay the cusp of the final glimmer
before twilight where there is the simple
slowing of my thoughts

WPC: Solitude

Stillness openness wildness just me
standing in one place taking in
the wind my feet digging in to the wet sands
and grounding me again to being one