Today I lay it all down
in a sunny shale rock place
trusting Earth to receive all that ails and pains me
with a mutual exchange of love
every inhale and exhale

December 2014

Eggshell, Caterpillars, Flies and Snakes

Friendly flies tickling pink flesh
I wonder what death they hatched from
They remind me of the necessity
Of buzzing enthusiasm
Life is short
I tell them
My shit may stink but I’m not dead yet

A question arises as I hold robin’s egg in hand
And my hairy legs become ladders for many fuzzy ones on their way to treetops—Have you hatched yet?
Or, are you still looking for a place to be reborn?

Gratified heart sinks into green earth
Mind expands to far off insects in the sky
Slow silent strokes
Body a place of rest
For all that buzzes by

Even as

young snake weaving through grasses
Haunts my footsteps for rest of the day

June 2014

Found never lost

Thought I lost all
     my rocks today
         on the steep incline.
Tilting forward
     ground so near
         I’m inclined to recline.
Sun just sublime
      needles of all kind
         I think I’ll drag my butt behind.
As feet decline
       to be defined
         soft turquoise becomes my mind.

(Much later in the evening, at home, I found this friendly rock hiding in my bra. Lost my rocks became thought I lost.)

March 2014

This Is Not Nothing

Sun soaked eyes
Brain gone
Wide open
Dried out of all words
Porous
Like a rock that lives in the sky
Solid yet expansive
Am I

Pinon Tree says nothing
This quiet seems unnatural
Haven’t I heard you sing before?

It’s not till I arrive home
Surrounded by my things
And the muteness that can sometimes be my life
Pinon Tree
I hear your song
Still vibrating under my skin

In my home
Your song
Stands out

This is full silence
February 2014

This morning I missed winter on the Northern California beach. But when I went up into the Sangre de Cristo Mountains I discovered that—

Rolling down fluffy snow banks
Colliding into hidden logs and bursts of scented pine needles,
Is dizzying invigoration
Just as being pushed and pulled by hidden ocean tides
Till I no longer know where land is.
Both take me into a state of creative chaos
Where the I gets lost to a larger force of nature.

Lying above
Burping, half-frozen brook
On fallen, fat, white Aspen tree
In the sun
Is just as rest full
As warm sandy alcoves
Away from the ocean salty breezes.

Both
Take me into stillness
That is ribs expanding
Against soothing Otherness.
That is also
Me

January 2014