R i v e r W a l k

The wind is flirting with me.
It is sending viney tendrils to tickle my check
and lifting the hem of my dress
to reveal a bare knee.
It is forcing violets to bow.
To please and entertain,
it has choreographed a subtle dance of leaves in treetops.
To woo, it sprinkles golden pollen in airy swirls all around me.

M E D I T A T I O N

On the other shore, live those no longer counting.

I am raking butter like a
Table-top Zen garden,
And staring into sliced baby radishes, whose
Translucent skin, echo the patterns of Big Bang;
I am 13.7 billion years old.

Promotional video for Tulsa Drone "Medusa Bloom" from the CD "Kill Rites" ©2010 Dry County Recordings. Music by Tulsa Drone Video by E. Grotz

Ode to Spring C O N T I N U E D

" In my narrow room, I throw

Wide the window, and let in
The profound lasciviousness
Of Spring..."

- Li Ch'ing Chao

R i v e r W a l k

It was special this evening
falling
into
sunset,
when bird-wing flaps
echoed as drums
and florescent buds clung,
like aphids,
to tawny twigs.

(and when the lights came on,
i began my ascent home,
passed your flag of surrender
and the bearded pine.)

Ode to Spring

S P R I N G E Q U I N O X

Thank you
for turkey feather secrets beneath wooden crucifixes.
Sacred chamber, sunny floor.
For singing toads harking the new birth,
drips and drizzles and swampy stillness.

For the feeling of digging your toes in the dirt,toddlers learning to climb and cats remembering,For multilingual planting parties,
rainbows, water and squeals of delight. For Jerry coming home,
born 1939 on this ground
in which we plant a future.

For mom
calling home her child from hide n seek
with the ever pleasing,
"supper's ready."

Thank you for S P R I N G !
this day
collapsing into evening!

A W A L K I N T H E R A I N

D A I L Y G R A T I T U D E

Thank you for swirling embers
and roasting red peppers
on an open flame,
For stacked rock labyrinth walks
below chiming winds,
For the gentle shades of winter
exposed in ghost leaves,
clinging.
For trickles and caverns,
hopping lizards,
swimming toads.

TJ had a pet mockingbird

Drawing by Louis Agassiz Fuertes

On a winter river walk, I came upon a scattered pile of mockingbird feathers, evidence of some battle. Whether it survived or not was not immediately evident, but I have my suspicions...

a brief synopsis of a mockingbird totem/symbolism (taken from this animal totem site.)

Mockingbird teaches you the power of song and voice.
It can help you learn new languages and speak them fluently.
People with a Mockingbird totem are known for their talents, rather than their appearance.

It can also help you find your “sacred song” or your life’s purpose
and helps you realize your inner talents.
Mockingbird will help you act on it without fear.

Remember that your inner song is never lost –
if you missed one opportunity, another one will always appear.

Mockingbird also helps you flush out people and events that can hurt you
and allows to see who and what they are.
You hear the true song of others.

Follow your own path. Learn to take what you can and apply
your own creative imagination and intuition to it
and your life will be in harmony.

They teach us how to develop confidence within ourselves, sing out our truth and stand up for what is rightfully ours.

The mockingbird is closely linked to the South...

THE SOUTH - This is the direction that deals with the heart, emotions, innocence, trust and childhood. It is where we are able to see the world through a child's eyes and marvel at the beauty and magic of the world. It is like a mirror, where we are able to undergo self-reflection, viewing our past and how it is affecting our present.

Empathy, Trust, Faith, Inclusion, Love, Emotional wisdom

A dive into ethereal bloodlines reveals the music of undulating emotions. We submerge into renewing waters where we lean into the cosmic aortic pulse. Each beat of our collective heart mixes our life waters, and we experience whole love. In this emotionally-focused quadrant, we softly feel our way into a greater current. We understand unity. We swim easily within the community, following downstream paths of love and least resistance.

You can tell me . . .

upon reminiscing and searching in journals of old, i came upon this poem, written at the shore in August, 2001:

I was just here
thinking of you,
but there is no you in particular.
You are the fighting ocean waves.
You are the dead crab legs.
You are the stench of dead things.
You are the water bottle beside me,
the towel beneath my body.
You are all i smell,
all i hear,
the taste of everything there is
around me now.

I was just here
thinking of you,
and i wanted to tell you;
but how can i tell you
when there is no you in particular?

(Response)

You can tell me
with your infatuated gaze.
You can tell me
with your swinging arms.
You can tell me
with your open ears,
and open eyes.
You can tell me
without telling me
anything at all.

D A I L Y G R A T I T U D E

Thank you
for laundry day.
for hanging linen and white,
open windows, crocus;
for kitten nuzzles,
safflower,
and cardinal totems.

"April, come she will."

Great Blue Heron

Beneath the braided vines
i came upon a water still
and thinking i would see you there
i stood a minute more.

Good thing you never showed
for the wind froze my hands and tongue
and try as i might to free them
i could not salute you.

R i v e r W a l k

There is a certain stillness
when i walk your body
meeting no one,
when i blend seamlessly
with the consciousness of the river,
when i sit in the stomach of a sycamore
and trace deer prints in the sand.

And when i hear the water in this stream
i want to say
Napoli...(breathe)
Terebithia....(breathe)
Chrysanthemum...(breathe)
they roll off my lips
like the river over rocks.