Posted in grief

Grace intervenes…

There’s a sadness that lives
inside me,
in unspoken words,
with no remedy
no antidote
no gentle return…

to a hoped for normality
of lucid breath,
there’s no glory in the cruelty
of unexpected death…

Even happy events
won’t erase the pain,
sometimes grief’s moods
cannot be explained…

And life goes on without me
like an ever-flowing stream,
and I hold onto those moments,
where grace intervenes…

though the longing remains constant,
in the quietness of my mind,
needing a world that’s kind…


Posted in prayer

Where grace is…make your bed!

“I wish I could show you when you are lonely or in darkness
the astonishing light of your own being.”
― Hafiz of Shiraz

Let life be much more than this,
let your feet be an abiding kiss,
on earthen grounds and tranquil lakes,
let none of this
be a mistake…

As the brewery
of your hopes and dreams,
turns the skies
into joyful beams,
so that light presses
into your form,
giving you strength to weather the storms…

and read love letters
at your door,
chalk them up to earth’s encore,
as leaves adore to dance for you,
on windy days
when you’re feeling blue…

goose bumps
will delight your skin,
as you bravely confront prevailing winds…

that turn the tides with augurs of dread,
where grace is…
make your bed!

And lie on shores with a passionate quest,
to welcome love
as your constant guest…


Posted in Beauty


the glory of heaven
came over me,
beneath opaline skies,
and cyan forms
while I was
being synthesized,
to a fluid ocean
and sands
that quietly diffuse,
as the breath
of angels
held up
wondrous hues…
and whimsical feelings
of an ambient design,
though in my own
I forgot
the pace of time… 


Posted in Beauty

Speak to beauty…

Speak to beauty,
speak to it with words,
fuse with its splendor,
give it your concerns…
Imbibe the nectar
of thankfulness,
be a broadcaster of
the miraculous…
Hold a space
for divine presence,
as a lover,
of nature’s essence…
magical skies
will inform your sight,
as glory
puts the world to right…


Posted in catharsis

Garden party…

shadow dancers
kept me company,
thoughts were flying high,
and the birds reminded me of a courageous sky…

tea with sympathy was served all day,
as color infused with sympathetic shade…

and while weary undertakers carried away my grief,
deaf ears appointed me
to redefine belief…
lost for words in a faithless world,
the sound of laughter could not be heard…

separation sought to find me, but I’m connected to all that is
in gardens of confession,
darkness can’t exist…

the stones were praising as I read the leaves,
though it’s always a short walk back to grief…

dreams must be spoken,
as they lie in beds of despair,
I tried to rescue them,
but they’ve become garbled prayers…

I stared into the numbness
of my wasted breath,
feeling worthless
I put shame to death…

The fabric of my life may look
and ruined
but the weaver has embroidered it
with light-filled jewels…

And when the party was over
I planted the pain,
letting it be drenched in healing rain…