The Magnetism to Light

That tumultuous energy rises up

and naptime is over.

He’s wide awake and oh,

such passionate overwhelming

joy and utter despair.

His older brothers are exhausted

chasing the escapee

— he’s fast and committed,

there’s no hesitation to meet

this wild and wonderful world.

Inspired, I feel the tug

an invisible cable connecting

our resplendent hearts.

The enthralling blaze

burns away time,

surmounts the past

and flings us into the present.

And we’re running

with no care for the sudden

scraped contact with sidewalks,

the reddening flesh that surely

will bleed but now

we pick ourselves up

again and embrace

this vital force,

the life that wants to live

bursting through our cells

calling, come on, Bibi, let’s go!

And I’m here, my darling,

filled with gratitude and awe

by your two-year-old healing prowess.


 Inspired by Cable, Resplendent, Enthralling, Surmount

Be Right Back

I have tried walking away calmly

while he is reading a book with someone.

I have slipped away quietly

even sneakily

when he is absorbed by puzzles.

Once as he was eating food he loves

I was there and back again

and he never took note.

Yesterday I walked him into the room,

discussed what happened there,

and then closed the door between us.

Oh, the cries, the pounding on the door,

the calls straight from the heart

devastated, abandoned with no resource

no matter who else is in the house.

And the relief on his face when I finally

after two long long minutes

reappear, tears still staining his cheeks.

He has only been on this planet

for a such a short time;

we still count it in months.

I have the feeling that he knows me

in some other plane, and that

he has things to share before I go back there.

That bathroom could very well be a portal

that I use to go back and forth

to a place he loves and misses.

It could be that he knows what I don’t,

that far too soon this grandmother

grandson bond will transform yet again,

that our time together is so sweet

that we should be suspicious

of the doors that separate us

even for a very short time.

Inspired by The Daily Word Prompt: suspicious

Nursery Rhyming

“Take care of your friends.  You never have to feel lonely ever again.” — Jeroen Raes 1

There are all of these mirrors, you see

and songs that identify head, shoulders, knees and toes,

knees and toes.  We teach

our young to trust appearances

but the dark truth is:

we are mysterious creatures,

a walking bacterial colony

having a human experience.

We never mention our gut flora

although we urge handwashing with antibacterial

soap, proving how little we understand

our actual identities.

Our bacteria crave the foods we are drawn to,

and it is easier to be a slave

to a sugar addict

than to step up and feed

the flora that keep us well.

Can you imagine a board book

for toddlers that describes

the 100 trillion bacteria

that we really are?

I would hope it includes starshine

and waves of energy,

all the invisible lifelines

that make us feel whole,


constellations working optimally,

spiderwebs of connection

and a song about how the doors

of the heart go open and shut

all life long.

Inspired by The Daily Word Prompt: creature


A Day In The Life

He fell headfirst onto the tiles

laughingly evading me with two

fistfuls of empanadas spilling out.

Tears, ice pack and blueberry yogurt drops

eased us back to smiles.

He ran toward me later

filled with glee, grabbing my face

and taking tiny chunks of flesh

in his fingernails.

A conveyor of wild nature spirit

must use any tools he has.

He can say “hawk”

because a red-shouldered beauty

perched right outside until he noticed

it preening, then lifting its wings

and spiraling off, like the star of an airshow.

The “H” is a long exhalation,

the sharp “K” a reverence.

We watch the windows

carefully: the hawk brings messages

from the spirit world, reminds us

that the most ordinary experience

is deeply meaningful

if we are ready to see.

Inspired by The Daily Word Prompt: conveyor

Meow, er — Raaawr!!

“Can you become yourself in a way that adds a blessed roar to life?” — Michael Meade

I had more of a lilting song in mind,

trilling a la songbird,

fingerpicking my guitar

as I croon folksongs.

I only roar when my toddler grandson and I

hang out with stuffed lions

or tigers in board books.

I understand you are not asking me

to take this under advisement.

This is a direct challenge

for me to straighten my shoulders,

and roar from my very depths

with the intention to bless

the intertwined entangled

beingness that we are.

Ahem.  Here goes.

Inspired by The Daily Word Prompt: trill