I sense a softer us Feel it in my bones Like a memory Something I’ve always known and want so deeply to re-remember. Re-kindling its warmth within my hips Re-connecting the fibrous veins of our stems where they’ve come unattached. Allowing space for the heavy wet of your petals to fall alongside the back of…

When someone deeply listens to me I can feel my words landing on their flesh, finding ways to settle in, sink beneath the surface. There is no immediate response. My movements– nervously picking at tiny hairs embedded within my sweater… Anxiously waving my hand back and forth in the air as if physically shifting something…

Don’t you be giving it all away now child. I’ve done taught you better than that. As many times as I saw you through the night, wild-eyed and wanting.  Weary and afraid. Of being alone. Someone done thrown you from your sacred. All intricately woven into the rough-edged lace that is you. All soft and…

You’ve gone away from me. Yet my body still carries your touch, Feels the weight of you, warm and soft. When I close my eyes I can almost recreate it. I’m sorry, I whisper into the night. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. A million times I’d say it if each uttering, each syllable retraces…

Tell me what, if anything at all, lasts. I’m having a hard time with the impermanence of it all. If the damned lyrical dance of love and loss is all I can trust, well I better grow thicker skin… or surely it’ll all be shed before I’m 40. I reckon, I too, wasn’t built to…

Light your lanterns now. We’ll need their collective glow on the journey ahead. Hold fire in your bellies.  Keep coals steady to warm you through the darkest nights. And oh will there be dark ones, so thick you can’t see your feet,  so stark and abysmal you’ll lose your head in it, so afraid to…

Awoke this morning, slipped on woolen socks, coat, scarf, then boots and cut out into the frost of November for a good long talk with fall. I had a few things that needed sayin’…about the inevitable circular cycles of being, about letting go while holding true. What a thing that is. ‘Cause no matter how…

A long cry of oOoOowws making their way through the bare branches and across the creek. Untamed. Their high pitch guttural pack-song pierces the cool fall air, Bouncing circular around the holler back into the hay field and into my loft window. Like a siren’s song, haunting and wild. Seducing me into a trance. Awakening…

This house has awoken something in me over the years. Something old. Something hearty, like meat and potatoes, simple, without all the fixins. Like thick leather boots on hardwood floors, solid and familiar. It’s a feeling you can’t get with rubber soles or heaven forbid, carpet. It’s like something I’ve always known, even before I…

Here in the great big beautiful nothing. Here alone with a heart yearning, ovaries aching. The sea stretches on for days. A coolness lifts my sin, pulling me outward. My mind wanders in the lapping waters. It is a utopia in which I am alone. Here with tender, emotional, “simple” you. Here with a woman…