neptune's garden

the morning mist reveals the spiders' homes,
around every bend another
landscape of illuminated webs-
perfect drops of dew
strung along perfect lines,
like so many little pearls of light.
i smell the water
before any other sense
tells me it's there,
i take a deep breath, and sigh
that salty smell stirs
something in me
even here, at the
brackish back-end of the bay.
the grebes dive and resurface
again and again,
catching their morning meal
feeding their children,
the sound of their call out across
the water
is hauntingly wild
for such a paved little trail.

the bay stretches out and
blends in the mist, the
grey of the sky-
there is no horizon line
only light reflecting light
and I
turn to walk back into the bushes
the wet high grass,
my silly familiar friend
stops short and pounces,
bounces
back up along the trail-
i am thankful for this ridiculous
companion of mine,
who makes my laughter ring
like a pealing of bells
in the stillness of the
morning air.
he jumps for no other reason
but joy
and plays slip n'slide games
down the gently sloping inclines,
making me shake my head,
and smile.

One of my favorites, by one of my favorites...

Wild Geese


You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

-Mary Oliver

let's move

i am drumming
up
positivity
and power
hopefully wondering
what the universe
has in store
for me
now
this shifting
this movement
that is shaking me to my core
turning over compost piles
finding rich soil there
so
fertile

i am calling
up images of self
unimagined
conjuring creativity
something more
free
a body that moves with pain
a mouth full of laughter
a soul unveiling its wings
i am bigger
than i ever
dreamed
before
there is nothing
more
powerful
than what i've found
living between my legs
between my belly and spine
it starting
to curve
to roll
to unwind
go ahead
ask me
i dare

who is this woman

remember?
the one with wind in her hair
that fire dancing in
her eyes
remember?

she's still in there
and she is clawing
her
way
out
digging down
opening up
unraveling herself
from sleepy-eyed-stony-slumber
surprising her habits
and waking her nightmares
drumming
pounding
shouting
howling
singing
dancing
floating
growling
beating
pulsing
flowing
here,
here,
here.

So, maybe

things aren't always as extreme as
i feel them to be
or as dire as
i percieve.

and, maybe
there is temperance to be found
in a nescafe sit-down round
something wet and little
and shaking
whimpers under the table
while
something old and stalking
creaks down the hallway past
closed doors
or, maybe
cracked open, an inch
for a glipmse
a glance
and, maybe
eavesdropping is almost like
the first step
to participating
in conversations you don't know how to have.
one day
you'll be brave enough
to join in,
maybe.