girl with baby's breath in her long curly hair

if divine love

if divine love were water

it would be ice – impenetrably chilling

rattling your bones

cooling parched travellers

providing Arctic guidance to polar bears

solid is such love

floating in your filling cup

if divine love were water

it would be that which fills your body

your most ubiquitous possession

the fluid that moves inner universes

holding organs within their orbit

suspending your heart in rivers

cradling the unborn in a pond

if divine love were water

it would be bubbles that erupt in your kettle

causing steamy screams in preparation 

for tea in the morning 

for rice by midday

for your evening bath by candlelight

seas of petals and oils and salts and skins

if divine love were water

it would pacify you 

indulge you

heal you

cool you

awe you

fill you

girl smiling on a haystack


I said I’d be up early today. I got up late and dozed in and out and got up even later. I said I wouldn’t eat late… but I definitely had a cookie close to midnight. I said I’d develop a writing practice – everyday, write for 30 minutes. I have yet to start. I said I’d spend more time in devotion, in ceremony with my Beloved. I have yet to craft the time. I said I’d workout, move my body, lighten its density. I have yet to start… re-start? I have said many things, many, many things: do more of this, less of that, create more this, spend more time with that. So many intentions. But here I am at 7:30 am knowing the only thing I have time for is a quick morning page, another quick meditation, a quick card pull… I’d like to slow down. Create my own vacuum, allow myself the grace to be in presence, where all the doing feeds my being. Where can I start?

f o r g i v e n e s s

Perhaps now it is time to view all my lovely intentions as less of correcting errors and flaws, and more of perfecting a masterpiece.

girl in a furry-looking hood

2021: f r e e

2021 words: flow, refinement

guiding affirmation: I free up that which is perfect within me

trees in gibbs garden

Who Watches the Trees? a limerick

There was a young man who said, “God

Must think it exceedingly odd,

If He finds that this tree

Continues to be

When there’s no one around in the Quad.”

Dear Sir, 

Your astonishment’s odd.

I am always about in the Quad.

And that’s why the tree 

Will continue to be

Since observed by

Yours faithfully,


freely, I love myself ♥️


desiderata i: light

I want to be light

Light like a hummingbird

Poised in the air

Dancing feathers before

An open iris 



Light like the feathers that leave

Its bijou body and float through the sky

To graze dewy grounds


Light like the rays of sunbeams 

That escape through its wings

Casting shadows in its wake

Emitting rays and shadows

And rays and shadows

And rays and shadows

There is no question of presence

There is no question of this divinity

It is where it is

And it is held and free 

And purposeful and unengaged

And certain and knowing

Of spirit 

Of birthright

Of place

Of necessity

Of responsibility 

Of love

So when I say I want to be light

Perhaps I already 


(photo credit: unknown)

every teardrop softens

every teardrop softens you

despite the weight of emotion

that accompanies them

so cry, baby, cry

let your own weight cradle you into tenderness

life carries with it a great many paradoxes

yours is to feel and experience

it is a privilege even the angels

are jealous of

may you | a poem

may your voice hover

steadily as your lips form

and tongue widen

to pray

may your skin be palpable

so your dense humanness

becomes your flotation

may you ascend

as you become your own


avian gods before dawn

darkness lingers outside

and the cacophony of chorus commences

before dawn cracks

the avian gods

hurl vocal chantings

one to another –

gliding from pole line to tree branch

calling and cajoling

losing themselves

into the essence

of a slowly awakening earth