This is so beautiful, Lisa. Each line is magical. Your ending is so gentle, kind and embracing: “I whisper, “is that you” and I allow myself to believe.” This is delightful. Thank you! 😊
This line has been stuck in my head since I read your poem: “dryad staring at her own bonewood, struck open by an accidental axeman.” The diction, the image, the meaning, the mystery - it has captured me! Beautiful.
I really like this Sarah. Mohammed Unis of Sri Lanka, a Nobel winner in economics, once said to a large gathering of students at the university where I worked “ it all depends on the way that you see.” He was answering a question from a MBA student about how a system he had created in Sri Lanka based on community, trust and belief in the goodness of humans could work here. Until we “see” differently, it won’t.
A burning light
between the trees
at dusk, the moon's
light shining
just for me, almost
at the cusp
of full, waxing
poetic with her
magnetic pull.
This is so lovely, A. Short, simple, profound and mesmerizing in its glow.
This poem perfectly expresses my moon-gazing thoughts on the way to the mailbox and back last night!
To see that which is not there
or is and has not been seen by others
or might yet still be seen.
We envision the world we wish to live in.
Gardens as colourful as
the people walking down the streets.
Dreams of safety and belonging.
Songs of freedom and memory.
The reminder that we have more than enough.
Being able to have a home
without bloody history as its price
or fear for loved ones.
A queer space A sacred space..
A meeting place of old and new.
Repair, dignity, and accountability itd holding edges together.
What a wonderful poem, Natasha. Your empathy, compassion and care are so evident in each line and in the totality of this splendid poem. Thank you.
This is so sweet!
.
.
I used to have visions
Imaginings that transformed the ordinary
Into something divine.
I'd picture Jesus walking with me,
Dancing with me,
Listening to me sing.
The world was alive with His presence.
I miss that feeling.
I miss that version of me.
I miss the simplicity of it all.
Yet when I see the indigo buntings
Or the wind rippling the cottonwood leaves just so,
I whisper, "Is that you?"
And I allow myself to believe.
This is so beautiful, Lisa. Each line is magical. Your ending is so gentle, kind and embracing: “I whisper, “is that you” and I allow myself to believe.” This is delightful. Thank you! 😊
Thank you so much for your kind words!
My pleasure, Lisa. You are welcome!
Oh yes! Absolutely!
MADRONA MEDICINE
“You may find your dreams
filled with themes of dismemberment,”
she warns, and I think Maureen, my friend,
you’re batshit but here I am, dryad
staring at her own bonewood, struck
open by an accidental axeman.
How sweet of my sapsister
not to say I told you so. My aching
empty heartcage cradles everything
and no one; the Moon, my beloved,
still drowns in the bog. I buried her—
coffin, cross, and candle—
to chase a false elixir. The murdock
crone commands me, cracks me
wide with witchtongue spells;
Descend, she sings, and quit
the clinging fear, the huddling
for warmth at strangers’ fires.
Woodsmoke and wild light
soothe wounded limbs
until it dawns on me that
I’m the one you’re burning.
I wake to remember I am
greenmother, leafdaughter,
sun-drunk berries and peeling bark—
I am made to be danced
by coastal gales.
I reach my gnarled roots
deep into the stars and laugh
to think I feared your earthly flames.
What a vivid poem! I feel this in my bones.
*My aching
empty heartcage cradles everything
and no one…*
———
this is powerful pain…
It is. Thanks for seeing that, Todd.
I can’t ache your ache, but I can try to be present to it with you.
I appreciate that very much. <3
This line has been stuck in my head since I read your poem: “dryad staring at her own bonewood, struck open by an accidental axeman.” The diction, the image, the meaning, the mystery - it has captured me! Beautiful.
Thank you kindly, Grace! 🙏🏼
This is truly remarkable, January. Such vivid and beautiful poetry, and imbued with a magnificent depth. Thank you for sharing!
Thank you, Larry. ☺️🙏🏼
Today's Offering
^
Vision
Once I dreamed of visions,
grand and wide,
expansive and all encompassing,
clear, vivid, explicit guides to my future self,
best trails to move upon, choices to make.
Embarking on vision quests,
meditation journeys and retreats,
prayer immersions, enforced silence,
rave gatherings, drum collectives
political rallies and deep dive speeches.
And books, countless books…
^
The years pile up and still waiting
for the panoramic visions.
Or perhaps the universe is telling me
to look into another closet,
where subtle tones and gentle hues reside,
and invites me to listen,
to see beyond my eyes,
to open to the vision
that has always been waiting to be seen.
First light on a bright spring morning,
Old songs with a different tempo,
broken heart healed from the inside out.
'healed from the inside out' 💜
I love the sweet simplicity of this one, Kaitlin. It's so quiet and lovely.
(Kaitlin, sorry to fiddle, i grabbed your peek in and ran downstairs to the kitchen).
"You are a vision,”
She whispers to his backside,
as he stands at the stove
in his apron
and that goofy chef's hat,
proudly flipping her favorite chocolate chip flapjacks.
Savoring the moment,
she again chooses against
that allergy reveal.
🤣🤣
Very nice, Chuck!
Vision
The gift of sight
to gaze upon
a thing of beauty
to imagine
the delights
that lie ahead
Like looking at your first newborn.
I remember thinking that.
Thank u,
Jane.
So very wonderful, Jane. The beautiful anticipation of joy to come.
Vision
"See what I mean?" she asks,
as she holds a phone
in front of my face.
The screen is shattered
into countless fragments,
though none have broken away
from the device.
I push the "unlock" button
and the phone lights up
like a kalidescope,
diffusing what I assume
was a photograph
into a tapestrial stream
of random colors.
That's when I realize
that the phone is me.
"It's useless!" I exclaim.
"The cracks
completely occlude the image."
She shakes her head
and smiles.
"No, it's not useless.
It's beautiful.
It's art.
It's you!"
The skin
on the back of my neck
began to tingle.
I shivered.
"Me?"
"Yes, it's you;
gorgeous you!"
That's the day I began
to see myself differently;
the day I had a vision
that changed everything.
It's you 😊
This is nice, Todd. You capture that special moment when another helps us see ourselves as we never have before. True Illuminators!
Vision
It can be a Decision
Do we see with our Eyes
Or see with our Hearts
Do we Love with our Eyes
Or Love with our Hearts
Do we use our Vision
To interpret Derision
We search and search
Til we find our third Eye
Now we see clearly
That we were meant to Fly
No more judging
No more division
Seeing All as One
While using Heart Vision
*Heart Vision*
Yes!
Yes!!
Very nice poetry, Jimmy! A marvelous blending of rhyme and cadence that really works well!
Kaitlin, what a beautiful poem and vision. Thank you.
Vivienne (age 8) finally had the time, energy, confidence to work on one:
Vision is imagination
It’s also seeing too
Vision also helps you
When you are wishing too
Vision can be helpful
Only if you dream it
But if you wish, and wish, and wish
Your vision might come true
Lovely! Welcome back, Vivienne!
Nice to have you back, Vivienne, and Brian!
Are there others
Who see as I do?
Watching one thing,
And seeing two?
The thing before me,
As it stands.
And what it evokes,
Minor, or grand.
Specific memories
In high definition,
Somehow linked
To my current vision.
It has always
Been this way -
Crystal clear images
Dance and replay.
Like my dream, age six,
By the river -
Tricycle careening,
And monsters thither.
Or the drive between
Aberdeen and Perth.
That sensation of
Having lost my worth.
There's something
To this visioning -
A wisdom
It is sure to bring.
If I hold it, allow it,
Move with it's flow
My ways of seeing
Can help me to know
Who I am
And where I must go.
I really like this Sarah. Mohammed Unis of Sri Lanka, a Nobel winner in economics, once said to a large gathering of students at the university where I worked “ it all depends on the way that you see.” He was answering a question from a MBA student about how a system he had created in Sri Lanka based on community, trust and belief in the goodness of humans could work here. Until we “see” differently, it won’t.
The edges are in, boundaries framed,
Details examined, connections made,
Successes celebrated, ego tamed.
I find myself sifting
What belongs, and what to set aside.
Obsessively seeking
The right fit - what aligns?
What does it look like, this next chapter of mine?
The vision is incomplete with many options to try.
My life has a missing puzzle piece vibe.
Those without sight
have the greatest
vision.
Standing outside the norm,
the folks with
disabilities, the aged
whose eyes have lost
their luster: they see
with the highest clarity.
They see the whole
truth for what it is.
They observe who's included
and know what we lose
by leaving others out.
Their gaze isn't captured
by the flashy and transient
trends. Unblinded,
they know what is truly
essential.
This is very beautiful, Sarah! Thank you for adding the voice of folk with divergent and differing abilities into this space!
I think he likes her.
Nice little peek.