Poems

Forgiveness
(from An Invitation)

There’s something new about the world
the day after it rains.
It’s as if an artist
erased the whole palette,
then redrew homes, the trees, the sky
with bolder outlines, and brightened
them with new paint
more vibrant than the old colors.

What if we were all artists
washing away old images of ourselves
with tears of forgiveness?
What if you could see
past outer appearances
and your heart was
your only canvas?
Would you imbue it
with the shades of your love,
or tear it to pieces
to equal
your number of self judgments?

There's something new about the world
the day after it rains.
An artist erases the whole palette
for the chance to begin again.

A New and Deeper Truth
(from Under the Waves)

the old truth made you
run a thousand miles
inside an arid desert
desperate for an oasis

sit and close your eyes
inhale the breeze of kindness
exhale the toxic judgments
dehydrating you like a prune

feel the pain of old patterns
trapped in tense muscles
it's ok to cry, to taste
the salt of possibility

just be, just breathe
let waves break against
the silence, returning you
to a new and deeper truth

Precious
(from Under the Waves)

This world is so beautiful;
how could I have missed it?
Driving too fast, passing
blue and cloudy skies,
sensual trees with wildflowers
strung through their leafy hair
posing for lover lakes,
gray buildings stretching vertically
to escape dog poop and
the homeless’ stench of truth.

Everything changes.
Nothing lasts forever.
Still, I’d like to remember
long walks on the beach
with Papa, how the salty air
welcomed his tears as we
discussed his death,
the death of all things,
ashes on water returning
to ocean’s womb.

Earth's Eternal Heart
(from The Voice)

in the end all we have is this-
the ebb and flow of breath
our lives mosaics of
seaweed, shells, and stones

let's not waste time
arguing about who's right
but meet at the edge
of our misunderstanding

where we can dissolve
all stories of separation
in sand and live in sync
with Earth's eternal heart

Wound Care
(from The Voice)

Keep it closed for the first few
days, months, sometimes even years
bandaged against the oxygen of consciousness.
The cut's too deep, not ready for the
sting of alcohol wipes or saltwater tears.

You'll know when the time is right,
when the wind that once rattled
your bones with thoughts of
lions, tigers, and bears, oh my
becomes the breath that can save you,

when the wound is ready
for full exposure
to the depths of its darkness
and the edges of healing light.

Thanking a Monkey
(from An Invitation)

There’s a monkey in my mind
swinging on a trapeze,
reaching back to the past
or leaning into the future,
never standing still.

Sometimes I want to kill
that monkey, shoot it square
between the eyes so I won’t
have to think anymore
or feel the pain of worry.

But today I thanked her
and she jumped down
straight into my lap,
trapeze still swinging
as we sat still.

You Ask Me to Be Your Mirror
(from Under the Waves)

You ask me to be your mirror.
How do I look?
I could comment on your

physical appearance or tell you
how you make me feel.
Why such emphasis on outer beauty?

It's your inner world-
your demons and diamonds
I want to reflect back to you.

Do you know how galactically
beautiful you are-
black holes and stars,

celestial planets.
Who ever said you
were bound by this skin?

Who ever knew scientists
have yet to discover you
and give you a nebulous name.

The Right Question
(from An Invitation)

Don’t ask why a loved one
left or why illness came
knocking on your door,

a salesperson sweet talking
you into purchasing a peculiar
gift when you’d rather

buy another life or
take an extended
vacation from it all.

Don’t ask why you look
older than you should,
why your child isn’t

obeying your commands
as they follow an internal
compass you cannot

control, their footsteps
falling outside the lines
of your dot-to-dot dreams.

Mind thinks, worries, plans
as you dangle from
the end of a question mark

the sea of fear below you
only a point,
a wave returning to

the hearts ocean,
the whereabouts of
kindness and compassion

replacing all the old questions.

Never Alone
(from The Voice)

I want kindness,
the kind that makes you
want to take all the horror
movies and burn them in a
great big bonfire on the beach
under a full moon, no werewolves
only brave stars to witness
the end of dramatic fear.

I want kindness,
the kind that makes you
pull out your last $20 bill
for the person holding up
a sign, specific words
to their story too long,
too precious for a dingy
4x4 piece of cardboard.

But most of all I want
self-compassion to be
the new drug, more popular
than Lipitor or Lexapro
unclogging arteries hardened
by inflammatory judgments,
balancing see-saw perspectives
weighed down by worry-

one hand taking hold of the other,
reminding you you're never alone.