Quiet yourself
Down to your core
For even a moment
And you’ll feel how
Everything is holy.
No need to seek divinity
In only designated spaces;
There is God in every flower,
In every breath.
Drop into stillness
And know.
Holiness
Pioneering
Pioneer spirit
Runs, tenacious,
Like a wild stream
Around and through
Every obstacle.
It runs in families,
Each generation
Determined and resourceful
Like you wouldn’t believe.
It runs through my mind
Every so often,
The thought that
We each pioneer
Our own way,
Brave as can be.
Transfer
Take my hand
And we’ll chase the waves together
And then bury our feet in the warm sand
And let the sun dry us off.
Take my hand
And I hope you feel my love
For every wonder around us
And also my love for you.
Beads of Light
Beads of light
Drape from my neck
Like a rosary or mala,
Counting prayers or mantras or hopes
As I inhale,
Exhale,
Breathing divinity in whatever form
It’s offered—
Morning sun,
A warm room,
Quiet hours,
Green plants,
Meditative time.
I want to remember these beads
When I can’t see them;
I want to remember to count the ways
Divinity manifests in every moment.
Friendship Bracelets for Sale
Couples and groups came
to our booth
wanting tokens
of their love and friendship.
“Cheaper than engagement rings,”
one joked.
“Do you have another
that matches this one?”
many asked.
“I’m picking for her
and she’s picking for me
so don’t let her see it,”
some said.
Sure, there are coincidences,
if you want to call them that;
but everything is relationship,
and coincidence
is the universe handing you tokens
with humor or precision or surprise
to say it loves you too.
Before We Slice the Angel Food Cake
Cake is the most celebratory dessert—
“Today is special! You are special!”—
And also a bit of a diva,
Pretty much demanding
Photographs and songs of praise
Before it can be cut.
This angelic version
Begged for ruby-colored berries
And cream as light and fluffy
As summer clouds
To hail the start of the warm months
We’ve been craving.
Peonies About to Bloom
Maybe your life
Is still unfolding
And the full-bloom,
Riotous, multi-layered best
Is yet to come.
Or maybe it comes in cycles,
And you’ll blossom again and again,
Stronger each time.
So Puzzled
There’s a metaphor here—
Something to the effect of
Life is a puzzle
And everything is interconnected
Even though you can’t see
How all the pieces fit …
Because someone sat on
The big picture.
Wayward
Nonconformity
Can be healthy
And beautiful,
I say.
If someday
The whole bush is half purple,
Half white,
Because I didn’t pluck out
This “wayward” branch,
I will love it
All the more
For being different.
Tennis Ball
I didn’t see it
Until after—
When I went back
To that moment
Via a photograph
And thought,
How funny to miss
What’s right in front of us
Just because we’re focusing
On the big things
And not the small;
I thought,
How easy to lose small
And simple things
In an ocean so big;
I thought,
How lonely to feel
Unnoticed and small
In a big world
Until we learn
To be at peace
Wherever we are.
