Archive for the 'Poetry' Category

Rain!

Wednesday, January 29th, 2014

Look at what we woke up to! We’re praying for much much more of it. And, from one of my favorite poets: A Rainy Morning A young woman in a wheelchair, wearing a black nylon poncho spattered with rain is pushing herself through the morning. You have seen how pianists sometimes bend forward to strike […]

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If You Ask a Zebra a Question…

Wednesday, January 1st, 2014

I asked the zebra Are you black with white stripes? Or white with black stripes? And the zebra asked me, Or you good with bad habits? Or are you bad with good habits? Are you noisy with quiet times? Or are you quiet with noisy times? Are you happy with some sad days? Or are […]

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Afterlife

Thursday, February 28th, 2013

THE AFTERLIFE They’re moving off in all imaginable directions, each according to his own private belief, and this is the secret that silent Lazarus would not reveal: that everyone is right, as it turns out. you go to the place you always thought you would go, the place you kept lit in an alcove in […]

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My “Soul” Possession Here in Heaven

Thursday, November 8th, 2012

Lately I’ve been hearing two Tracy Chapman songs on an endless loop in my head. So I’m sharing. Turn the volume up and take the ten minutes listen, really listen. Embed not working: Try this. Embed not functioning? Try this.

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Tuesday, February 28th, 2012

To sit without emotion, hope or aim, In the loved presence of my cottage fire, And listen to the flapping of the flame, Or kettle whispering its faint under song. –William Wordsworth

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Spring Soon

Monday, February 27th, 2012

A small speckled visitor Wearing a crimson cape. Brighter than a cherry Smaller than a grape. A polka-dotted someone Walking on my wall. A black-hooded lady In a scarlet shawl. –Joan Walsh Anglund

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Tell Me About Despair, Yours

Friday, January 27th, 2012

As Claire gets older and encounters the world, I find myself thinking that I need an exorcism of my past. That sounds drastic, yes? Claire displays an intensity and sensitivity that I recognize. I observe how she interacts with kids at school, and I feel painful echoes. I want so much not to project my […]

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The Hundred Languages of Children

Friday, January 27th, 2012

The child is made of one hundred. The child has a hundred languages, a hundred hands, a hundred thoughts, a hundred ways of thinking, of playing, of speaking. A hundred, always a hundred, ways of listening, of marveling, of loving, a hundred joys for singing and understanding, a hundred worlds to discover, a hundred worlds […]

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Sunday, January 8th, 2012

The greatest poem ever known Is one all poets have outgrown: The poetry, innate, untold, Of being only four years old. –Christopher Morley, To a Child

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A Haiku

Tuesday, August 30th, 2011

One scarlet pearl forms like a secret emerging from a holy place. “Ouch!” by Frank Kolodziej c2003 / Exit Wound

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