A Feast Awaits!

I marinate in a stew of “busy,”a star of importance pinned on my lapel.This is the “success” culture sells, is it not?The one who is stretched thinnest, wins —Right? The ease for me comes in making my exterior shine while I take on the world. As Ru Paul says, “We’re all born naked and the rest is drag.”So, who will I show up as? The pages of Cosmopolitan taught this awkward teen to appear en vogue.Add some eye liner, rouge and a fuchsia scarf — mere basics for one who dabbles with color all day.By now, I know well how…

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…

Let Beauty Nap in Your Lap

I hear you. You are tired. Worn out from this and that, a dire need for vibrancy Today, I urge you with this simple task: let beauty nap in your lap I know, I know you are quite busy with big plans, talkfests, running to and fro, but if you take a stand to sit, If you take a stand to be IF you take a stand to still and allow the wings of a pigeon dove to shield you with mercy, well then You may find yourself falling in love with the insignificant You may find yourself dreaming something…

Stay Alert: The Reptilian Brain Lurks

Stay alert this All Hallow’s Eve for what lurks in secret places. Critters and creatures march in the dark, coming for their sweets. But another contemptuous one lies in wait to warn us of what ifs. I tell you, keep watch for the reptilian brain — This one, dressed as an ancient warrior armed and ready to fight. This one, dressed as an Olympic sprinter, winged shoes on ready to flee. This one, who lies deep within us, anticipates its’ parade of dominion. This, the brain who hungers for more— letting lust lure, not sated by a spreadable feast, but…