In my pocket

Picked up a stick on the trail this morning. Rolled it around in my hands. 

Used it to scratch an itch on my back. 

Massaged it over a knot in my neck.

Pretended it was a sword in a game of make-believe with a black bear. 

Leaned on it to help me over a narrow running book.

Tossed it for my pup to fetch when he wanted to play fetch.

Rolled it around in my hand

Smooth. 

Bumpy. 

Gentle.

Rugged. 

Left it on the trail

but kept it in my pocket. 

Confusion

Confused Theirs with Mine.

Confused Her with Me.

Confused preach with speak.

Confused tell with ask.

Confused should with might.

Confused always with right now.

Confused control with care.

Confused sick with dis-ease.

Confused worry with love.

Teatime with Fear 

in the wee hours of the morning, I arrive in the kitchen, still half dreaming.

turning the heat on the kettle

I choose a heavy ceramic mug feeling it’s grounding weight in my palms. 

It’s a chamomile kind of morning sunny, bright, and fragrant. 

Or Peppermint… 

Or Sencha… 

As I switch teabags (again)

Looking for perfection

I feel a tug on the hem of my night shirt.

You wandered in while my back was turned.

The padding of your slippers quieting your presence as you snuck up on me. 

“Pick me up”

you say 

“I’m making the tea right now”. 

Your demands becoming louder

your face becoming red-er.

Full linoleum temper tantrum.

If I give you a biscuit, will you be sated? 

Will you need jam? 

Will you need honey?  

Because Right now, my dear, this pantry is closed. 

This is my time for tea.

but you may join me. 

If I could be OK

If I could be OK with myself

as I am now.

He, as he is now. 

She, as she is now.

They, as they are now.

It, as it is now…. 

Then I could be lighter.

Be light.

be healing, 

Be healed,

be freedom,

Be free.

be loving,

Be love.

Be.

The day is perfect for the Be

The winds are always changing. 

The road is right for walking (today)

The road is right for walking (today).

I am here.

You are here. 

I walked in front.

You walked behind.

I walked next to you.

You walked beside me.

I take a half step back.

Letting you 

emerge. 

into your truth

into your light

into your holy wholeness.

I am every just that half step back.

Feel my hand on your back, 

intentionally 

gently. 

The road is right for walking today. 

Dance card 

shall we dance? She asks. 

Spin? 

Twirl? 

Swirl? 

Inviting Me to the dance floor, I take her hand

as I always do. 

The music irresistible. 

Drum beat deeply resounding inside my chest. 

Listening for the melody

rarely the harmony.

Illuminated lighting, highlighting every corner of the floor. 

There are no hiding places. 

Energy

intoxicating beings playfully introducing foot to foot hand to hand. 

Bodies entangling until they are morphing shapes, moving together, shifting through time and space. 

The space starts closing in constricting around me. 

Too loud. 

Too bright. 

Too intimate.

Too intense. 

Releasing her hand I am looking for a dark place to retreat. 

To rest from the chaos

To rest from the raw Ness.

She urges me back onto the dance floor

the breath takes me

the shake shakes me

the moment embodies me.

this is my jam.

shiny objects

soft gaze, she says.

watch without judgment.

Observe.

Keep your focus.

Steady.

One point.

Lower the lids.

Let it get blurry.

Let the outlines merge.

Natural breath, she says. 

In the nose.

Out the mouth.

Control the length.

Keep it easeful.

Listen to the sounds.

The sounds outside.

The sounds inside.

Stillness.

Ah!

Quiet.

Yum.

Softness.

weeeeee.

Becoming expensive.

Becoming hazy.

Becoming trippy.

Becoming.

This must be the place.

Love David Byrne.

Must check tour schedule.

Moment is gone.

That was fleeting.

Come back.

Again.

Soft gaze.

Natural breath.

blah blah blah.

Come back.

Again.

In hale? Or In hell. 

Let.

Exhale. 

Go. 

Hudson seems like a cool town. 

Do I know a realtor here? 

Should I skip tomorrow’s session and house hunt? 

Fuuuuuck! 

Moment Is gone.

It was fleeting.

Come back. 

Again.

Release the shoulders.

Relax the jaw.

Watch the trees out the window. 

Inhale 1..2..3. 

Exhale 1..2..3. 

Softening. 

Deepening. 

Quieting.

Here. 

Now. 

Red Robin bolts from her nest. 

Shiny objects live in Hudson too. 

this, aching in my hands

this aching in my hands 

fingers splayed, extended for more.

reaching.

joints tightly coiled.

determined.

nails bitten to the cuticle, the remnants of the blood of worry and anguish.

set.

palms, numb to the touch, void of color.

unchangeable.

bones, shifting in new directions, like the branches of an aging Birch.

gripping.

this aching in my hands.

this, ringing in my ears…..