The Dead Among Us

Nobody guards the living dead.

That wander around among us.

We can no longer smell their decay

Or witness their festering pus

The stories you’re told protect you

Against the sacred forever sleep.

Work harder than you need to

Pray your soul for them to keep

I hate mourning the living dead

That can’t remember the words

To the songs that living humans sing

To the tunes of the cawing birds

The crackling fear that reaps us clean

Of dastardly deeds and acts unseen

Retrieves us back from comfort one

At rising dawn or setting sun

I hate that the fear leaves things unsaid

That fear that the coffin will spring open

like a jack-in-the-box’s bouncing head

 scaring the life out of your heart

as it sucks you up in one whole part.


 Nobody guards the living dead.

Ancient Tomes

dustybooksThere is a mummified shroud

unraveling in our spirits
that are delivered with gusts

of gauzy breaths
revealing chapter, verse,

the context and content
of our lives lived
by the turning of our pages
to reveal
the chapters of our hearts
to one another
in labored, birthing, unity.

extend humanity outward
like a library of reciprocal knowledge
donate your gifts to fill your coffers
Teach from the trenches

Learn from the quarry
Bloom from the crap
Shine from the darkness

Believe from the silence

Joy from despair

Triumph from resistance

Freedom from oppression

Meaning from Understanding

Wino Confessions

After a bottle of wine I like to confess things to my husband.

I like to tell him of how I felt when I first laid eyes on his face;

how my heart raced, how my eyes teared up, how I forgot to breathe.

I like to tell him how I didn’t want to believe that he existed

because then it would mean I live surreal.

Even now, I feel shy putting this down from my fingertips.

The same fingertips that have traced every inch of his body.

The same fingertips that he’s kissed when I burn them on dinner.

The same fingertips that smooth out his blankets when I make the bed.

The same fingertips that boop his nose to see if it still works. (It does.)

I like to tell him how I’d follow or lead or walk beside him anywhere.

I like to tell him that he’s the funniest man I know,

that he leaves me breathless with laughter and breathless with love.

I like to tell him with great earnestness that he brought me to life

even though I thought I already was, but not in this way. Not in this time.

I would still be me without him, but not the same me I am now.

I’m a better human with him nearby. I’m able to freely explore the world.

After a bottle of wine, I like to confess to my husband; my always, truly.

Lost Sunday

Go away.
He sat in the back seat using his hands as a rosary
praying to holy mother Rosemary his sin not be discovered.
The violation of my air space undetected by his stealth
suddenly had air raid sirens blaring loudly,

“HOW DARE YOU?!” upon my radar screen
while I drove away and prayed the guards were adept.

The old sweater

A sweater should be warm and generous to snuggle safely into when it's chilly.

A sweater should be warm and generous to snuggle safely into when it’s chilly.


I loved that sweater.

I adored the warmth and the way it smelled like motherhood.

I loved the softness that it offered, the tenderness of triumphant love

I embraced the patterns, the textures, the shifting colors, the lengthening tide

It was my favorite that I brought out whenever I needed to put on my very best outfit

But I snagged it on a dream that stuck out         from the wall just a little too far, too far.

It kept getting caught every time I’d pass         through that doorway into the other room.

I kept meaning to fix that spot on the wall         but there never seemed to be enough time.

The picture of us at Christmas,

(I was wearing that sweater) hangs askew

with chipped glass over my face

That should be non-glaring, but the faces,

the fake happy faces, glare

back at me ungenerously.

I couldn’t see it then.

The sweater was covering my eyes with promises

of generational family traditions.

I wore the sweater f





and wondered why

it kept getting smaller.

Why didn’t it fit any more?

As I look back,

I see the many tangles,



and trail offs

of disconnect-





I mourn for my favorite sweater.

I loved that sweater.

Everything Will Be Okay

“You are more than a human being, you are a human becoming.” – Ann Harris

I’m not quite certain what’s occurring in my life right now, but there is a major shift happening that I can feel. It’s seeping out of me like a sweaty wall of moisture. My eyes keep staining my cheeks with tears only I don’t feel sad. I don’t feel happy. I don’t feel angry. But yet I’m filled with the emotions that I’m walking through allowing them to be what they are. The shift is occurring. I’m just not sure yet of which direction the Universe is rearranging my path to walk, but I know I have to keep going.

August 17th, 2014 (Church service notes)

I’ve been a bit sad lately because a lot of things have been falling away from me. However, when I arrived this morning and was greeted by the attendees, I felt such a wave of love and peace fill me that I started to leak. I wasn’t happy. I wasn’t sad. I was neutral in emotion, but my spirit kept leaking. A tender heart brought tissues to me so I wouldn’t have to use my skirt (we really should put tissues near the hymnals for leaky days), hugs from all my beautiful friends filled me further.

As the service progressed we were asked to close our eyes and lend a bit of spirit to someone making a difficult decision. We were asked to reach our spirits and shine a bit of light into a dark time. I closed my eyes, pushing out my spirit that I visualize like a white fluffy under-a-Christmas-tree skirt. Without warning, I could see.

Flowing out from me like an iridescent white misty cloud, I could see my spirit doing just what was asked of it to do. As each person lent their bit, I could see the colors dancing up like popcorn. Some with sky high flooding spikes of lovely exuberance, others with earthy warmth and compassion appeared in a menagerie that overflowed my spirit again. Not happy, not sad, neutral in emotion but satisfying.

Then the unfortunate story of a horrific attack and the response with love and compassion felt so real, my tears were like blood that wept for the suffering, but healed into tears of courage. It was, again, something I felt, acknowledged, and observed. It felt like picking up an item from a shelf, examining it carefully, feeling the weight of it in my hands and heart before replacing it where it belonged.

After the service, I was approached with the kindest words I needed to hear today. A beautiful, heartfelt thank you from a human woman that made me leak again. I felt, in response to her thoughtfulness, that my grateful heart understood why I am here on this earth. The love and acceptance from her at that moment reminded me that I will be okay. Just like another warm soul who sought me out to tell me that same thing. She said, “You will get through this and you will be okay.” Completely unsolicited and yet, so absolutely necessary for me to hear. I felt comfort. I felt at home. I felt like I belonged which, for someone like me, a rather rare occurrence is.

During the course of the conversation with yet another friend, I realized that life goes on and things happen. Some things we can control, others we can watch, and others are so far out there they seem like the Twilight Zone, but despite the situation, with a bit of hope and a lot of determination, we will get through it. We will be okay.

I’m at the halfway point in between services and I’m still feeling rather neutral in emotion. Sad a bit. Happy a bit. Not numb because I can still enjoy what is happening around me, not detached because I’m still engaged in my conversations, just…neutral.

As I started this article which, truthfully is part rehashed, I know that the same shift that directed me to attend this church in the first place is shifting me again. I’m being guided with a firm “hand.” I don’t feel fear or confusion, just uncertainty. I’ll heed the warnings and the omens I’m shown because my intuition has never once misguided me. I don’t need to understand the whole picture when my eyes are clouded with the mundane. I just need to put one foot in front of the other and believe that when I reach the next rest area (man do I need to go!) it will be as I’ve been told, okay.

Trusting yourself is not always easy, but it’s the best way I’ve learned to continue the path to being a human becoming. What a glorious phrase that is. Let’s just breathe and trust that we’re following the right path. If we feel afraid, that’s okay. If we feel sad, that’s okay too. Just do something. Breathe. Live. Act.

Open to me


Open up your sea to me so that I can sink my toes into your shores

Let me be wrapped up in your undertow,

Drowning while begging for more.

Open up your sky to me so that I can dream your galaxies with you

Let me become the very air we are

So that I may breathe you too

Open up your infinity to me so that I can swim in the pool of us

Let me drape on lounging couches stories

Of pearled adventures of our trust

Open up your earth to me so that I might return to dust again

Let me crumble from the quakes you give

That I’ll return world without end.

Get the BLA’s

I went to the mall the other day. In one of the junctions there is a Starbucks kiosk with umbrella-ed tables (indoors which I thought odd) on the backside four seats per table. As I passed by, I saw an older woman sitting with her husband. She was wearing white pants that had china blue floral print on them, a blue button up shirt, navy sandals, and white pearl jewelry. He was wearing a blue plaid shirt and khaki pants with sensible brown shoes.

“Your pants are fabulous!” I commented to her.

“What?” She asked while leaning forward to engage in conversation with me and my friend.

“Your pants. They look like they belong on a tea pot. I really like them.”

“Oh yes. I think I got them,” She looked at her husband searching for the answer. “at Kohl’s. I think I gave $13 dollars for them.”

“No kidding? I just really liked them. Your outfit is very well done. I admire good style when I see it.” I smiled at her. “And your outfit fits nicely with hers too.” I comment, including her husband in the mix.

“After 55 years of marriage, it’s kind of a given.” Despite our gasps of appreciation and admiration, he continued. “She has better taste than I do. What she buys, I wear.”

“Oh stop! He hates shopping. That’s the only reason I buy the clothes.” She chuckled and ribbed him with her elbow to the amusement of my friend and I.

My friend struck up a conversation about long term relationships with the woman while I stood rather awkwardly. I stepped over to be a bit closer to the husband.

“Fifty-five years? That’s pretty impressive.” I said.

“You know what I learned?” He waited. I realized he expected a response.

“What did you learn?”

“I worked my whole life. I spent weeks away from home making a living for my wife and family. I completely forgot to live my life. And now I’m old and I don’t know who she is other than I married her.”

I panicked. Had his wife heard that? (No, she had not.) Had anyone else heard that? (Apparently, just me.) I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what to say so I nodded my head as if I understood. It was a bubble that only he and I belonged in at that moment.

“If I had to do it all over again, I’d have vacationed more and learned more about her. Now I just follow her around because she knows how to live better than I do. I’ll probably die before her and I know she’ll just keep on living.” He said with a sense of regret and remorse in his voice.

At the table next to theirs, a younger man, college-aged maybe, paid attention just long enough for the bubble to burst and then we were being drawn back into the wife’s conversation with my friend. With a pat of hands and a parting smiling wave, we left the couple sitting in the mall and carried about our shopping.

There are conversations we have with a variety of people in a variety of situations on a myriad of topics, but every once in a while there is a message given by something…bigger than us. It’s so powerful that it can take weeks to chew about and identify the flavors. They are never without the spice of truth seasoning the breath of omen.

Breathe. I hear it. Breathe. Live. Breathe. Act. Breathe.

I work in a factory right now. It’s a means to an end. I like the people I work with, the work is not difficult, the hours are long, but I know this isn’t my way of life. This is how I can support my family while working towards living my life. But I see the people I work with accepting this as if it were their only fate. Others are exactly where they belong and want to be without questioning whether there is more to life or not. It baffles me why they never ask the questions I do. Is there more? Is there a meaning to what we’re doing?

Live your life right now. Could you heed his warning? Right now, could you just begin living or would you have to figure out how to do that like he seemed baffled about learning how to do? Could you take a deep breath and jump into the pool of understanding that your destiny may not be where you currently find yourself? I have and I could, but I wonder just how many others couldn’t do that because they have no idea how deep the water actually is in the Life End of the gene pool.

Breathe. I hear it. The steady inhale/exhale that is necessary that so many take for granted until they can’t any more. There are more ways than one to quit breathing life.

I’ve seen people who have negative thing after negative thing happen to them in constant battering waves of despair against their psyche. They do not seem to realize that it is life attempting to guide them towards another direction. They just keep plodding along, heading the wrong way and wondering why everything seems so dark. If you find yourself walking on this path or feel like you are, what is it you’re missing? Are you following your destiny or plodding along? Are you working for a living or are you living? Breathe. Listen. Act.

Who you are and what you’re supposed to be doing has been whispered into your soul all your life. Heed the wisdom of your own knowledge. Embrace the path that’s destined to be yours. Believe that with the changes you’re making, things will get better. If you feel yourself wanting to make a right turn because that’s how you’d normally go, turn left. If you find yourself wondering if you should still be in this relationship, you probably shouldn’t be. Whatever questions you’re posing, if you’re unhappy, truly unhappy, with whatever is going on in your life, change. Take YOUR life by the reigns and guide it instead of reacting to circumstances that you probably created for yourself. Act.

You don’t need the drama to remember that life is now. You need to be able to actually live it. Get rid of the negative that surrounds your thoughts, your relationships. And you say, “I can’t do that because…” then you’ve already lost. Don’t be afraid. You already know what you’re supposed to do. One step to the right and you’re moving a different direction.

I’ve heard it said that life begins just outside of your comfort zone and have tried it enough times to realize that it is indeed. Live. Step a bit to the right of where your path would normally go and discover something new that you’d not noticed. Take a different route home from work. Try a new restaurant that you’ve been meaning to. Today is some day. Some day is today. Right now is your chance to live.

I’ve seen people with brilliant minds come into a place where they seem to accept that this is life. It’s not that they don’t know there is more out there, they just give up fighting for it. They resign themselves to the mundane.

There is something to be said about stability. I know, for example, that I can depend on myself for at least a chuckle during the day no matter how badly the day goes. I know that when I see my husband, I feel better and have come to depend on his just being around me. But when those things become taken for granted. When these events are just how things are without change or fluctuation other than minor differences, I feel like I’m missing out on something big, don’t you?

One step to the right and the perspective changes. Bringing flowers home instead of the empty lunch bucket makes a difference. Sending a random message to a loved one to remind them that you’re thinking of them makes a difference. Writing an article to remind others to act is making a difference. Whatever you do, do something. Don’t just talk about it, do.

Breathe. Live. Act. It’s just one step to the right to change the direction.