In an abundant wood Of Queen Anne’s lace dried and brown like bamboo, the ant scurries its way over fallen bramble and raspberry thorn, twisted California poppy blooming orange. As I lay there, intertwined listening, I hear an old man with an ancient smile in simple language say – “Every step is a Prayer.” 1…
I love this poem, for so many reasons, but mainly because it fortifies the heart and strengthens resolve. The Abnormal Is Not Courage… poem by Jack Gilbert, Monolithos The Poles rode out from Warsaw against the German Tanks on horses. Rode knowing, in sunlight, with sabers, A magnitude of beauty that allows me no peace. And yet…
The poem Alethea, by Mark Hannan in 1993, was written as an invocation creating sacred space and is meant to be accompanied by the beat of a doumbek or celtic frame drum.
After Many Years Absent Single bits of many houses clumped together green shingled eves, a patched chimney cracked, layered slate roofing, and attic dormers the pale sky almost violet, fading in this between hour after dinner and before bedtime remembering. I have spent the day inside this house, alone going through the rooms one floor…
I Must Go to Hephaestus (a Sestina) . I try to find comfort for myself not only with words in private but, by howling from the ashes: a raven from dust. Not with words in private, but to go boldly as I tell my tale of a raven from dust; knowing how one can surely wish…
