Until You’re dead- You’re Alive

If you want to live then you have to die.

As Willow said with a laugh,

It’s kind of immature to think you can avoid it….

“Talk about entitlement”


Ann who died recently,

Is the color yellow.

A long line of daffodils

going up over the hill.

And the peace I feel

Is yellow.

Seven Sisters

I am the seventh sister

Stars in her heaven

Shining around her

Offering her a sponge sucker

To wet her month since drinking from a cup

Has lost it’s appeal.

Dying is phenomenal

An out of this world experience- literally

As we sit beside her

We are so completely present

Attentive to each word, each look, each laugh

John is there too, sitting beside her

And with a knowing cackle

She gave him some advise….

“Appreciate Sally”….

(An insider remark if ever there was one)


What a privilege to know Ann Ripley

She has been an amazing friend

She has punch and wit and push back

Her brain still sharp, as her words slur and pause now

Her inner eye on the exit.

Her six daughters are in grief

I am too- it’s tough to say goodbye

But just as I was leaving

She gave me this piercing look

Of such love-

Such fierce sweetness- this.

It’s the path, it’s the right direction,

and the energy to travel this path”

Valuing Purpose

It’s been a full-on ride of late

I won’t go into details

But the wake- up call has gone- out

Can you hear it?

Now Now Now, like the beat of a heart

Insisting on the best in me ( in we)

Which is only possible

If I can keep the worst in me

Close at hand, like an errant child

Best to keep track of her.


But really my first and only job

Is to hold the value of the soul signal

I came here to deliver.

When this hierarchy has been corrected

When value supersedes karmic identity

The natural strength of the valued purpose itself

Supersedes the rest

And everything is so much easier.


My right hand shields my left

Like a wing over a rock

Give is a feel- it’s how we work here

Two things in harmony but a choice has been made.


Peanut Shells

The evening air blew cold –

“Come on Spring- you can do it”

I found Priscilla on her couch

Covered by her comfy blanket

Her day’s work done-

I offered her salty peanuts in the shell

They are so messy even on a good day.

Priscilla doesn’t mind a mess…..in her kitchen

Every bowl and cup and cat food tins….

I am in love-

It hasn’t all been cleared away

Dish washer safe- we are not.

It’s the tangle and mash and crusted decay….

Unswept like creativity.

The bowl of peanut shells is overflowing

As I delight in her booklet of today’s ink drawings

This page of various medical procedures in her week

Each one a dear portrait of a square headed human

with glasses- getting blood drawn or pugged into a machine.

I am in love.

Soul Retrieval

I’d been knocked off my axis

The collective illness ( I dare not say it’s name)

Has an evil streak

And I’d gotten caught in it’s net

“Separated from my joy”

As noted by Charlene, my energy massage person

As she held points, like at my elbow

Realigning what was missing

And in holding my hand

She felt the physic travail of where I’d been,

And she didn’t let go.

The miracle of the witness,

Just to have someone else truly know

Makes it possible to come back.

Roadside Trash

I’d read that if you’d like to have closer contact with fairies

Pick up the roadside trash.

And in doing this small thing

I’ve had a shift in my consciousness.

Maybe it’s the fairies that are now whispering to me

But I made more eye contact with people yesterday

And rehung a sweater that had slipped from it’s hanger in a shop.

Perhaps it’s in doing anything different from our pattern

We become more available

Our true selves wake up a bit more.


What I picked up is this…

7 newspapers in green plastic sleeves

A napkin and swollen phone book,

A priority package- address long gone

( inside we two boxes of covid tests)

Later-donated through our local give- away.

But most interesting… were the two bottles of cinnamon whisky

Tossed within a 100 feet of each other

And in bringing one in with me to take it’s photo

I feel like I have someone’s talisman

A fairy ring in the forest.

Sibling Rivalry

My little brother, Jay ( 70 yrs old)

Just joined my blog today

(Right after I told him not to.)

Relationships are so precious and precarious

Wrestling it out today…..

We went to the mats….

This tug in my heart to say

How important writing is to my life.

He’s a writer too

(So you can see the trouble we might have)

But after I told him a bunch of my truths

When it was his turn to step up

He hit the ball out of the park!

Doing exactly what I told him not to.


HI Jay and Welcome

The Collage of the Two Birds in the Snow

was made by Priscilla Cohan

Two Kings

“The World is so full of a number of things

I’m sure we should all be as happy as kings”

Coming back from the land of illness

I am so easily pleased,

Jean Pierre and I scratched away the black ink

Covering the bright colors below

Working silently with our pointed tools

Happy as two clams,

Oooo-ing and ahhhhh-ing over each other’s art.


From the land of illness too

In a morning conversations this week

I was able to name Our Myth….. when I said to John

We are The Two Kings

It has taken me a long time to claim my throne

But now that I have………..