Autumn

Today,

When it finally rained

After months of smokefire skies

The house spits out a collection

Of things I was supposed to do

Yesterday.

Looking around,

The list is sketched out

In precarious book piles,

Plastic boxes with lids

Removed

(Guts made of paper files, ideas frozen

by icy neglect)

Mail, unsorted

Licorice on the kitchen counter.

I wanted to sort my life

Before I became a real writer.

However:

every day, the writer that writes

Scribbles

into a composition notebook

Seeking

A wise thread.

(In opposition

To the sludge of

Worry) I whisper, not wanting to offend the Muse.

Hope

Flitters past

Not caring if I saw the entrance

It doesn’t help that my ancestors

Worked tirelessly

Toward perfection

Scraping a path of

Longing through my DNA

I don’t want to be perfect

But I sure don’t want to be a mess

Or miss out on the big reveal.

Haikus for a changing season

Trusting passenger,
I listen as he describes
this world we now share:

Women in burkas,
ten lanes of racing traffic,
sirens day and night.

Small talk still connects.
Wildlife, found at the edges.
The Metro nearby.

I will carve a life
day by day, remembering
My Spirit creates.

Adult size poem

The kids, they don’t know yet

What it’s like to be

Covered by the nesting doll

Of a few years beyond

I remember being

Their age, being their spunk,

Hardly stopping to make sure

I had gas

In the car

Heading out

To the next dream

I am a few sizes

Down the road.

Not larger in body,

Though in aura I radiate

Beyond what I once called me

I remember yearning for a time

When something would rest

Long enough

To make sense

A different day began today

With this calmer mind

But I do not forget

The passions of not knowing

46 more school days

Forty-six more
school days:

Seniors working on their last stages
of morphing
from chrysalis
to butterfly,

Each one struggling
to free themselves
from the tight
grip
of childhood.

I watch them turn and twist,
unable to assist
except for the occasional
burst
of
encouragement.

The requirements for all involved
are sealed tight
in individual scrolls

held close
and made ragged
by birth

Beacon

As I turned toward the window
in the darkest part of night,
something familiar
pushed through my dreamswept mind~

The moon, shy at first
behind fleeting clouds,
drew my attention
and
patiently shone,
midcycle,
partially molting
(it seemed to me)
as I focused my eyes.

A question leapt to my heart,
for this moon
gave comfort~
I'd awoken only minutes before, feeling that kind of fear
only known fully at night.
I felt the question
without really understanding it,

And the moon answered,
"Just wait."

As I lay there in bed,
still hoping for more,
the clouds once again
hid
that light.
Moments passed
and then it returned
in lopsided glory~

an imperfect beacon.

Walking Haikus

Familiar circles
of movement once brought comfort;
now the door opens.

A flicker calls out.
Putting on my walking boots,
I follow the sound.

A great sky intrigues,
celestial thoughts beckon.
Nature calls the shots.

Peaceful heart walking,
Busy mind can wait for now.
It's good to feel free.

I wanted to be famous when I was a child; 

someone who was on tv.

Watching teenagers dance

on Saturday mornings,

absorbing countless episodes of

Star Trek after school,

committed to imaginary

friendships with characters

that fought evil and loved with gusto.

I didn't want to be a witness

my whole life,

but one of the bold ones.

I knew that what happened

inside that box

was only a sampling

of what could be.

But what happened on tv

did not help me figure out

how to live in my body,

navigate my mind, or choose the 

right path. 

I did not learn to listen

from that teacher,

nor did I learn to feel

connected 

until I turned the distraction

off.

The buzzing of silence

formed a question mark

that made me seek

something else.

What I have learned from 

peace

has taught me everything I needed to know.

The simplicity of watching

a hummingbird

gave me wonder;

the gratitude for a western river

has humbled me

and the dream of a full moon

reassured me.

But what changed me most

was time.