Friday, May 25, 2007

So new, it just saw ink this afternoon...

Airing out

We are airing out; a people of pale
arms, fed through drivers’ side windows.

And like our flesh, the earth remembers heat.
Eats it. Soaks its toes. Stores it for breakfast.

While the sun cleans out our ears:
a birdy conversation in answer to the trees,
the breeze climbing the rise like a man,
a new green louder than death.

It’s spring and I want to catch fever,
meet my poison and swallow my fear.

It’s spring and I’ll race you to the hill
where this laughter already passes
and our souls already stand.

This actually began as a re-write that then worked in about three old haikus from last spring. Still a bit rough, so could use feedback!

Sunday, May 13, 2007

words that sun and leaves bring...

Brother David and I just donned the walking shoes and struck out for downtown - where I write now from the library. It has to be one of the most perfect weather days we've had yet this spring.

My straw hat tied to by back and sunscreen on my shoulders - Lord, help me if I don't feel like anything is possible.

Today I had the blessing of being in worship with two of my dear church families... and I still feel so full after being with them. A call to women on this Mothers' Day: Dear sisters, we are so beautiful when we know we are strong! Don't let anyone tell you that you have to hide your intelligence, your voice, your ability to see deep. Dear spirit mothers and fathers, speak to the young women in your lives, tell them how they are beautiful, how they are strong. We need you.

All dear ones, remember spring. Remember the coming alive that happens. Remember to wonder over it.