A Willow’s Lament

The willow boughs in comprehension

Lose track of the wind

on the mirror surfaced lake

christening the sky

with clear intent

Where is the offin

but sky and earth

the heavens ornaments

of universal praise

And yet, in the kitchen,

where life is rebirthed,

there gathered the women

pottery deep into breakfast

the labor of reassurance has begun

the calm center of the maelstrom;

change the only constant

There is light

Light in the darkness

Light in the chaos

So is life with death

Born when it’s time to be born;

die when it’s time to die.

It’s movement, a process

where peace with time is in repose

there is an order of things

neither joy nor sorrow may take hold

Yet, Spring, herald of rebirth

has abandoned blooming,

it feels like Winter

Like the depths of the ocean

have suddenly become thick air

Upon this fleeting dream-world

Dawn is breaking

Even though some trees are bedecked

The willow boughs in comprehension

Acknowledging the bond

and where

the direction of love is not lost

the deeper treasure of sweetened time

will reap its own reward.

Cycle turns

flowergarden

I am an untended garden, riddled with forget-me-nots and weeds

My earth has not been furrowed asunder; tilling life to the topsoil

I have grown fallow, un-supporting of life, but yet, there are some

perennials that cling to a hope of return, of vibrancy dallying

But I can only roll over in my floral nightgown, whimpering in my bed

allowing the blistering son to scorch my once glorious stance

I admit, I’ve become self-watering. I needn’t wait for the gardener

My groans of grief roil the soil, creating bitter roots exposed as lies

Everyone knows that when the earth laughs, people die.

She accepts their bodies back to her world, but I could still breathe

so I am not granted respite from the overabundant fertilizer spewed

over my once lush landscape. But, I will rise, for the weeds can’t hang on

when I forbid grasping of my rooted passion for life. Here she comes

the one that removes the rot with compassionate hands.

Here he comes, the one that scratches that spot in the very middle

She tends to me while singing lightly a childhood song forgotten

He digs deep with his grip, releasing the tainted, blighted plants

She opens the earth to expose me to the warmth of attention

He plants perennial seeds to grow through the coming seasons.

I inhale deeply, knowing that my rebirth will again grow fruitful.

My cycle continues in ample countenance to their loving attention.

I await my own fruition. I will grant only the very best of myself

to create the most beautiful garden I can create. This, is why I weep.

Community Prayer

My neighbors,

We are gathered here today in peace

We honor the truth of the word love

We strive together to build a better community

To promote and create our neighborhood

That takes care of one another through

Respect, compassion, courage, and vision.

For anybody that would not honor our covenant

We will lead them by our actions to the light of love in your name.

Hear our prayer so that we may be one people, your people.

Thank you.

Keep the Heart Fire burning

The moldy crust of forgiveness lay on your counter forgotten.

When I first baked it, brought it to your table, broke bread with you

We ate with greedy abandon. The suggestion of freedom beamed

like a hearth fire we’d built together, but you abandoned our haven

Though guilt didn’t lay a head on my pillow, nor did shame,

I wonder if you ever wonder about whatever we became

I built my oven with encouragement towards success

You kept blowing out the embers, dumping water on the heat

Leaving my bread unleavened, flat, and eventually, I also left.

I eat my dinner, more than bread, at the table of successful abundance

I hope, someday, you will understand what I gave to you

in that warmly baked, love filled loaf of doughy comfort food.

A visit from Atropos

The time of despair has lost its hold, refusing shaded respite

The grief of absence embalming heart, releasing darkness desperate

Returning the prayers of the wandering spirit, sealed breast and bone

Sending back the wilderness, refusing pleas to roam

The earth collects the debt it’s owed without a loss of haste

Slinking roots memorializing while the stolen life displaced

The plaque above the anchored gypsy reads:

“None are ever lost when their courage is found in deeds.”

Love Lives

The place that is welcoming

is the home where love lives

Not only where love is,

but where it is cherished

nurtured, adored, revered,

but most of all,

given fertile soil to blossom

overly abundant blooms everywhere.