Aug 12 2016

behind the scenes at
the center of everything

there is this heat you wear like a blanket

there is this weight you carry in a pocket made from penance

there is silence in the mist of white noise

there is sanctuary

hidden

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May 31 2016

it all grows tall

the robin woke me this morning, calling hard and loud to greet another day.

i admire her optimism, her ability to sing the world awake, her ability to proclaim that being alive is the very best thing, without doubt or second-guessing the effort it will take her just to survive.

she has blind faith and i admire that, too. that’s a different thing than standing small beneath the sky of infinity.

or staying inside when all the windows are open, because even though I can hear that robin, there are still all these walls.

and that’s what I keep coming back to.

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May 21 2016

my garden grows {1}

.

she nods her head

at everything

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agrees to nothing

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Apr 9 2016

in my garden

i’ve buried all the pieces no one ever gets to see

fickle fallow and everyday shallow
not enough coin inside oversized purse
cold confidence and chartreuse envy

and in between daisies
tiny fingers
of longing

in my garden i am always
over-exposed
and therefore
hidden

sun beat and wind burn
the torture of
bent back
long squat
digging
in the soil of silence

crows
are my charm
and for them
i leave glamour

gifts of
gilded bone and
beaded sinew

and we dance to the rhythm
of hidden heart broken start ritual
refusing to accept the blue bowl bright sky storm

raging just beneath the lost forget me not sea of invitation

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A poem a day for 30 days, in honor of National Poetry Month: Day 9
I’m participating in NaPoWriMo, and the Writer’s Digest Poem a Day Challenge
Today’s theme is a combo of NaPoWriMo’s lines that scare you and PAD’s: hide-out.

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Aug 8 2015

mary gold

.

rose every morning

with a smile on her face

her heart on her sleeve

and the countenance

of wallflower

.

she understood

that being overlooked

was not the same

as being

under paid

.

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Aug 1 2015

purple party dress

.

for a dance

with a bright blue moon

.

one hand

waving free

.

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Jul 21 2015

widow’s peak

remembering the history of love
is not the same as living it

so much of it is
setting seed
and letting go

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Jul 16 2015

focused on the center
of acceptance

Or struggle vs. acceptance, and how to know which one to adopt.

These days I lean towards simple, where less always feels like more,
and grace, where struggle always dresses in silence.

And I’m not sure it’s wisdom.
I fought life so hard when I was young,
these days I prefer to acquiesce to the nature of opposites.

The good with the bad, the light with the dark,
the tears with the laughter.

It’s not giving up, it’s honing in.

It’s not compliance so much as forgiveness.

It’s arms wide open to whatever comes.

Life rains down upon us and washes us clean.
Again and again and again.

We live in the dust and we live in the dirty.

And then comes the downpour and we live some more.

Soaked and sodden, a bit downtrodden.

Bending in the wind that did not break us,
the breeze that dries our hair,

the sun that warms the shadows on our skin.

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Jul 11 2015

rain dance

.

in a forest of kisses

a flock of geese

bow their heads

with a nod

to the sun

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Jun 9 2015

in the garden of forgiveness

purple is the shape
of letting go

and blue is the beginning
of sacrifice

all the scars and torn edges
faded blooms and broken stems

form the canvas of whole
and the soft brush of plenty

as gold fills every sky
with perseverance

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