poem
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Let He Who is Without Sin Cast the First StoneTake up space in creation.You already do.Take your place in creation:Your place of creator and creature,As the imaginer, the imagining;What you slow grows; and what you let pass shall slip away at its pace.You see, there never were any rules.But if you want one, here:You cannot…
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Crystal Teardrops (on Gender)My poems are crystal teardropsborn of confusion, crystallizedby its resolution.They work their way out;I cannot push them.Here’s one.I am the lightest amongst womenand I beat the heavy drum amidst the company of brothers—And why shouldn’t I?I carry years of Knowing and Unknowing,of the hardening and softening,of the chortles and the fire;and it…
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Who Are You?Who are you? What are you?Who are you? What are you looking for?Who are you?I can see I.Eye can see eye.I can see I.Who are you? What are you looking for?(Now I know, and I’ll go, and I’ll see.I never knew what you needed from me.) In lieu of an original poem, I’ll…
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Upon AwakeningFor what was I born?What did you want from me, youwho woke me from my slumber?Or did you just wish to show mewhat it was to be awake?To be surprise itself.To talk with a bird, on a walk, too small for my hands.To know the crunch of a pinecone underfoot.To feel the warmth of…
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Conversation with a TreeI ask the tree,“I know that my binaries are spectra,and every name’s a judgment.Any walls I have ever built worked both ways.But how far can I extend?And If I start, can I stop?”It says,“I grow upward because there is no limit;If I began from a height and extended downward,I would have fixed…
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The Man with no PrideFor me there’s always timeswhen words can do no better:The laughter in your eyes,the pattern on your sweater.I don’t pretend to knowthe places we could go for warmer weather.For me there’s always times when words can do no better.To the man with no pride,Nothing could be better;For the man with no…
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When the Light’s Indigo (On Heaven and Hell)Relaxing a fistthat you didn’t know was closed.Radishes—how they wave their magenta redsThrough photon fields to find me.How mother’s voice gets softer when she sings.Where will I go when the light’s indigo?(and oh what a silly thing to say)But while I am still, you can bet thatBrick by…
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To See and Be Seen It is a burden to be seen. Does she stare at people too long because she is trying to see herself in their eyes? And what does she see there? It is a treasure to be seen. In her I see a brook, carving gently, slowly Soothing with a crisp…
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We Lose Sight of it in Small TownsWe lose sight of it in small towns.In the forest it is clearWhat tension grips the heartwoodAs bustling the leavesAnd desperately the roots reach out—To live, To take, To change.What difference it would makeIf I could live half so ardentlyAs once I loved you. This is one of…
The Trinitarian Mystery 