BYE NOW

A daily rhyme would be sublime
but I don't seem to make the thyme
so I'm taking a break
until I awaken
the odd parts of mine
that will only eat bacon...
the effort was made
but resistance gets played
and I can't stand the flys in the ointment
or living with constant dissappointment.
So goodbye for now
until the cows come home,
or the chickens are back in their roost.
My writing will go back to the closet
but I'll be back
on the wings of the goose.

COME IN I SAY

Magnificent bruin on two legs
stands with his back to me
gazing out over the landscape
from the front porch
of my dream.
I'm the nervous nelly,
creator of the dream
calling Stephen
to awaken
with my scream.
A bear,
a huge black bear
I seem to be afraid
and yet
deeper,
in my heart of hearts
I am grateful
he has graced me and my dream.

I trot the periphery
of my world...
hidden,
solitary
picking berries
and humming to the wind.
This empty soul
who cares too much,
she roars
and grunts
invites you in,
doesn't mind the wildness
of your smell.

Come in I say...
enter here
through my heart.
When my guts are done
with burning
we will trot
together over hills.
But for now,
please come in
and stay...
a cup of tea...a rhubarb tart
a bearish groan
a wild new start...


I've bearly begun.
Bear with me I say,
I grin and bear
a newfound way,
open my doors to black spirit bear...
you are welcome
and I don't really care
what the neighbors think.
I pick wild mint and rhubarb stems
and dream
of opening my heart to Bear.

MY MAINE

How I love this state of Maine...
reminded by the woods in rain
that here am I
alive and awake
where the shy lady slippers
evade being taken
beneath the shade of poplars and birch
and roads still exist
that lead nowhere
but are paved in flowers...
bluets and may,
violets galore
my heart sings a song
as my feet touch the floor
of the wet
woods in spring.
Hermit thrush sings
the brooks trill along
in fact everything
seems to be singing a song
and my heart gets giddy
just listening ...
I am moved by my moving
through wild woods in rain
to come home and to sing
about
my love for Maine.

THE MUSIC OF MARRIAGE

Two hollow bodies
occupy one chair...
touching slightly
there is room for air
to move about
betwixt and between,
the musician master
is just unseen.
Someone plays upon the frets
a song that time can
let us forget
as we become such familiar folks
the romance is buried in layers of hopes,
layers of dissapointment,
sedimentary matters
harden upon us
and we lose our faith
that there is a music
playing upon us.
Sometimes it appears to be
we are just 2 hollow bodies
leaning at ease,
so comfortable in each others presence
that we've lost the music
that sustains our essence.
And then the day comes
when the air moves just so
the notes emerge
the music flows
and again, we remember...
that something divine
is plucking our strings
and making us shine,
because marriage is music.
A song about love
plays our hearts,
tunes our souls
so that even deaf ears
hear the joy that unfolds.
And hearts that lie under layers of silt
are moved by the player of strings,
melody soothes,
rhythm releases
notes and riffs fill empty creases
and couples
recall
they can dance.

GOODBYE MRS. FINCH

The sweet and gentle air of May
lifted me from sleep
to greet a wide and open
bluebird sky
raising my heart
from  embers that lay dying.
Bouyancy of spirit,
lightness of heart
opened the door
to discover
a dead female goldfinch
lying on the welcome mat
belly up with feet to the sky.
In that moment
of a winged heart,
to greet
a winged creature dead...
I grapple for the meaning with my head.
But in my heart,
my questions rest,
I breathe,
awake
to morning blessed
knowing that a tiny piece of me
has passed
and today,
on my doormat
dies
that girl who burned herself with lies
crashed into her own reflection
killed by kindness and dedication.
May she rest in peace
beneath the lilacs,
find release.

SLOW BURN

Anger...
it burns just below my heart...
a slow heat prone to flares,
quick to rise and dance
in righteousness
regardless
of passing creatures
who cannot sense
the miasma deep inside
and ...walk
a wide circle around me.

Fires gone wild
radiate heat
so hot
that one cannot venture too near
without being burned.

Forgive me dandilions
as I rip and tear
pull you out by your roots
vent my bitterness
standing here alone,
under the sky,
under the clouds
listening to the swishing new leaves
of trees
and the arriving celebrations of the birds...
burned by my anger
digging in the dirt.
Forgive me.

GROWING JOY FROM SADNESS

My sadness spills out
wetting soul,
wetting eyes,
wetting my hard tight heart.
Moisture spreads
and I am the seed
splitting apart...
tearing the bad from my goodness,
the mean streak from my kind self,
I am ripping in half.
My past child self from her urban oasis screams
while the old country lady I've become
whispers soft soothing words to ease transition.
The pain
is ME splitting apart,
the weeping is my submission to moisture
on the warm black soil
where I now find myself
becoming
a tenderness...
a fervent green shoot
insistent on its growth,
pushes against my sides
reaching upward in yearning.
My form changes...
I begin to leave behind
the hard casements
of my ungerminated heart
as the growing joy
spreads tendrils
and climbs
one step at a time
toward the sun's shine.