Today

There is weight in the word “carry”11216587_10206478118263683_3028741297045237260_n
exhaustion, a heaviness that heaves a sigh

Today I set down my garden
Oh, not completely, never completely

I will let beds unto themselves, allow a give
and take of seasons passing

I will empty pots, crumbled and
weathered over years of trusted work

I will carry simplicity and nurture
abundance only within my reach

Today I set down past hurt, yes,
no need to make room for such folly

I cannot amend ghosts who
ride beside me, whispering their call

I set down their reins, release the
tether, no longer will I carry

Today I set down my fear
a weighted bundle of nihility

I will preside in the here and now
in light of day, depth of night

I will smile of me and in gratitude
of grace sweetly poured

I will walk with you and with those
I am given, animal and insect, too

 

Today I will set down my titles
for I am sixty and begin anew

 

I will let wind name me
I will let rain purify me
I will let earth ordain me
I will let sun commission me

 

May I carry that which gives life
May I carry thanksgiving in my stride
May I carry Light for my path

 

Amen. Amen. Amen.

New

Ocean.jpg

The largest coral reef
in the continental U.S.
is dissolving into the ocean

like a sugar cube dropped
into a glass of water

Coral skeletons
rebuild themselves
over time
if there is enough time present
before they are no more

we press on
our acidic ways leaking
into ocean tides of our souls
spillage of damage
unaware

Sixty years I have stepped on this earth
and once more under
a Taurean New Moon
I rise to remake myself

Given time and big sea tears
I wash away
become new again

.
.
.
Author’s Note:

In a few days I will turn sixty.  It seems implausible. I don’t feel “sixty.”

I will take this lovely number with its roundness and curves. There are no rough edges or points, something that comes with age, refinement through weathering, loosening, learning to flow not demand a fit, but allow for imperfections, a curvy road along the path, arms holding, a sigh.

Yes, 60 will be good.

My Feast Day

In gentle light of fading sun,
when I know deep stillness
will soon shroud my being,
I slow myself to pause in the
flush of day’s end, and ready
myself to plunge with audacity
into the unknown.

It is my feast day, a remembrance
day of my birth, the beginning
from depth into light, from
assurance into bold awakening.

I’ve traveled far since my advent,
crossroads in the distance call for
negotiation. But this night gives
me joys to savor.

In gratitude I hold you dear,
my friend, my love. My heart
is extravagant with your presence.
I am brave in your goodwill. I
am boundless in my journey
with you at my side.