We let these subtle things go,

the nagging little thoughts that shroud

the darkening of the soul

through peace

we see the openings between the lines

slipping loose we are unharnessed to the words

and plucking about in the meadows of life

we gather the sweetest as we move through.

We watch the scenery unfold

as we get about our moments in our heart centered place

moving through space,

each second and memory different and of itself,

we accept which is good and true

to simply let go the rest,

like seeds blowing in the winds

we allow them to take space and root

somewhere beyond where our footprints will not grace,

knowing that which we see is just that,

our interpretation based on the history

which we have created within

and we can be set free to wander the winds

and the mountains to meadows

finding beauty and peace

waiting somewhere for us

fertile ground between ocean to ocean,

we set our sights on the skies

wishing on stars that we know always come through,

guiding us to our rightful space,

gathering us loosely like wildflowers

the good seed replanted in time

to produce the beauty of the universe

and the lingering satisfaction

of a new day of life we create

with love and understanding,

we run to take flight, to soar

and to glide effortlessly

through worlds of truth.


Untethered we come undone

spiral strings of a thousand colored thoughts

passing into a beautiful  pile

something new created from a mind

unwound/unbound and set free.

An image drifts in

as if through the open window in a storm

blowing/bouncing about the walls

like tiny bubbles floating as I pluck each one out

the thin air allows it to hang

for just a moment

before it disappears.

I think of the scent of lemon zest

or perhaps orange and I feel the emotion

settle like dust to the floor,

where is it these random ideas form

as I follow the string from beginning to knot

I find myself transfixed on the shades and hues

of life seen through the eyes

of a mere girl left pondering

what was it that got away in the second that passed

and where is the meaning

in a wayward scent imagined.

How deep the mind can delve

when let loose to find its path

and the day still blossoming before me

I know the swings and shifts

as I tug gently on the string

will only lead me to the hanging end

where I can casually ball it back up,

tucking it away for a creative day

to throw it out there,

let it unfurl

and begin again.

A path to mind

Carried forward
Feet lightly touch each place
Meant to hold
This journeys steps
Swaying hands hold loose
The rail to guide
Cool winds blow
Whispering the secrets of sages
Tales of ancients
Invisible journal holds the secrets
Of the path before you
Carried forward
Silence fills the mind
Eyes rest on calm greens
Mist in the air
As earth claims her rightful place
We move on endlessly
Effortlessly as we take each step
Where each foot is meant
To lightly touch down
On a mud and soil rich
With decay
With life
Waiting to be found
Journey to the infinite
Path to spirit
Whispers to the soul.

Shadow hunt

What goes on in there
The mind in darkness
Perhaps not doing much
Of anything at all
Upstairs where the cobwebs linger
The birds and bats
In the belfry
Moving about
Doing their thing
As such things tend to do.
You gaze outward at the glass
That stops the forward movement
Looking about wondering where
Is the escape route,
Before the rains
These panes stood open
But now battened tight against the wind
Against the escape
Of the hunter
And the hunted move about
Without a care
Just another day
Dark shadows cast no spell
Settling in to wait,
Ready in the image of calm
Still water with no ripples
Yet still moving
In the depths of the mind.

Maybe perhaps the thoughts of our serial killer cat. Stealthy and quick…waiting.

Lost not found

Somewhere out there
Maybe upon my pillow
Maybe on the floor
Beside the bed,
In the yard where I ran
Screaming for the wayward hounds?
Maybe on the counter
Next to the coffee I am sure now cold,
Maybe on the dashboard
Or windshield where I did not see
So clearly until I almost pulled out
In front of that speedy little black car.
Maybe it is sitting with the Fawn I almost hit
As it merrily crossed the road as mother watched,
That is one lucky little one.
Maybe it is under the double lid I pondered
When I bought a cup but could not
Get a full sip, I looked there
As I pulled off the lid and spilled
Coffee on the morning meeting table
But nope, not there either.
Maybe it is in the parking lot,
When I tripped and almost fell
Peeked out the window to see
Nothing there either.
Maybe it is locked in my computer
That decided to hide it from me,
Laying next to the file lost in space,
It is a big universe after all….
I don’t know where it could be,
Could you please help me,
And if you see it wandering
Or running through meadows,
Tell it to come home soon.

Trifle dreams

Silky layers
Cotton sheets
Rain falls beyond
Dreams illusion
Little ’bout this and that
As whole taken
Moving from light to deep
Climbing through
The voices the scene
One to the other
Sleep escalator
Up up to surface
At a new station,
Memory treasures
trapped in clear
Glass of mind
To remember
To understand
To spoon each morsel
With relish
Dreams of mud
Bulbous clouds
Bits of desire,
Spooning rescue
Saved by love.