Clouded Bubbles

Color bathes itself in a sky of blue satiny water WAITING for
the gazer to dip into her puffy clouded bubbles.



Like a race horse
set in ‘the gate,’
I awaited the
sound of the bell.

There it was—
off I went
but, I was not
in a race.

I was so sure footed…
my hooves
kicking up the ground
beneath me.

I was beyond
a trot…
a gallop…
it was almost as if I were
a pace
so fast

I began to
notice I was ‘missing’

rushing here—
trying to get this done
or the next task

By the end of the day
I stumbled—

Yes, so unnaturally
I lay broken—
enough to ‘feel’
the very fibers in
my being crying out

I gathered myself ‘enough’
to recognize the
stumbling in
my mind

the sounds, the noises, the
distractions—all the
vain lures wearing down,
perplexing my soul.

So hard I stumbled in my
mind until a silent
moment ‘engulfed’ the
toxicity of endless
superficial longings.

A tender swoosh of wind
ruffled my mane
and I could ‘see’ again
the road before me.


If ‘gravity’ should one day fail you…consider it a gift—
you’ve finally let-go of everything holding you down.

Upside Down

Upside Down

That is exactly
what you have done…

Will ‘anything’ ever be
right side up again?
This I doubt!

You pushed me ‘down’
into the soil…
replanted my B-ing—

In the darkness…
like a ‘weed’
I began to stretch,
trusting only
what you give me.

You said, “Trust me.”
I let go of my ideas
and found myself breaking
through the crust of
the earth.

Bathed in your sun…
Nourished by the rains…
Frozen by winter’s blast…
Reborn in the chaos of
Spring’s re-creation…

I grow—freely…
simply ‘within’ the gift of your

A weed—indeed.
Spreading across
a wild, daunting
scape of land
stretching for endless miles

seen only by those
whose hearts
lie open.

Those willing to
walk a path without
the need for accolades,
recognition, prestige—

Those saying,
“I need less and less and less—
nothing more.”

The garden filled
with plenty—
Why tarry in a
false field of
bouquets that
do not last.

Shadow land

Shadow land…why, why do we try to add colors
to the shading of your brilliant black and white hues?

The Veil

The Veil

It’s gone—
it’s been torn in two.

Stop trying to mend
or stitch it back together.

Don’t attempt
to suspend it.

Down, down…its been removed.
Look, look at your naked self.
Remove the veil—
it can be ‘seen’ through anyway.

The only one not ‘seeing’
is YOU…

You see in others
the you that you pretend you’re not.

The veil’s gone—
see your shadows…
try making friends.

You may even start holding hands.


The Way~~~anything BUT narrow.
And, we are ONE on this collective path.



I’ve disappointed many
persons in my lifetime…
I’m certain I’ll
disappoint a few more.

NOT by conscious choice—
certainly not
…in fact, my entire being
has held the weight of
the voices letting me know
or not know by silencing
themselves from my world.

For those moments
I ask forgiveness—it was
all I had left.

Beaten—not by anyone else
BUT by me…I cried
and the Source of Life
pulled me to a place where
ONLY “we” were together.

Without words
I was held—
realizing “I” was allowing
the disappointments to erase
my goodness.

Is this a confession?
Hell, yes…
I vanished downward AND
found me—
found the me who is, was, and
always will BE—a creation
that moves, breathes and in my
lack of perfection, I
know NOW how to rise.

I don’t want what has
been to go away—
Still, I do not wish
to be seeped in it.

Like a burning flame—
The fire in my heart…
warm and tender.

I’ll share my embers from
time to time.
But, right now—
Yes, in this moment…
I sit ‘ALONE’—
Yet, NOT by myself, but
in this impregnable warmth.


In American Culture I would define SUCCESS=
being who it is you ARE and nothing MORE.



In a quiet room
she sits beside
her mother—
the last breath
shatters the silence
and she holds the
hand that once
held hers.

A man touches a
soft cloth to
his Beloved’s forehead.
Sixty-six years of
wedded bliss…
his wrinkled chin
touches her cheek.
He remembers their first
“I do” and cannot
imagine being anywhere
else in this moment.

A child
crippled from birth—
the parents take turns
and often work together
caring for their
The young one lets out
an utterance that no one
Still, the couple
embraces for they ‘hear’
the words.

You ask your purpose in life?
So many ‘seek’ to make
their mark…
To write their stories on the
pages of History…
To leave their works in
prestigious galleries…
To build their bank accounts
while never learning to breathe.

Find your purpose…
search your heart.
May you discover
it has ONLY been to Love.

(Dedicated to Mikey 1917-2005)


Look, look…it had to break.
Now you know the heart truly exists.

Right Now—Inches Away

Right Now—Inches Away
(Inspired under the wise tutelage of June Gould, Poet/Teacher,
Skidmore College 2014/

Since you asked, I will answer you…
You wear a collar and you think it gives
you permission to break open TRUTHS—

I DON’T want your collar and you’ll never
imprison this soul from breathing in
‘Creation’s Truths.’

You wear dresses…come, come now—look in the
mirror—Oh, I see, you call it a HABIT…
Keep your HABIT, but funny, when I put it on
you say it’s NOT the right dress for me…
WAIT, it fits—BUT, I don’t wish to wear
it AND I’m not going to put on those
‘right’ kind of dresses so that, you know,
I’ll then fit in—that’s what you’d like.


You do not even wish to HEAR who I AM—
Pardon me?  You’re asking another question…
BUT, did you hear me?

I’m trying to answer you.  But, you’re only
playing a charade as if you care…
YOU say women need to take more active roles.

HERE I AM—see me?
Oh, you do and that is why you’re going onto
the next question.

What I mean to say is…
You still see yourself as the keeper of
the keys…you’re the one with the collar
and it’s getting tighter and tighter.
You’re gasping for air and you could
UNLOCK your own deceit,
your self absorbed rules—
and start celebrating around a
circular table…
Only smooth curves—
an endless flow.

She who is can be found.
YOU CAN no longer hold her back.
She is ALIVE. She breathes—she dwells
in all.  Yes, You, too…

Your porcelain Mary—she’s crumbling
and Her pieces are alive…

In this time of chaos—
amidst the rubble…


Never will you bind her.
She is the Mother.
She hears Her children’s cry.
She who is

Right NOW—inches away.