Poetry

Foreign Treasure

Where is the place we live…
this foreign land
that slept in slumbers of familiarity
for so many eons?
Yet we awaken
with a strange light
and our faces
fall short
of closeness
in the mirrors
of other’s times.

There is a smallness
in the heart
that turns back on itself
and searches for a source…
folds and folds
enfolds
a warm blanket now cold
with dew
 of a dawn
odd
in sensation
yet
this is our home…

written 9/29/16 from a an improvisation of spoken poetry

 …

Reflections

ANGELS IN TREETOPS

In October 2009, I wrote a poem inspired from one of my experiences while running. I was thinking about all of our loved ones who have gone on before us and what it must BE like for them NOW…   As I mused about this I became aware of the mighty presence of the oak trees that lined the streets I was running down, and then I noticed how the wind blew through the leaves and branches of the trees.…