The Way to Thanks Giving

If… your festive season comes tinged with a lemon ache of — a unicorn hope that’ll never be, a shining light who’ll be missed at your table, a tribe who dons different stripes than yours, a ten-spiced, home cooked cranberry sauce when a simple, canned condiment is what you long for — (hold fast) This is where the spiral will fling you to the black forest in a blink (notice that?) It’s your heartbeat. speeding up. (do you hear her message?) She hums, “GO! — to your mat, your canvas, your trees — Slow down. take a breath. Allow silence…

Glitter in the Grief

This poem is a collective of my own and other’s tales of creativity I’ve packed into one story. Dedicated to those women who are out there blazing the creative spiritual trail. You were told not to get dirty. Keep your fingernails clean. Nice girls smile polite. And, for goodness’ sake, “Do not cuss!” But, you couldn’t help bending your childlike knees in your striped yellow dress,leaning low toward the earth to make a prayer with the God-given soil that lay beneath your feet. You scooped handfuls of water and dust, feeling wet sludge mush between your fingers; this slippery grit…

Kaleidoscope Prayer

As I continue on as a spiritual being having a human experience*, my view of prayer, like a kaleidoscope, has slowly shifted, offering me an opportunity to wrestle as well as fresh beauty at different points in my life. Nowadays, I believe that prayer is all around us and all we have to do is tune into it. No words are necessary. Being present to the conversation, the plea, the pain, the beauty is, indeed, the prayer. What view of prayer do you have? For me, engaging in creativity and painting helps me to tend to this presence and flow. How has it shifted over time?

Kneeling (for Change)

– Dedicated to my friend Petra I have a canvas in my studio space, large, four feet by five feet, leans against the wall, too large for any easel, a monstrosity to handle Quite by accident, one day, I find myself on my knees painting, swept into unlikely prayer, marking — my colorful story — rhythms of the moon — thresholds to cross This is where She finds me Call her what you will — Mother Divine Sacred Feminine Mary, Eve, Wisdom (Proverbs 8) Spirit Woman Whoever she is, She persists in Her Love revealing all the nuances of Scripture…

The Gift of the Invisible Instinct

I spy what lies before me — simple analog clock pesters me with kronos time – tick, tick, tick fading moon peeks airy consonance from behind a hazy, morning cloud hot teacup invites me to linger a bit longer before the groove of tasks press All a reminder of living, here, in this age of ancient future Yet, I’m most interested in the sensing of invisible ideas imaginative whimsy intuitive nudges This secluded insight takes form in the white space of silence, the unspoken sparkle of a fresh encounter, the dreams that leave an imprint upon waking. This cloaked vision…