The Insanely Precious, Ordinary Moments of a Life

Sunday, December 28, 2014


When you can no longer recognize the sound of your own dissonance

Forget not
your strength has already been ground-truthed.

Engraved in your body are the coordinates
Of a basalt bedrock that is deeper than the waves of change,
Steadier than despair.

Courage is to live what is;

To look the truth in the face without blinking.
A place pretense cannot abide,
Where ugliness reveals itself to have been God all along.

To stand amid the fearsome water rushing wildly where it will,
Dislodging riprap from the banks
And carving a new way,
Moving ever on in infinite power.

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

with boundless love

What if it was your child,
                                       Don't say it
being pulled from the rubble?

I don't want to feel it.

What if it was your mother
bleeding from her ears?
Could you hand her over to spend her final days in quarantine?

Cover your ears, close your heart, run from the words.

But how can the world heal
if we don't let the pain in?

Scream the pain out.

And how can we weigh a life-
what is the exchange rate
of a Liberian to a Palestinian or Iraqi or Honduran child
to an unarmed black American teenager,
to a beloved celebrity?

from your beautiful, living compassion.

We're all in this together.

Compassion emboldens us and gives us the courage to cross into war torn cities, to offer kindness to the suffering, to sacrifice, to speak out at great risk.

We must be the voice for the voiceless.

Our weapons will be our compassion
and insight.

If you are afraid of the pain, hold on to me.
We will not break apart.

Beneath the apathy is immense power.

With boundless love, we will work
to dismantle arsenals of hatred and indifference.

May we be a refuge to everything that lives.

Thursday, July 3, 2014

To sit

To find a quiet spot to sit and watch

how the bumblebee lands so gently on the flower petal, how the petal lightly bends under the weight and curls around the soft body until it turns and is gone.

See how the sparrow turns its head a dozen times to be sure it is safe before its beak disappears into the warm ground and surfaces with a worm, so clever to have known all along what was there.

And my clumsy hand can hardly pull a weed without snapping the stem of the flower I wish to save, and cursing. What the animals must think of my gracelessness, my noisy oblivion.  

Perhaps they think nothing of it, only wait for the nuisance to pass; while I spy on them (not undetected) with rapturous curiosity.

Monday, April 21, 2014


Who are you in the dark-
where no one can see the days that brought you to this moment
or the moments enshrined in the quiet inner room of your heart
that once created a sea change.

Who are you when the quiet is broken only by the rhythmic breath of your sleeping child
and you must face how stupid it is to have believed your ego, that trickster
that anything matters but an open heart.

In the darkness you make a promise;
Cherish those that are dear
and let the others believe what they want.

The fear that keeps you awake deep into the night
is a lie.
In the darkness you resolve
to let it all fall
to save what burns in you.