A Cloak

is the cloak i fear most.
It beckons
with a promise of healing, connection
and authenticity.
Can I try it on
and let it fall
if it overwhelms?
Can I stand in my vulnerability
ready to share
to connect
to be present
or will my over analytical mind
take over the process
ruining the sacred
with all that chaos and chatter?
I’m not sure,
but I know
it is time
to embrace this vulnerability
knowing the hands
of all who guide me,
that have passed-
before me,
through me,
and into me,
are here
surrounding me
telling me
over and over
you are strong
you’ve got this
own your power
own your destiny
reclaim your abandoned soul
it has been waiting for you
with immense anticipation.


cf0ad83491112ea77383e39a1e906d60connection made
rose tinted glasses firmly in place
aliveness awakens
oneness found
magic unfolds
eyes open
reality rears up
disillusion rains down
struggle ensues
glasses shatter
pain begins
disappointment penetrates
sorrow seeps in
I bow out
turn away
snuggle back into
my nest
of detachment
life is screaming
wake up
look at ME
this is all your creation
own it
and transform

The Journey

today instead of writing, I am reading . . . this is one of my favorites by Mary Oliver


The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice-
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations, though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen branches and stones.
but little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do-
determined to save
the only life you could save.

RIP Eric Garner

RevDrMLKJr-Hands-Up-Dont-Shoot_zps92f66f96Hands up
no violence.
Arm viscously ensnares neck.
I can’t breathe,
a whispered
repeated over and over,
to no avail.
Men pile on top
Stomach down.
I can’t breath.
Left on the sidewalk
like trash.
No rush to save a dying man,
a father,
a husband,
a brother,
a son,
no more
just gone
by bullies
with badges
hired to serve and protect.
Who were you serving?
Who were you protecting?
Collectively hear our cry
for justice
for accountability
for peace
for unity.
We won’t be silenced.
We stand together
hands on our hearts
demanding change.
Demanding we all do better.
Let our commonality as human beings
unite us, not divide us.
Maya Angelou said it best
“when you know better
you do better”
When are we going to know better?
When are we going to do better?
The time is NOW!



Sorrow and pain bite at my heels
I am running.
I glance over my shoulder
and suddenly I understand.

“Sit, says my heart,
be still and know
this to shall pass.
Suffering, just as joy, belongs to all.”

I look to the moon
to guide me back home
the only home I’ve ever known.
The one inside.

Many nights awakening
in the darkness
I can still hear their cries
just like Clarice.

I try to free them.
Save them.
They are confused
They keep screaming.

They can’t break away
from the imaginary chains
that have bound them to suffering.

The gate is open.
Freedom is one step away.
Their cries are deafening.
Confusion sets in.
They can’t see that deliverance
is so close.
They succumb to the darkness.
Believing that, that is who they are.

Will their Savior come
or must we all learn to save

Lost at Sea

31fb7d558b6f5c1463cda110bb437e81I wanted to be
the one who made
your life light up.

I’ve become the one
who darkens your world.

I can’t morph into
your everything,
so you’ve made
me your nothing.

You lash out with labels.
The blaming and naming
shit storm of our war of words.

No ability to be present,
in this moment.
Lost in the past
of what used to be.

Unable to look within yourself
to find who you really are
apart from the achieving
the accumulating
and dictating.

I too remember a kinder
gentler time.
We can’t go back.
That space belongs
to the new loves.
The innocents.

We steam rolled into our future.
Forgetting to wait for one another.
One was always behind
and one ahead.
Never united.
Seldom together.

We were sucked into a whirlpool of space.
The space so vast,
we are no longer able to find each other.
Battered, exhausted, and disoriented
we are lost at sea.

A sea of our own making.