Beautiful numbers

pi day song - Observing sometimes means counting. How many times over, or how many iterations, repetitions in a pattern—these details are necessary to an act of keen artistic understanding. Time spent observing, letting the eye circle its shrine while interiorly circumambulating the heart’s concerns, isn’t counted. In fact, it puts time back into your … Continue reading Beautiful numbers


Riverside high tide It’s a state of mind. Empty and ready to face the don’t-know-what’s-next feeling with patience. My students have written some amazing poems so far this year. Maybe it’s because feelings can’t be helped these days, and a creative opening can help.


Primrose path memory It’s like singing, except it’s painting or writing poems or sharing a recipe or planting a pot of flowers or anything else that awakens a full presence. For the past few months in my creative life, I have been writing little poetry, and I admit that I wondered why my voice was … Continue reading Voicings

Pure poetry

One of my students sent me some snow-day poems. And that has made all the difference. We work on some images, phrases. While storms rush through and it becomes increasingly painful to read the newspaper every day, one wonders how else to support the growth of love and hope in this world. And then through … Continue reading Pure poetry


One of the collaborative poems from our literary salon evening last weekend. When dessert is sweet inspiration... While my made-up face tells a story---the fairy tale--- from this cold bitter winter comes the sweet clutch of mud against the skin, a film of grit left behind--- reminded me of my Great Dane as a child, … Continue reading Alight


More than a flurry of books, lit mags, and papers cover my desk right now, making the dining table a happy option. I'm starting work on a new set of poem translations this week---waking my vocabulary skills, and piercing the language for something sweet.


Of course, light always follows that darkness, of frightening storms and power outages, of the end-of-daylight-savings-time, of the anxious elections. Sometimes we can make some right in the middle of it, of course. Tissue paper and wallpaper paste, molded on balloons, of course.