01 Mar, 2020

Natural is the New Perfect

01 Mar, 2020

I wrote this post as an open letter to my community in Maine: Dear friends and neighbors. As our winter-weary hearts turn toward the warmth and rebirth of spring, I extend what I hope is a compelling invitation – to consider “natural is the new perfect” on your lawn...

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03 Feb, 2020

Rest

03 Feb, 2020

Winter. The still time. Sometimes I get nudgy habituated to movement and action when what is called for is non-doing and rest. I tremble and plead for answers to my questions put as demands: Tell me, show me, send me a sign. When what is called for is rest....

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04 Apr, 2016

Rain, Cherished Rain

04 Apr, 2016

Rain falls. Spring rains, beneficent rains. And I intend to be grateful and thankful, even with their raw, 30 degree backdrop. I recall my friend, Anne’s meditative journey/dream to Rain. In it, Rain – a being; Rain like a character in Earth’s novel. And she – for surely Rain must...

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10 Mar, 2016

Only One Day

10 Mar, 2016

There is only one day.
The first day.
To be alive on the first
markedly balmy day of the new
year is to feel
a beckoning like instinct
a call to the woods or the seashore.
Invisible hand extends – one finger
curled, motioning.

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07 Jan, 2016

True Note

07 Jan, 2016

To which sounds
shall my hardened ears direct
their awareness?

Perhaps the single – no,
repeated – scream of a broad-winged
hawk circling
overhead, lost
from view through clutters of barren
branches or the pleasant
chatter of nearby chickadees.

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01 Sep, 2015

How Then Shall We Live?

01 Sep, 2015

This lump in my throat is my heart crying. These tears that fall silently and then not-so-silently are insufficient motions for an inexpressible grief: One more White Rhino has been slaughtered for its horn made from keratin – the same stuff as my finger nails; another female and her...

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15 Apr, 2015

To My Fellow Pilgrims

15 Apr, 2015

This is what I will tell you: Never again carry an itinerary.
Okay, have a landing pad and a departure pad
as anchors if you must.
But that is all.
Allow each moment to inform the next.
Nowhere to go; no place to be, except
right here
for as long as you decide.

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02 Apr, 2015

April in Connemara

02 Apr, 2015

On a day when winds are raw, rains insist
on their priority,
and fog is playing stingy
with the view
don’t climb Diamond Hill in some
stubborn display of endurance.
No panorama rewards your foolishness.

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01 Apr, 2015

At the Fairy Ring

01 Apr, 2015

I like to imagine
the carver's desecration halted
mid-letter --
E C \
(was it to be a 'V' or a 'W'?)
by the Fairy Queen herself
outrage propelling her through
the veil to our
dense air.

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02 Feb, 2015

STUDENT

02 Feb, 2015

And I stopped,
heart hammering from exertion
snow shoes resting in deep wells of powder
wind gust rustling the ample boughs
of a Hemlock nearby --
accumulations releasing in a mellifluous whoosh.
A show shoe path through the woods of Maine
And I heard, Are you with us?

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