Electrify me With your touch Cant describe that type of rush. Moth to open flame You call me Home. Always right there next to me, Yet I feel so alone. The coffee's on, Its two days old. Love was lost six months ago. Blue light in the hall Illuminates the hangings On the wall. Things dont matter much At all. Oh, So mundane. But who's to blame? It's just all more of the same. We just take it day by day. Electrify me With your Touch. I dont think I ask for much. Say you'll never

Today, let me soften, Let me sink Into warm waters. Be swallowed Into my mothers warming embrace. Let me melt, Melt, Melt Down to my formless being Edgeless, endless Ever moving, Ever changing. Let me unravel, Unwind like balls of twine Lost to gravity on a great hill Leaving a map to where i've come from, Where i've been, And where I lie. Let me unfold Petal by petal A rose bush in early May Uncover my center Let the rest fall away. Today, let me soften. Let this body feel w

April 23, 24 2026 My windows are open. It is April. Thick, hot air fills my lungs. The sky, erupting, Twists and shoves branches about. Westward wind stricken limbs traipse cross the Earth's floor. A lone Robin, Sheltering Beneath the crown of a sappy pine: A sanctuary from the storm. At dawn, Find me at the watershed, Wandering. Bare feet hopping rocks along the creek, Toes sunken into freshly sodden clay. Heav'nly showers Baptized the Earth, Springtime rebirth In full swing

Warmly, The mid-April breeze Nudges blooming branches Of the awakening wood. Gently brushing The golden tips of grain; The tallgrass whispers wildly Ancient wisdom of the prairie; Carries the call of the cedar waxwing, Yellow tipped tails a-flight; The symphony of the song sparrow, The great toad, The humble honey bee, The gallant grasshopper. Spreads the seeds of wildflowers And dandelion delight; I am here, Walking, Once again on these Holy grasslands, And the wind Is so Wi

On River Song by Nirvana Hope rivers to oceans a river is to youth as the great ocean is to adulthood the river is constantly flowing down, all rivers flowing down, down, moving constantly. never seeing the same place twice every person it touches every rock every tree it only feels it only sees once the river, flowing, is on its own time. moving on down so quickly we want to see the ocean! so impatient, our waters begin to rush down, down, down we flow! do not stop to a

Currently making my way back through this (amazing) collection of essays. Always have felt profoundly connected to Oliver's works. Encourage all to spend some time with her poetic prose and captivating poetry. Sharing a couple of excerpts i've been reflecting on from Upstream . From Upstream: "I am, myself, three selves at least. To begin with, there is the child I was. Certainly I am not that child anymore! Yet, distantly, or sometimes not so distantly, I can hear that child

Morning dew moistened steps, Gentle fog lifting from a chilled earth, A chorus: Winged creatures fill my ears with their morning song, The tune of which I recognize so well. Standing on lush green clover. Cool energy coursing, healing my body, bringing me back. I see her now Just beyond the crown of the mighty oak Making herself known Flesh burning Her familiar rays share their tender warmth, once again. We do this every morning.

Soft December morn. Tangled up in sheets and throws Limbs overlapping, Gently brushing fingers and toes. Lover lies awake, Basking in that single morning ray Let loose beyond the drapes of our bedroom. Coffee is on in the kitchen, Steaming up the shimmering, frosted windows. The warm, familiar scent Draws me from my lovers hold. I return with hands warm and share a sip. Sunday morning. Slow, soft, Holy.

This Human flesh The moss adorned Earth A combustion Energy Electricity and clarity I am awake I am alive Good Morning

May 18, 2025 make my wild heart wonder what I have to lose some say loves a blunder but I say you have to choose to know one another, be someone to carry through. you watch as I wander.. search for another clue. I cannot surrender until i've discovered you. dig around all the plunder just to find what's true. to be known is to be loved. but to be known, alone, is enough. chart you like the stars that I lie under find you always on my mind keep you safe while I ponder.. What

sweet April morning. dew frosted windows arrange the sun's rays so delicately, shining through each droplet, bouncing its glare from each wall of this golden, wooded room. searching... for any corner of darkness; nightshade lingering.. to put it away; replace the gray "meet back at dusk", she whispers.. "its my time to dance, today."

who am i to know who I am? who am i to be? April pouring out showing me just who is she bring me back to life, but its killing me climb into that satellite see just how small you can be to me its just a memory another bad dream but if nothing is as it seems then who am I to be? cant sleep through the night they're at my window in my sight! never can get through but i know that they're trying to. death by candle light you knew that i couldnt fight tell ya im alright but i'll n

The oak stood frozen Solid gold in the sunlight Mid-morning tea sweeped air Outside: Dewey Decadent Daylight! Keep me, O, morning Golden oak at my feet Warm comfort, Birdsong blues, Blushing heat

From April Aubade by Sylvia Plath "Worship this world of watercolor mood in glass pagodas hung with veils of green where diamonds jangle hymns within the blood and sap ascends the steeple of the vein A saintly sparrow jargons madrigals to waken dreamers in the milky dawn, while tulips bow like a college of cardinals before that papal paragon, the sun." Ah. Sylvia. Thank you Max Hawks for loaning me her collected works--I have been so enjoying the time with them. https://www.

July 14, 2024 Chattanooga, TN River, Run River, Run Under the pale blue Smoky Mountain sky I think you'll like it on the countryside. Far away Far away run to the ocean, See that open sky. No one could capture all those shining lights Dream of the day You shine just as bright River, wait. River, stay. Wait till the springtime, Watch the flowers boom.. Sleep through the winter To avoid the gloom. These summer nights, They'll be gone too soon. River, run River, run River, run R

June 29, 2024 So Many lives i have lived by just 20 Do you think the Evergreen ever gets lonely? Staying green and green As the whole world is dying I cant skip rocks or do pull ups or french braid or whistle

From Rick Rubin's "The Creative Act: A Way of Being" Why Make Art? "As you deepen your participation in the creative act, you may come across a paradox. Ultimately, the act of self expression isn't really about you. Most people who choose this path feel compelled to engage, as if by some primal instinct, the same force that calls turtles toward the sea after hatching in the sand. We follow instinct, To deny it is dispiriting, as if we are in violation of nature. If we zoom ou