Vanishing Act

Sandy footsteps stolen by gusts of wind,
laughing away any physical remnants of
our walk in the canyon.
Does the cold granite remember the warmth of me?
Or the flittering tendrils of butterfly feet
that alighted upon it?

Heaving breaths and footfalls later,
the thrasher zigzagged among boulders and cholla,
dancing along the threads of its harmonic web;
ducking, perching, puffing, calling out,
frozen and piercing with its amber eye,
then off again.

                                                 Tracing backward:
Before slip-sliding down gravel paths
and climbing out from the hills' shadow,
whispers of water seduced my parched ears.
Evidence of her sweetness
in the smooth grooves and dry canals,
the force of her reduced to
a few damp patches of earth and one trickling puddle.
She vanished;
a hint of willow green,
sweet nectar for the mourning cloak...

...transient desert Mother.

Gratitude contd.

Words of the Elders

first a chink in the dam,

eroded, one drop at a time,

love's waters slowly smooth away the rough edges;

silty earthen nectar pours out,

coloring, mixing, swirling, sloshing, settling,

until the river flows a deep, muddy red.

Pema, Robert, Larry, Margaret, Sylvia, (elders)... 

thank you for your guiding words, spoken from the heart.

May they be among the drops that start the flood

of gratitude, love, wisdom and freedom.

Day 4: The Pages

The gift of this moment.
How does it reside with you?
Can you hold in your heart the trees
that were felled to carry these words?
Can the calls of the birds
who rested, fed and nested in their branches
echo in its chambers?
Can the gentle breezes
that tickled and shook their boughs
cool and soothe its aches and palpitations?
Can the sweetness of their sap
flow from its valves,
filling every cavity of your body,
and spill back into the earth?
Come revel in her,
she beckons to you.

Day 3: Rosamond

You hold my shakiest moments,

and I yours,

and we often take each other for granted,

though our hearts tell us otherwise.

It pains terribly me to see you suffer,

and so I know that you are more than a friend,

and we have woven ourselves into sisterhood.

My sincere wish for you is happiness beyond limit.

I wish to see you smile from the deepest reaches of your heart,

and extend to yourself the same boundless love

I have heard you say others deserve.

I wish that we stand with each other

despite the many faces we may put on in baring the seasons of this life.

And when the fruit of our bond is ripe,

I wish that we let go completely,

so that its divine sweetness may nourish others in their time.

Dearest friend, sister,

it is with the deepest sense of gratitude

that I walk beside you in this world.

Day 2: The Welcoming Neighbors

A lovely little haven lives right next door to me.
Through the gate: poppies, basil, living green,
chicken clucks, shade, running water.
Where friends invite you for dinner,
for conversation, for treats from the garden,
for sweets from the oven.
These friends send the soothing lull
of harp tones, send encouraging words to your ears,
lend shovels, soil, wheel barrows, bike parts
to help you on your way.
So alive with color and warmth,
it's a pleasure to think on
the little haven that lives next door to me,
and an honor to know its keepers,
who hold such a sweet space in this world.

Gratitude Challenge Accepted!

I had a lovely meeting with a friend last night. Somewhere in our conversation, he encouraged me to challenge my powers of gratitude, by writing a daily poem to some object, person, place or experience I feel grateful for.

Sitting out on my stoop this morning brought on a wave of happy to be alive feelings, and a reminder of the conversation. So now, one poem later, I am setting the intention to take on the gratitude poem challenge, and write one poem of gratitude every day for a week. Once at the end of the week, I will reevaluate, and see if I can extend the challenge for full month.

Day 1:

Ode to Marigold

Bud after bud, bloom after bloom,
you're a vibrant little splash in the garden.
It's as though all of autumn's color
dove into your delicate petals,
to rinse the eyes in a raucous spectrum;
a delicious draught
of golden, orange, scarlet, yellow delirium.

Here on the Mountain

I've written my first "real" song on the banjo. Here are the lyrics...

A million hands are clasped

Along the mountainside

To withstand the echoing blast

And bellows from the sky

Trembling, aching, slow

One hand lets go

Pressed against my heart

A hand that quakes and starts

Chorus:

Here on the mountain

The spring flows

The clouds roll

Here on the mountain

I’ve left my heart

Here on the mountain

the lake’s clear

the heat sears

Here on the mountain

I’ll find my heart

I follow her up the crest

The million watch our steps

That carry us to the lake

She plunges to its depths

I wade out behind

And sink into the pool

The hand that held my heart

Finds me trembling too

Repeat Chorus

The clouds clear from the sky

Sun pours into the lake

Into the little one and I

Urging us to wake

Repeat Chorus

Here on the mountain

I’ll find her

and hold her

Here on the mountain

My little one

Here on the mountain

Lake water clear

Sun’s heat sears

Here on the mountain

I’ve found my heart