Category: poetry

queen looking upwards

remember the why

remember the why


it seems

you’re spending a lot of time 

convincing yourself of


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

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,



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


how did they do it – the ancient mystics?

for every breath i breathe

is pregnant with gratitude

and its spaces full of joy

now i get why they desired to live

in caves

light kisses her

let’s imagine it

that light kisses both her cheeks

both Sun and the Moon

mirrors essenes

a small prayer: mirrors

who are your mirrors?

may they be kind in their reflection.

may they amplify your glow.

may they hold space for you.