Little bird

Little bird, singing praises

Outside my windowsill

Rising warm sun on the horizon

Reminding me, God loves me still

When I feel lonely or discouraged Feel abandoned or unsure

I turn my vision to the only

Source of comfort; Love that’s pure

The Hourglass

My dead are buried here

Cycling the winds of change

Filling my hourglass with the sands

of moments spent with true hearts

moments charged with life’s passing

Experience dictating lessons

of community

of unity

of vision

A tribal pulse weaving roots

deep into the soil of my hearth

fashioning the cloak of enduring life

a version of immortality

told in legends measured by grains

creating a life worth living

The Stillness is

The stillness is 

where you were 

Intimately held;  

death and life blurred 

The wealth of years 

Fell silently 

The labor gone 

So quietly 

The stillness is 

Where you were 

The peaceful night 

Embraces you 

Mourning’s tears 

A grassy dew 

And yet, 

The stillness remains 

Where you were 

Glimpses of mortality 

An unacceptable reality 

Because the stillness is 

Where you were 

In the Deep

I’m fragmented by your absence.

Infinitely reformed.

I’m suffering love

the color of tears.

It is salty and dark

It is laborious to breathe.

I’m not afraid

of loving you

as I held you.

I’m conscious of the vulnerability

in which I’m submersed

from our severed physical connection.

My grief is a mere reflection

of our laughter, our conversations

distilled into our unwitting last

“I love you.”

I bring the best parts of us forward with me.

I will not betray our trust.

Your love is a part of who I am now.

No matter how deep the anguish,

There is no regret in cherishing

the you I knew.

Invisibility (Linda Looney)

I am an invisible person.

I’m sure you’ll disagree

But you’ve been well versed in

How to visualize me.

Maybe scorch-eye my belly

Disapprove my thickened thighs

Look down your nose at me ready

to allow me to be humanized

then possibly you’ll witness me

Become familiar and un-stigmatized

Spiritual Bath

Perfumed purification

anointed my skin

fragrant with absolution

My brethren

Blessed sisters;

Heart-bound lovers

Spirit-kin

My blood baptized

in the cistern of love

Forgiven to be human

The elation of redemption

damp against my brow

Dancing in broad circles

Breathless with abandon

the release of blissful beauty

For Granted

Cereal

The process of living:

retrieving the cereal from the pantry

The simple pouring of the cereal

into a bowl from the cupboard

with milk from the fridge

with a spoon from the drawer

pulling out my chair with the extra cushion

lifting my spoon from the bowl with a bite of crunch

Automatic conveyance without mindful grip

relaxing into the sensations of living, breathe in

hold and exhale gently while ingesting energy

Setting the spoon to ceramic bowl clanking glassily

DISTRACTION

lifting my spoon from the bowl with a bite of crunch

That little girl

That little girl under the table

that little girl under the table

scratching at knees as a mosquito might

pestering annoyingly enough;

but she’s not.

that little girl under the table

she’s not grown out of it

because she never left (even though she did)

Once in anger, once bereft,

grafting failure to achieve

something withered from the roots

Blood, not her blood, embraced her

brought her Polaroids of family blessed

as blissed as deeply remembered it to be

created in Tunes of resonant harmonies

The only home she wasn’t

that little girl under the table

who begged for scraps of affection

but the dogs eat faster, less furiously,

less needy than

that little girl under the table.

The Blessing of Venus

I’ve absolved myself of sin

of treating my body as a man’s

loving whomever I desired

again and again and again.

There is no shame between these thighs.

Sighs the ecstasy of night

Breaks the silence with Goddess song

Venus’ blessing; my kiss prolonged

Beckoning divine delights