Holy Week, the Entrance

She poured her breath out
in the valley between wooded peaks
rolling into the city,
a twelve sided house
filled with chant and dance
called to her

She answered in hearts
cracked opened, in release of
what was now gone, yet keeping
what was learned and loved,
planting new seeds of ourselves

Spirit wind flowed over
and around us, through
our very selves, gossamer
illusions of being

I step into this holy time
of remembering Him,
not a god all powerful
filled with retribution
but real, human

One who walked on sore feet
ate meals with his friends
held and hugged and kissed
but knew what we didn’t

Spirit dwells within, the Light,
the Breath is now,
I shine and breathe His being
as I open my eyes each morning




Author’s Note:

I had the pleasure of attending my first kirtan at The StarHouse in Boulder, CO, this past Saturday, the day before Palm Sunday.

I am always taken by the presence of Spirit wherever and whoever calls. It was a powerful evening led by Scott Medina and Shanti. Along with other dear friends, Steve Bross playing his tablas with passion, Marci Baruch lending her lovely voice, Kathleen E. Moore as gatekeeper, and Barb and Julie dancing and chanting with me and a group of Spirit filled beings.

Here I began my journey into Holy Week filled with awe and ready to discover the power and the deep passion of the One who loves us so. We are the beloved, let us fulfill this gift.




Studio P. Delbo – Le papillon de tulle, Paris 1930, posted on Ravenous Butterflies, Facebook


I wonder if there is pain
for the butterfly as her wings
unfurl from her cocoon

Time spent preparing to be,
harbored within forming
her patterns, does she discover
her ability to fly
through the pain of letting go

Her place no longer on the planet,
feet tenderly alight
in temporary rest
held in promises,
she tears through the
wrapping that binds her
leaving behind an
empty carcass

Her wings stretch wide
under Divine’s precious gaze,
colors deepen in Light
rich in her own voice

In her new-born flight
she finds strength,
her beauty

In the gift entrusted
she soars in praise
of her spring awakening

Peace This Night

Let Peace fall upon you
and wash you in her gentleness.

Let Peace rest upon you
stilling your beautiful mind.

Let Peace hold you
in her warmth and tenderness.

Let Peace sing to you her lullaby
blessing you with night’s rest.

Breathe deeply in
the arms of Peace, my friend.

Release your worries to her.
For she is strong and will protect
her loving child
granting you good strength.

Deep Peace, my friend,
this night, to you.

God’s peace to you,
my friend.




Author’s Note:

I wrote this several days ago for a friend. I now feel the need for wider healing and wish to share it with you all.


I Am Home

I am home, not within brick and mortar
entitled doors to shut out, jail in
glazed windows to safely look through, keep a distance

I am home without where no boundaries rise
in his eyes, in her laughter, in my sighs,
in a touch so gentle I gasp

I am home in sweet bird chant before the sun rise
in loam where 
roots spiral in lusty richness
in rain drops reflecting your perfection

I am home, not in doctrine
of who you are and what I must do

I am home not because I define myself one way or another

I am home deep within where your flame alights Eternal

I am home because you know me and delight in me
you hold me precious as I am

You bring me home to you
beautiful without worry

I am yours

I am home




Author’s Note:

Thank you for bringing me home.

Precious Intrusion

Do you hear it
tapping on the night window
ever so discreetly
drawing us into its
rhythm, its rhyme

First rain, spring’s
I still myself, hold my breath
afraid to frighten away
its precious intrusion

Come to me
without discretion
and we will waltz
my hand in yours
hips pressed against
one another
enveloped in
spring’s holy baptism




Author’s Note:

The first rain of spring came tonight. I love the rain.