Bird Watching

The tree in my front yard houses a Mockingbird*

Buried deep in the brush, the nest is guarded by

A steadfast male in a nearby tree branch,

kamikaze dropping on robins**

That are all puddled together sucking worms from the earth

Disrupted only when they get too close to the border

(*State Bird for Arkansas, Florida, Tennessee, and Texas)

(**State Bird for Connecticut, Michigan, and Wisconsin)

Lifted Hope

I feel my sisters in the water

Feel my brothers in my blood

Generations of Daughters

Ages of the Son

Raise your spirits up in unity         

Our heart’s aligned as one

In purpose of prosperity

Amen. Thy will be done

Second Lie

Whispering beneath hope

Remembering the deep scope

of infinite possibilities

impossible responsibilities

Cherished magic alight

Warmest days and hotter nights.

Kitchen Dancing

The dip and glide of your hips, smoothing a patterned homage

The kisses that engulfed me were ever present; generously offered.

Touches became craved, breath became new life, as a baptism

I believed in the magic we created, equal to equal, of one mind

Notes of a sermon

Darkness is a shadow friend

Grief is not darkness

tribes of outlying wild

Authenticity over conformity

Common Spirit of Love

Honor the Divine within you

Be a Holy mess

Misfits are never forgotten

Courage to be

winds of homecoming

Silence is a state of being

Be Now Love

Be intricately deep

The Conjuring

Solitude and entertainment

Conjure me up from thickest air

a stunning constellation

Thick with juicy conversations

filled with mutual admiration

overflowing with elation

Releasing all earthly despair

Like the Lord’s prayer,

grateful center founded

Unconditional love surrounded

Victories unbounded

Glorious peace astounded

An opportunity for a social affair

The First Lie

The sword and shield were presented

with blissful harmonies resplendent

Intimately hidden bubble of opportunity

God and Goddess, Blessed Be

Magic ricochets a woven web

half truths, well meaning said

Belief in love generates sharp fears

of rejection; of a thousand tears


She takes her pills like a holy sacrament;

A daily communion with health(ier)

Praying for atonement’s relief

Others make it seem like it’s a choice


In the darkness I call my tribe

So that I,

may see the light

In grief, I am surrounded

by sadness deeply founded,

On the angst of permanent refrain

I cry out, again and again.

I hail the light that comes flowing

from my Tribe’s great knowing

that I too, will survive the darkness