someone’s notebook 



blowing in the wind on the side of the road

page after page fanning out

immediately I thought 

of all the stories that we carry 

writing word after word 

those pages impaled

until one day 

something in us just throws the whole thing out the car window 

on our way to some greater place of freedom





My mother has been gone

A very long time from this world

But I still remember the sound of her breath

When I would lean my head against her chest.

In the pine forest today

The wind made that sound

Through the tall arms

That welcomed me

To a place of belonging

Where I could rest in the first and pale

Morning light

In the longest winter of my soul.

To the altar of that forest floor

I lay down the orphanage 

I have carried in my heart.

Heavy things belong to the ground,

She once told me.

Returning it to its rightful place

An offering of the hardest stone, 

Somehow shiny and valuable in the leaving.


Sap Moon

Her arrival is understated 

Like that underground river 

Just surfacing below the ice.

The pale, matted grass of seasons past 

My pallet.

Under my belly I feel this moon

Calling up the sap that will be my lifeblood.

Long, long winter

You tempered me,

I know only in this first dawn

I was worthy of your efforts.

I open to the ground now

Inhale a new life just beginning–

Stretch into my tallest form

And reach toward that place in the sky

Invisible, but I know you are there.


I’ve exhausted my mind of its much talking
What was a tiny bubble tight in my chest to hold my breath
Is now my whole body inhaling
My nervous anticipation of the Dark Teacher
Passed into the silence just before her arrival.
She has gone into contemplation for the day.
Dawn comes now, quiet
Cold and white filled with the black skeletons of trees
Behind them, a purple murmur to the east horizon.

I am ready Dark One.

I surrender upon your altar all that I’ve possessed,
Or rather, all that has possessed me
Take even my name to your abyss
Set me out alone into your darkness

I will wait as long as it takes for my vision to come.

Thank you.


I am going to the highest place
I am told the journey is far.
This deep, empty longing–here, in my chest
Says hurry, hurry to that mountain–
Lay back in that water surrounded by snow,
Let the river hold you,
So you can remember.
As your vision fills with stars
Breathe deeper and listen–
It might be here where the Phoenix and Dragon will call you Daughter,
Child of the Universe.


When the mind is like that underground river
that runs clear at the wellspring,
and the dawn light breaks apart even the darkest of despair
drawing your attention to the horizon once more–

When your own heartbeat is suddenly audible over the world that seems to be racing toward something long since forgotten,
and the autumn leaves orange, yellow, red, rain in grace to their end,

Another year is drawing to a close in a lazy current toward winter silence that finds your breath coming in a little deeper to a place in your belly that longs for real fire–

Remember again that song your child heart knew, somewhere between the stars and that river, you gave yourself away absolutely, and that world took you into its family.

Begin there.


i am

Today the horizon is shaped like an ocean surf,
the grasslands too, roll like water,
undulating shade and light under clouds moving like ships.
Here a piece of high desert driftwood
polished smooth by wind and time,
faded under this sun.
Water’s familiar form goes everywhere
that life does.
Inside of me too,
mostly water.
And perhaps also there, a wise, old sailor
for these seven seas.
I had always hoped to find her at the helm
so no matter what the seas bring
I can be solid,
without trembling,
I can stand willing
with an open heart,
having faith in the vessel
that carries me-
filled with knowing
that if this great ocean reclaims me
today is a good day to die.