White Dog

Yesterday our neighbors large white dog,

I dog I always said hello to- a kind dog-

Died from a rattlesnake bite.

Protecting her people

Or Haven, the two year old

Who lives in a tiny home with his mom

On the same property.

Or, me…..who walks the road.


Is death just our fate-

One day it is simply upon us and off we go

A unsuspected surprise

(In a good way.)

I do know the tunnel is filled with light

I have seen it- white.

Gaining Consciousness

Can I see my part in the story?

Can I name the grubby little worm

Taking a bite out of someone ( that I love).

Judgment is not invisible

The other person can feel it….

But more importantly- I’m no longer free.

When I cast the stone

Then I am buried by stone.

The universe wants us to get this.


I think that I judge

Because the past is bugging me….

Some undigested shame

But what if…

I do not let the past define who I am-

I define who I am

Stoking the paw of the bear

Friends with myself.

The Fight with the Father, in Her Many Forms

I fought with my father

Even though he was pretty cosmic

He thought it best to limit me

( they all did- the culture of the 50’s)

Enter Here

Into the jaws of the heart

I married a man

Whose father died before he could fight with him

And lots of stirred up and unresolved energy

Has accompanied his life, but now

There is a new level of awareness ( maybe)

And the fight has a hopeful possibility

Of opening the molecules that require light…


The true father wants to give it all to you

Even if you have to wrestle his ass to the floor.

Enter Here

Best Beloved.

Shared Field- Nothing Finer

Aren’t we beautiful?

This is us- human beings – Being

So very beautiful and this week

I had an inner experience of this shared field…

The field that is always present

But is not always felt.


A new friend came over and wondered where John was

And I told her that he was at Dialog…

And she wanted to know what “Dialog” was

So I said ” it’s you and I

sitting across from each other

and a third chair, pointing vaguely to the right….

And at that moment

the space opened into a kind circular field,

A cosmic peripheral vision

of love so complete I sobbed

My heart was full,

Hers too.

Beltane Pig

Sniff the air ….and

Maybe there is a treat nearby….

Left behind from yesterday’s compost pail.

Delighting in her own totemic being,

She is a representative of the goddess

Bringing forth her Earth-body

From the spinning void.

Bestowing fertility on field and womb.

Nurturing the arts and

Protecting the home.

And with a happy twist of her tail

Pig leads us to set loves mysteries in play

With her astonishing joyous intensity.

Singing “La la La La”_ It’s May!

Mary Magdalene and her daughter


“The imaginal realm is real

And through it you will never be separated

From any one or anything

You have ever loved

For Love is the ground

In which you live

And move and have your being”

I gave this painting

To a friend for her birthday

She has a young child and a poetic soul

And doesn’t like Christianity much..

She didn’t know about Mary’s significance….

She’s a master

Equal in love’s wisdom to her partner

And mother of his child.

My friend took note that in the painting

The mother is anonymous ( no eyes)

( she loved that)

But also available to everyone( no eyes)

( I loved that)


Spring by Edna St Vincent Millay

I asked her

What’s that April Poem

by Edna St Vincent Millay

That mom so loved?

She, of course, knows the poem, quoting….


“To what purpose,

April, do you return again?

Beauty is not enough”


The poet’s desperate reveal,

Threading me back into my family

Mother, sister, me.

Expressing exactly how I feel

Bereft and set adrift

In the underworld.

“Beauty is not enough”

And when I asked my sister

Why do these words help so much.

She said, because they’re true.

I’m Coming to Gobble You Up

There is a Troll under my bridge

And me and my friends are the soft bodies

Attempting to cross over.

Trip Trap Trip Trap Trip Trap

Quaking when I hear,

“Who’s that tripping over my bridge?”

As a child I was thrilled by the danger,

Now the danger is too real.

Two of my pals are in the hospital

Facing danger on their own.

My humble e mails of good cheer

Seem small next to the size of the beast.

Trip Trap Trip Trap Trip Trap

Bravely we cross this bridge.


But just know this

I am the Biggest Billy Goat Gruff

And I Kick Butt.

The Mighty Zora

“Babies need someone to feed them”,

A surprise to John who is helping Zora

With her breakfast this morning.

And his honest admission

Of not feeling a desire to do this simple thing

But there he sits- tiny fork in hand.

Zora is the third child of Molly and Tres.

Tres who just turned 50,

Resisted her coming but here she is.

Life will have it’s way with us.


As my friend Phyllis likes to say

Amor fati

Love your fate.