Entry 38: Vibration


You sense the whirring

The hisses and purrs

You clutch your anchor to

Still the vibrations


You are frightened

I am not, lifted


Hovering an inch

Above the Earth

At ease with the buzz

Electrifying my every intention


I surrender



Shields, en-lightened


I see your magnificence

I see your struggle

I love you with my heart

Connected to All Hearts


You’ll lose sight of me

As I rise through the clouds

I  am still




Just as you are




Entry 37: The Audacity of Canvas


Who am I

To fill this canvas,

With colors of my whim

Following paths of my

Untethered desires?

Why spend

Time away from familial duties,

Hard earned money on

Brushes and paints?


The canvas is for

The creative,

The inspirational,  

The movement builders

With a vision for the masses.


I have only a quiet

Yearn in my heart for

Vibrant colors and curved lines,

A small ache in my soul for

Texture and beauty.


Who am I

To fill this canvas?


rainbow spirit

Entry 36: What if…? (yoga)


When I was 25, and my yoga teacher said, “your heels may not reach the floor during Downward Dog, and that is ok”, I did not believe her.

When she said, “if you need to rest your hands on a block”, I heard her say, “if you’re not flexible enough, rest your hands on a block”.

When he said, “do only what you can while keeping your breath steady and smooth”, I thought, well, what he really means is, “real exercise makes you breathe hard, but this isn’t real exercise, it’s relaxation”.

When she said, “use the variation that feels right to your body”, I heard, “use the most strenuous of the variations that you can”.

When he said, “it can feel more comfortable to use a belt”, I heard him say, “since you have an unnaturally short torso, you’ll need to use a belt”.

When she said, “reach your arms as far as you can, without effort or ambition”, I thought she meant, “reach your arms as close to the floor as I can- if you keep practicing, you’ll get there”.

What if I had heard, the words that they said, instead of the ones that were in my head?


Entry 34: Anxiety


Seize my breath

Wring my gut

It is a feat to climb from my nest

Each day

Out in the world

We are alone, alone

Who will be with you, when you take your last breath?

Which of your loved ones will be taken before that day?  

How many days will you wake after the heartbreak?

It is too much to know

It is the not knowing that haunts

So I keep moving

Eat chocolate pudding

So I can forget

Complain about rain

While the asteroid gears towards Earth

I pretend to not know

But it is so

It is so

It is

Entry 33: Please don’t get me flowers


Please don’t get me flowers

Or jewelry

Or anything that fits in a

Wrapped ribboned box

The things I yearn for are

In the air

In my nerves

In my heart

I yearn for a day of no decisions

Little responsibility

Few tasks

No worries pulling my shoulders down

I want a day

Where events flow with ease

A day of music

And laughing

Sunshine would be lovely

Though not necessary

Lightness in all our hearts

I’m hoping for giving and sharing

And gracious receiving




And more dancing

Entry 32: Tree


She dances solo

On a patch of grass

Across from the prison wall


Birch white, with swirls of gray

Like a couture gown on a Paris runway

She wears no leaves of jewelry


Waves her curvaceous branches

Her trunk stretches

Towards the sun


She is aglow from within

My throat aches to

Not have the skill


To expose her visual beauty

My words are corny

Analogies juvenile


I envy the painter

Who shapes and shades

Shadows and highlights


All I have are saturated words

Inadequate for

Her Majesty, and I

I am unworthy

Entry 31: Edith


She sits on a stool behind the door of the women’s bathroom at the back of the bar.  The floors are the color of dark mud, and the stall doors look beaten up by years of neglect.  It is a tight fit: she and I are within a hug’s reach while I wait for one of the two stalls.  After using the bathroom, I wiggle past her knees and the rolling cart that she has stocked with liquid soap bottles in various scents.  She squeezes the orange soap into my hands and I turn to face the spotted mirror above the narrow sink.  A hand-written cardboard sign is propped against the back of the rusty faucet, announcing that she is Edith and that she would appreciate any tips for her services of giving soap and paper towels to visitors of her bathroom.  

Above the sign, a small wooden shelf hosts reused plastic containers, filled with remedies for assorted problems that could be encountered by a bar-goer:  rubber bands in multiple colors, individually-wrapped mints and candies, single doses of aspirin.  She has stocked each item thoughtfully, and I assume, with her own money. 

I am most touched by the container that now holds assorted sizes of tampons, imagining how fortunate one would be to find Edith’s bathroom, out of hundreds of establishments, in the midst of an unexpected period crisis on Bourbon Street.

Entry 30: Time Stretches


I open my eyes to a morning glow

for one moment there is


the clock stands silent

until my mind knocks on the door of my


chattering quietly then quicker

the clock ticking and tapping

I inhale a slow


soothing the prattle

my neurons awaken pulsing with


choices stem from there

in the morning I meander among the redwoods

and delight my taste buds

filling my stomach with freshness

I then voyage to the

farthest waters watching blue whales

leap from choppy seas

mid-day I attempt to learn to knit

fingers fumbling

relieved of the burden to know-it-all

over dinner I commune with a loved one

sharing heart stories and dreams

then I paint works of art that

mirror the anatomy of my soul

before dreamtime I ponder and

breathe in

chest expanding

the wonder of a day where



until tomorrow