Finally, finally

Do you always trust your first initial feeling?
Special knowledge holds true, bears believing.
I turned around and the water was closing all around
Like a glove, like the love that had finally, finally found me.~Stevie Nicks

I want to school her in yes and
clinging to her ideals sunders

our agreement. I say, be cautious
of labels and she says it shouldn’t

matter, only right action does.
The judgment of what is right

so nebulous it creates a fissure
and our power diminishes. We wade

through tidal pools, chasing
the truth while ancient coral

cuts into our flesh as jagged
matter does. We reach the sea

at last, this pulsing vital force
like love, too endless to name

even though it’s often claimed
in the beginning was the word.
Continue reading Finally, finally

Yes, and…

The young kayakers circle the island,
eyeing the strange fishermen silently
casting. Ripples in the lake reach
me watching from the connected
shore. Who can say who belongs
here? I can no longer continue
my previous life.
It lies broken.
The lies broke my careful
façade. I find I must insert
the cedilla to ensure softness.
Sounds instruct.

Clueless kayakers approach,
bright orange flashing paddles
the quiet. The old fishers turn
their backs and plop their bait.
These kids, confused and
territorial, righteous and curious,
make their lake-round.
They do not wave to me,
seem oblivious to the swooping
plover. Splashing with a
settler’s proprietary ardor.

Words conduct a symphony
of meaning, impose order
on the chaos of now.
Assembling the anomalies,
escorting them—all squares
who can’t fit into roundness—
off the premises. And we of
circling natures feel the slam
into each corner, trying
to pretend we’re sound.

At last we heed the stream
of messages. The world rights
itself in our new vision.
Inclusive hearts open
as we step out of the
shards of shells containing
our un-grokked past. Ignoring the false
future beckoning madly,
we simply breathe
in this new place.
Yes, embracing now.

Inspired by:  Continue, Previous and Broken.

Not To Be Found

The words have an empty ring and they don’t really mean a thing without love…~ The Carpenters (remake of Love is Surrender)

I notice the water is choppy

in my inner lake this morning.

An hour that usually dives

into the place of pure

surrender, lying on a night-

beach in Atacames, ocean

black ceaseless stretching

under the piercing star-lit

colander of constellations



Even the dawn lacks glamour,

just a gradual lightening

of autumn-silenced morning.

I reach for the doorknob

just as a feathered body clunks

against the window. In the next

room, the light pours out

before my fingers touch

the switch.

I drag

my expectations as I examine

every gift: careful


of the betrayed child.

How to allow

the crashing


strange coincidences

the funhouse distortions

reflecting my quest

for perfection

that will finally grant

safe harbor?

This, too, I heed



as I yield

once more to now.

Inspired by #OctPoWriMo Day 1 Surrender