Glorious design

“I remember feeling that pieces of me were scattered around the world; I belonged to her, Mother Earth.”
― Raquel Cepeda, Bird of Paradise: How I Became Latina

bristling grasslands

On bristling grasslands
where worship is heard,
radiant auras
of light
touch the earth.

On my knees
the meaning
of life,
I sensed
the tempo
of her glorious design…




Granny holidayed in St Germaine,
dined on caviar
and pink champagne,
loved the fizz of lemonade,
always took the subway train!
She came from Blackpool
where it rains,
I never,
heard her complain.
She loved to bake quiche Lorraine,
how she adored to entertain.
Evening Soirees
with Mary-Jane,
it really was a guessing game!
I remember when
we played charades,
at the neighbors,
down the lane.
Granny dressed
in La Fontaine,
from strong spirits, she did abstain.
I’d really love
to see her again
I guess she’s riding the celestial plane……..

A dedication…

This is a dedication to friends who have touched my life deeply…

“Let us be grateful to the people who make us happy; they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom.”― Marcel Proust

groundless abstractions

Bobbing grasses in the fields,
softly speaking,
my breath yields,
to groundless abstractions of the air
brave refractions
that pried open
closed minds
and left vain regret behind…

to swim forever in cosmic seas,
where every tribe and tongue is free
and grace-filled blessings are all around,
where mercy’s found.

forgiveness in the atmosphere,
peace and love everywhere…

I’ve lost some friends along the way,
it’s just a pity they couldn’t stay
but pastures on the other side,
with visions

I’ve learned to set aside my dreams,
to free flow
with living streams,
and abide by nature’s
and the vastness of each soul’s expanse…


Woodland goddess

“And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.”
― Roald Dahl

woodland goddess

With outstretched arms she stroked the heavens,
in flurries of untold blessings.

Beneath her awnings of shady solace,
a quietly
woodland goddess…

…where magic flickered
in her midst
with winsome moves she gently kissed,
the many suitors
who sought her shade,
under emerald canopies
they played…

in nonchalant moods of such delight,
she smiled
and swayed
from unruffled heights…


The true ease of myself

“The Rose” by Theodore Roethke (1908-1963)
Near this rose, in this grove of sun-parched, wind-warped madronas,
Among the half-dead trees, I came upon
the true ease of myself,

As if another man appeared out of
the depths of my being,

And I stood outside myself,
Beyond becoming and perishing,
A something wholly other,
As if I swayed out on the wildest wave alive,
And yet was still.
And I rejoiced in being what I was

lily of the valley

Stepping backward in surprise
I see
reflective radiance all around me,
and within.

I can touch so deeply now,
feel so fully,
breathe so watchfully,
within knowing

I have been to
secret places
of stillness,
petal soft
shimmering vistas,
the true ease of myself
not in attachments
or appearances,
or needs to impress.

For when I’m uncomfortable in my own skin
around you,
I will shed,
and underneath the tender parts
I smart,
because I desire
to relinquish
duplicitous belief.

For now,
I am in harmony with all that is,
an earth symphony…
the lily of the valley
and pirouetting
in my own loveliness,
unblemished by temporal things,
I call out to you,
as you dart between my graceful finery,
to sup on my ambrosia.

You have tutored me
in the fine art of gratitude,
by gravity
or condemnation,
as you fly
and gather
and settle upon
my most exquisite flower.

You who are just as lovely as I,
you reach into my belonging,
our souls awash
with kindness
and compassion.
We are augurs of the divine,
not bound by structure
or affluence,
freed from intransigent belief,
just coalescing with the simplicity of being,
of loving
of praising,
alive in our own eternal essence…