I release to You all that is fear.napofeature3

I surrender my breath
to be filled with your life.

I still myself so I may hear
your heartbeat.

I settle within your compassion
to see others the way you see me.

I rest, held in your palms,
in the wideness of creation.

It is not my design, but yours.

May I let my wild being
flare in your fire, purified.

May I realize myself
in your presence.

May I walk my path side by side
knowing we are One.

May I heal in your sacred unfolding,
trust deeply, dance lightly,
revel with abandon.

May I lay down who I was,
and accept your Grace to become.




NaPoWriMo Day 30 The end.

As in all endings, there is always a new beginning.


It’s that place I camenapofeature3
to realize was always there,
well, maybe not always, or
maybe that didn’t matter, it
met me, just me, it waited for
me to take that last step, or
was it the first step, onto its
hold, the deck I couldn’t see
through fog, or was it tears,
I trusted and licked the final
footfall off solid ground
that was safe but no longer
held promise, just pain,
or was it emptiness, and I
advanced from embankment
onto bridge that joined me to
something I couldn’t see,
I didn’t need to see, because
I accepted you would be there,
I was brave in myself to take
the leap, course ahead,
span your footway
suspended over an abyss,
delicately balanced
in your hallowing,
and never looked back.




Author’s Note:

NaPoWriMo Day 28. Sigh. Only two more days.

“And now for today’s prompt (optional, as always). Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem about bridges. A bridge is a powerful metaphor, and when you start looking for bridges in poems, you find them everywhere. Your poem could be about a real bridge or an imaginary or ideal bridge. It could be one you cross every day, or one that simply seems to stand for something larger – for the idea of connection or distance, for the idea of movement and travel and new horizons.”



Broken open

Don’t abandon me



Fractured morsels

Piece me together



Loving hands

Hold me near




Author’s Note:

NaPoWriMo Day 27

I welcome today’s simplicity.

“And today’s prompt – optional, as always — comes to us from Vince Gotera. It’s the hay(na)ku). Created by the poet Eileen Tabios and named by Vince, the hay(na)ku is a variant on the haiku. A hay(na)ku consists of a three-line stanza, where the first line has one word, the second line has two words, and the third line has three words. You can write just one, or chain several together into a longer poem.”



Kiss me in the rain

They tell me I wouldn’t likenapofeature3
the rain if I lived it, in a place
where it doesn’t stop for days.

They tell me I don’t understand
because I am native to sun. It’s
not me that doesn’t understand.

There is a voice inside that
sings and sighs when rain
enfolds me.

Grey skies and pattering quiets
me, hushes the fuss, makes space
for me to listen.

I refuse umbrellas, let
water splash upon my
toes in sandaled feet.

I welcome the rain to touch
my skin, drench my hair,
clear away my sadness.

They don’t understand
rain like I do. Kiss me in
the rain, and I am yours.


The Ladies


St Therese of Lisieux,
what the other sisters didn’t know,
snuck off to the kitchen
to enjoy some leftover chicken.

Mary Magdalene once said,
“Don’t let it go to your head
and be careful not to fall,”
was to Peter her warning call.

St. Brigit of Kildare
was far more than just fare.
She milked cows and brewed beer
keeping others in good cheer.

Sophia, our lady of wisdom,
set herself apart from the great “hisdom.”
Her spirit wends its way
through our lives everyday.




Author’s Note:

NaPoWriMo Day 25. A bit of silliness today following the prompt.

“And now for our prompt (optional, as always)! It’s the weekend, so I’d thought we might go with something short and just a bit (or a lot) silly – the Clerihew. These are rhymed, humorous quatrains involving a specific person’s name. You can write about celebrities, famous people from history, even your mom (hopefully she’s got a good name for rhyming with).”

I decided to go with the ladies who are currently guiding me. Such fun!

St. Therese of Lisieux

St. Therese of Lisieux

Mary Magdalene

Mary Magdalene

St. Brigid of Kildare by Joanna Powell Colbert

St. Brigid of Kildare by Joanna Powell Colbert

Pistis Sophia by Louis Janmot

Pistis Sophia by Louis Janmot


I heard that poetry is going extinct,napofeature3
government data shows, a Friday
afternoon tweet to end the week.

But I wonder if they heard
the darling little bird outside my
window before dawn,
it’s featherweight held bravely
by budding branch, itself
tweeting an arrival that returns
without fail in creamsicle
goodness each day.

I wonder if they heard
my first graders who listen to
Dickinson and Guthrie,
Williams and Hughes
as they place their chewed pencils,
erasers gone for the use,
on lined paper almost too
narrow to hold their words.

            I have made a erath
            today. It looks pride qute.
            I wote wrds.

 I know what he means.

            I have made an earth
            today. It looks pretty quiet.
            I wrote words.

Or, I wonder if they heard her,

            owl owl come
            I love you you love
            me hoooooo said
            owl I am a girl said
            the owl I follow the
            forest I love the hooooo
            I follow the village and
            I follow my self I love
            the forest forest and
            I love my self the
            people say I am a
            gorgeous white owl
            I love when people
            say I am a gorgeous
            white owl I just follow
            my heart people follow my
            heart I say to the people
            hooooo they say
            I love owls they say
            I will follow your heart

I heard someone tweet today
that poetry is going extinct.

I wonder where they heard that.




Author’s Note:

NaPoWriMo Day 24. I did not use the prompt today. A tweet at the end of the school day caught my attention instead.

According to government data, as reported by the Washington Post, poetry is going extinct.

Not in my life. Sorry. Data, whether in standardized assessment in the schools or studies funded by who knows what, only tells a tip of a story.

There is more. There is always so much more.