Little by little.

Little by little we build the lives we dreamt of. 

Little by little I build myself  

Or perhaps, chip away 

At so much hard concrete 

Blocking out the truth 

Of who I have always been. 

Little by little 

I come back to myself. 

Remember: we don’t have to 

Be or do it all. 

Little by little I listen more closely; 

Trust what is happening inside me–
This voice that sounds at once 

Foreign and also enormously true.

I recognize it. She spoke to me 

At 2am in a smokey Brooklyn loft, 

Asking me over and over again 

To look more closely. Not accusatory but 

Curious. Not shaming, but true. 

Wise mind, crone woman, looking from above 

Or within, even then. I am still not accustomed
To heeding her call. 

To getting quiet enough to hear her clearly.
To give her a chance. 

These days, little by little, I am trying. 

A gentle pause. Calming the urgency. 

Take a breath. Tune in. 

Everything is waiting for you, 

Right here. 

The sky is dark now 

And my to do list is still very long. 

But right now I am here, pen in hand. 

It will get done, little by little, most of it. 

The rest will wait–till after Paris, 

Or April, or whenever the day comes 

When her voice calls to me and says,
Now.

Love Letter.

What I most want to say is this:

I am here for you;

I won’t waver. 

This life was made to be lived;

Do not spend your days waiting 

For anyone. 

There is nothing you need 

To get on with the beautiful business 

Of living.

Look outside — how the sun rises 

From behind the blue gum trees,

The morning birds flying 

This way and that. 

This life is ready and waiting for you. 

Arms open to receive 

Your every word 

Generous heart of the world 

Hungry for you. 

“Here we are” say the sparrows, 

The lavender and rosemary blooming 

In the garden. 

There is nothing more wondrous 

Than the generous beauty of ordinary things.

Look at how the clouds move 

Through the sky, 

How the light dances across 

The stone face of the ancient mountains, 

Shadows and light making the world new 

From one moment to the next.

You are the same. 

One of the whole. 

Ever changing & filled 

With light.

Allow yourself to sing 

Across the ancient valleys of your heart 

Reach out into the world 

And pull on her aching heartstrings. 

Have the courage, the playfulness, the love 

To see and give voice to it all 

There is nothing more holy than paying attention 

With an open heart.

Notice everything 

Give language to beauty — 

To what your heart knows to be true.

All the same.

I love her all the same 

Of course; through the 

Blessed days and the 

Bloody ones, too. 

I hold her body 

Close to mine, “Mommy, 

You are beautiful,” 

She says to me 

In the deli by the sea. 

Gulls cry and the ancient mountain

Looms in the infinite and everlasting sky. 

The ocean stretching out before us; 

A moment in time, fleeting 

And forever, too. 

Lessons while flying.

I need a new language
One that accounts for something behind the mind
Deeper than these thoughts
The every day this and that of life
I need a language of the body
A language of the earth
Words I feel in the soles of my feet
And at the back of my thighs
Words that make something move behind my eyes
And below the surface of my mind

I want to sink back into the world
To let it hold me and to watch what arises
Then make note of it
Let it seep out of me onto the page

I want space in my days for wonder and rest
And for the recording of it all
The meaning of it - the sacred beauty of these days
How they flicker past in an instant
I want language that makes them last
That captures the blessing of the present moment without losing sight of it

I want to touch down into myself
Into that part of me that is beyond this life and part of the great everything
And yet fully here, hands and feet digging deep into this messy, rich life.

And I want to feel you there
I want you to know we are one —
Looking at the same moon
Orbiting around the same sun.