I frequently find myself abashed by the comparative privilege of my life, as the flowers bloom for an array of meticulous insects, and our children delight in the knowledge and tastes of garden food. The glorious clouds sear with their beauty, as my human heart strives to truly see and appreciate the vast gift of…
Tag: poetry
Every individual action marks the culmination of choices made by the masses.
Each time I throw something in the garbage, particularly plastic wrappings, my heart sinks with dismay and guilt. So I wrote poem about it: aching reproach of silenced heart as hands release another piece of refuse newly named into eternity contained by plastic bags cinched so nothing disintegrates to grow the weighted piles with…
Better to openly appreciate that which fires up the soul, than to smother the sparks of glory.
I an happy to report that it is indeed possible to read an Emily Dickinson poem to young children and retain their full interest and appreciation. I think it is a matter of loving the poem, trusting that the audience can appreciate nuance and genius, and committing fully to the performance aspect of reading aloud….
A habitually happy face can end up functioning as an unsociable mask.
I recently had a visceral epiphany about my tendency to compose my face into a default smile. It is an autopilot expression the habit of which dates far back to my teenage years, wherein I picked up the affectation of dimpling from a book, and most likely utilized the charm as a preventative to…
Hardness of heart is an abomination to the cultivation of soul.
We are moving house soon. In the midst of packing and envisioned arrangements, the privilege of such preoccupations takes my breath away. Often, the mundane attending to everyday tasks of family life will unexpectedly elicit a sweeping sense of heartbreak when consciousness seizes upon the fact and fates of the many families and children in…
Idealism is the surprisingly steely counterpoint to unflinching rationality.
As even a very occasional reader “staying for the prose” would quickly gather, my thoughts borderline obsessively turn to the great faith and hope I place in the prospect of humanity deciding en masse to tend to the healing of the earth by laying claim to our intended role as stewards of the cycles of…
When the pattern of progress requires dehumanization, it could be disrupted through basic actions of human survival.
I was thinking the other day about the Badlands being appointed as reservation land, and how the tribes were sent there to reside because the place appeared devoid of most discernible life and was therefore deemed suitably worthless. Traditionally sacred and suited to prayer and meditation, those rocks were not sites for the bodily sustenance…
Because we are irrevocably flesh and blood, our contents orient toward life and growth, though surrounded by the contrary.
I love it when people come to the conclusion that our one true hope is to wholly and deliberately reclaim our reliance upon the planet. Spread seeds, rehabilitate concrete. Take it upon ourselves as the massive collective able to turn attention and hands to enact the revitalization of roots and rivers and air by planting planting…
Death is always near enough to assist and insist upon our amazed awareness of life.
I propose there’s nothing quite like having children to really underscore the intense vagaries of consciousness linked to our general mortality. Over the past 24 hours, I first remained sleeplessly intent upon the small gurglings of my son’s struggling breaths, and then had to take my brain in firm hand to move beyond the morbid what-ifs…
It is treacherous to envision a better future, when the past remains unrectified.
Tomorrow is the 10 year anniversary of my mother’s death. It was not peaceful. Neglected by a system devoid of mercy, with the vulnerable as prey. Her family instructed not to speak of it. Any plan ever since has been contingent on coming to terms with the unspeakable. I observe the continuing wound with dismay….
Insight/Outfit of the Day 