Contrasts – small stone Jan 22

‘oh, god’ says one, shaking with fear
‘oh, yay’ says the other, jumping with excitement.
Thunder thunders, hail hammers, wind wails
blue has turned to black
on a wintry summers’ day.
The sunflower stands and stares,
oblivious to it all.

Sunflower – Part II – small stone Jan 21

I woke up to you,
transformed by the alchemy of night
that twisted and turned you,
laid you flat, splayed open
with nothing left to hide.
All along I thought it was the light
that held the magic, the power
but you have shown me
that to be deepened and darkened,
embraced by Hekate, that lunar spirit,
goddess of night,
is what it truly takes
to come alive.

Sunflower – Small stone Jan 20

Scruffy, spiky, sun-yellowed talons
cupped in a hand of green
rise up from your stalk,
like a church’s spire.
There at seed, the beauty
that will lay claim to your whole.

Separation – Small stone Jan 19

Painted woman, red on black
Twisted limbs and shifting hues
Barebreasted mother and babes,
it is hard to discern
where she ends, and they begin.

Twilight – small stone Jan 18

Now-chipped wedding pink nail-polish 
glows in the in-between light,
as if neon.  Shadows creep 
across the white purity of the page
trying to catch the blue of words.
All make one last, and brightest, cry for freedom
before the darkness gathers
them up, and has them for her own. 

Namaste – (not so) small stone Jan 17

Through this practice, my body
rests like a child and fights like a warrior.
It begins to remember 
that only in this stillness, 
can it source it’s next move.
That only in this silence
can it hear it’s own wisdom.
That only when it lets go
can it find strength.
Each with its opposite
one required by the other.
As it closes it’s eyes
overtaken by darkness
it remembers too
the origin of light.

Complex negotiations – Jan 16 small stone

I ask
You ignore
I tell
You refuse
I threaten
You decide
I yell
You yell.
I prefer
I ask
You do
You prefer
You tell
I do.

Last Shake #9506 – small stone Jan 15

We are like tiny insects, congregating on the back of a sleeping giant, 
who groans and writhes in his sleep.  
That body beneath us roars and trembles.
You hear him before I feel it, and rush toward me, bright blue eyes shining with the now familiar dark shade of fear.  
I wonder, as the giant and you return to rest, how many more your little body can absorb.  

What you love – Jan 14 Small stone

report, with deadline looming, is pushed aside
small stones tease and tempt, coax and whisper,
I succumb.

Or as Rumi so beautifully says ‘let yourself be silently drawn by the stronger pull of what you love’

Brother – Jan 13 Small stone

I see you no longer,
but I see you so clearly
etched in the bodies
of your sons.