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The Stars
The stars are dancing hydrogen
helium atoms in the Universal sky
— and in your night a lullaby.
The stars are expanding gases
hosting planetary spheres
spinning dimensions of time and space
— and in your night ancestors
holding your sacred place.
Where you are weak, and I am strong
let me lift you.
Where you are sad, let me hold
the healing bowl to capture our tears
and together, we will water your garden.
Mary Kay arrives to Heaven On the back of a Harley
–dedicated to Mary Kay Crawford, 1937-2014
(Mary Kay was an art therapist. This poem is based on a drawing she completed called, A date with ED)
Oh my God, she exclaims
As she enters the diner
which, between the
fluorescents and Formica, glows pink.
Coffee, black and lemon meringue pie!
she orders, taking a seat at the counter.
How you doin’? She asks the man already seated there. More roll than man, he sits in layers spilling over the counter stool.
The slice of pie arrives and is passed, have some please, she insists. It is wonderful.
Yes, Yes, it is. He smiles at her over his lowered fork.
And under the buzz of fluorescents, the layers give way to love.
Thanks, he shouts after her.
Clang, the bell slams against the glass door.
He sits, clean cup and plate
beside him.
The clouds are angels
and the sunset my soul spread
across their hearts
red
violet
I
This morning, the rainbow
before the rain
The sky a diffuse light.
II
War, illness, mass shootings, a world in flame
leaving behind a home, bank accounts,
photos and grandmother’s needlework
in that moment, none of it matters,
only the hand in
your hand
as you pass death
on the street.
III
Epigenetics now tells us
what some already knew,
for seven generations trauma is imprinted
on the soul.
IV
Some are turned toward leaving,
taking intergalactic space,
rockets burn through
the atmosphere.
V
And those who always have
love the Earth anyways
the song, the dance, the tears
penetrate that greedy ash
the rain.
Living with the Possibility of Dragons
A part of me is a fantastical child
who believes in dragons and waits.
When I tell this part of me that dragons are not real
she becomes despondent, looking only at the ground
on our walk.
One day, during quiet observation, I found her drawing
the dragon– a circle around the Earth, biting its tail
And I understood the importance of dragons. The wings
and fiery breath her protection.
I cannot convince her she is safe. We agree never to trust someone
who says, trust me. I come to honor her mystical magnificence
And in our agreement, we walk kicking through leaves,
listening to birds and trees, watching butterflies, looking for lizards
taking in the sky and ever moving clouds
And live with the possibility of dragons.
Lessons from the dragon:
Genetics Undone
Elegant threads of DNA
genetic predisposition
softly blown away
with an extended exhale.
A spiraling journey
along strands of time
family inheritance, past
present and future unwind.
Elegant threads
a fine embroidered vestment–
Celtic knot, Nordic blue weave that center
the red, orange hue of the passing day.
Energetic strands now lay as waving lines
rippled through quantum fields
vibrating high and true. A family legacy
to honor and not possess.
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