Not Again

private sudden loss leads to processing of reality
through the night
every nightmare new dream losses
echo the first
a resistance to the loss pushes back

not again
not another one
so exhausted of mourning

heart at half mast

brain figets with what might have been
as if this problem can be solved
as if when I find a solution
my baby will still be walking the earth

mass sudden loss leads to processing of reality
through social media

with every waking nightmare
new losses

a resistance to change pushes back

not again
not another one
so exhausted of mourning

may forget to lower flag to half mast

working together
we figit with what might have been
as if when we find a solution
our babies will still be walking the earth

gearing up for another nightmare
most assured to repeat itself
processing the reality

so exhausted of mourning

Pedigree

every generation
must be broken anew
mares under wips
foals taught fear
scurrying around the circle
of her foremothers

every generation
learning their history
from another’s point of view
where she is the enemy
where she needs to be tamed
where a wild heart could
doom her to die or be ostracized

every generation
seeking those that break their restraints
those that understand
glass ceilings are made to be broken
not mares

mares become nightmares
to those in the way of progress

To: Moira an apology

Pssst
listen to my voice
as I hoist an apology
about the choice made
to foist upon you an alias
so close to the boil of all languages from the atlas

I toiled with which title
would loiter whilst searching amongst
boisterous investment choices

triest I might, cloistered
in a tryst with name books
passing over Roy and Christ and all boy titles
for the lion of a nombre
I could choose no other cyst to baptize you with

wilst you wear it with poise
or with noise
or with joys

should you flush the broil down the toilet

NOYCE
I think you get the joist supporting the gist
of this misty apology

sorry to disappoint

I’m forever lamenting the similarity
of Moira to moist

Who Am I to You?

call me not a seeker
call me a finder

lost socks
broken jewelry clasps
runaway beads

call me not a destroyer
call me a healer

broken hearts
misplaced anger
unhealthy self-image

call me not a wanderer
call me a traveller

distant lands
future friends
everywhere a home

call me not a seeker
call me a finder

questions unspoken
answers unknown
connections unseen

Affirming

in preschool
between chapel time songs
This Little Light of Mine
and Jesus Loves the Little Children
an invitation to invite Jesus into my heart

daily
I raised my four-year-old hand
yes

at some point I stopped raising my hand
wondering why no one told me I could stop

fast forward to mommyhood
wifehood
working full-timehood
second marriagehood
studying divine truthhood
from all over the worldhood

back to affirming daily
no, more often than daily
more often than hourly
minutely
continually

the Son points to the Father / Mother
and to the Kingdom

following this pointing
I see Home

Last Step

are we there yet
the brain asks the heart
who drives them to freedom

are we there yet
the brain figets with worries and fears
as the heart balances on a cushion

are we there yet
the brain searches for roadmaps
into the maze

yes and no
the heart replies
journeying in near silence

yes and no
because we’ve already arrived
but not completely

yes and no
because the veil is still here
which we will use to polish the mirror

the sooner we shush
the sooner we balance
the sooner we will see

the last step

Jiminy

crackling over the fire
spread on a kabob
Mr Jiminy Cricket roasts

drizzled in chocolate
or sprinkled with ranch powder
he is delicious
crunchy
filling

absorbing cricket wisdom
banishes angels and demons from shoulders
Jiminy now speaks through these lips
and sways with these hips

no longer worried and whiney
at rest in the wisdom

ethics struggle outside in
wiggle going down
then rest inside out

Beauty Amid Difficulty

focus on the beauty
in the midst of anger fear sadness anxiety

see the snowflake twinkles
see the branches of frost splitting into six arms
see how this one is different from that one
see how the icicles drip in rows like shark teeth

the attention trains the heart
beauty will soften it
until there is no more need for fear

see how this day is unlike any other
look around and take note while it’s here

write about your day in the snow
your record of hardships and wrongdoings
like icicles in snowmounds
ready to soften into water
in just the right moment

Remodel

forget about redecorating
don’t put in the skylight

tear it down
and let the whole sky in

put away the paint
the screwdriver
the sledgehammer
and roll out the dumpster

drop the ruler used to measure yourself
against others

like a drop-cloth
it will flutter away by itself
once you let go

stand on the internal spot
more level than skill can create

more bright than Sun can illuminate
more restful than sleep can hibernate

exchange house for borderless bounty

Mindfulness Bell

show me where my buttons are
that I may steep them in stillness
soak them in the hot water whistle
in the late night kitchen

set all my alarms to excitement
that I may soothe them in silence
rock and relax the adrenaline
assuring absence of tigers

remind me there is work still undone
rough edges crying for sand paper
sticky spots of ego and pride
affiliations with labels

remind me to let go of everything
including my favorites
including my peeve pets
because anything I can let go
wasn’t me anyhow

becoming purity requires bells of mindfulness
bells set off by exits through security doors
bells set off by smoking oven
set off by finding my sore spots
left by another
bells ringing in each hour
by the church on the corner

bells inviting me to just be