Metamorphosis

There’s a quality of light just after a rain, when the sun first shines through gray and turns every green thing several shades brighter. The birds are subdued, but sound hopeful. The light sparkles in drops of water suspended on pine needles. It dims, then grows, in a pulsing kind of dance, from gray to • Read More »


Unspoken

A crow wakens me from a dream that you found words I wrote in private. Some groundhog far away didn’t see his shadow, so now crows pair off, dancing, cawing, impressing mates for spring. I sleep and dream you found my journals. I wonder if you read my stream of consciousness, saw the flying buttresses • Read More »


Life’s palette

Souls come in splashes of color, intermingling, from pale spring pastel to chartreuse, opening a gaudy bloom in a hot summer garden, or tossing a pigment-saturated leaf in autumn. One fades, a soft breeze that waved flower tops departs in murmurs of leaves, a whisper lost. Another dies. All the flowers droop, leaves fall as • Read More »


Sometimes a flood

Grief lays stones in my heart, one for each loss, gemstones all, but it’s harder to pump blood around stones. Sometimes a family of beavers moves in, fells trees, sets up house. Minding their business, they don’t know they stop the flow. The pressure builds, wet, heavy, nudging rocks, until the dam bursts, catching me • Read More »


Past perfect, present imperfect

On the perfect yellow rose rested a dewdrop as perfect as the rose in every way. It slid down the petal with a most perfect grace, then fell to the rich soil below, content to find its place. I will never be as perfect as the dewdrop, yet in my awkward way, I have my • Read More »


In the attic

We pack things into this keeper of castoffs, treasures fallen from favor, things no one wants to remember or forget. Letters and cards, photos of the loved, departed, clothes that no longer fit, traces of money earned, then lost or spent, yellowed magazines, books we’ll surely read again, and those no one will— manuscripts that • Read More »


Edgar Allan Poe

Dear Mr. Poe, Thank you for the poetry, the stories, the mystery. Happy Birthday. Respectfully, a fan * * * The Raven (excerpt) And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s • Read More »


The naked truth

Truth doesn’t come in a pretty package tied up in wrapper and ribbon. Truth comes in a flash of insight, in words left unspoken. One might pray for truth yet never find it until ready, stretching, in a desperate, humble moment of surrender. Truth doesn’t enter the writer’s mind while she waits, pen poised to • Read More »


The unseen

When I’m invisible, I watch people go on living all around, unaware that I watch. Dropping their guard, they dance and flow and sing, full streams of clear water, bubbling. Only as long as I’m silent, apart, not a part of their lives, never entering their hearts. For when I begin to interact with people, • Read More »


Journals, past present future

Turtleheart asked in “Journaling Stuff” (link no longer active): “Do you regularly keep any kind of personal journal, online or off? What works best for you?” I started out journaling on looseleaf notebook paper, as a girl. Sometimes I bought colored paper or a spiral notebook for a change. Later I collected bound blank books • Read More »


Need and greed

I’ve been keeping an eye on my greed recently, my attachment to the material world that pulls me in and makes me desire something. We live in a world where one is considered just a little insane if one doesn’t value the material, the necessity for money that we call practicality. There are degrees of • Read More »


Coping

I think there is a certain amount of unavoidable grief in every life that we simply have to learn to find ways to live with and still function. Not every illness is treatable, some of us have to put up with pain, and we inevitably lose some people we love. The older we get the • Read More »


Individuality and friendship

We can respect others’ differences, and accept them, even love them unconditionally, without thinking we have to make everyone a bosom buddy. I believe we’re here to learn, and each is a work in progress, so I tend not to expect too much perfection of others. But I’m choosy about my close relationships. I have • Read More »


A little blonde girl

A little blonde girl has shown up in my dreams repeatedly for years. I never connected all her appearances until recently when I began to read back through some dream journals and realized she’s been present in my dreams, off and on, for a such long time. I’m not even sure how far back, because • Read More »


Looking closer

It’s amazing when you look more closely at your own back yard, how the place you consider ordinary can suddenly appear exotic and new. When we lived in a suburb of San Diego, my husband and I used to examine every insect, every bird, every weed we encountered in our yard. Once we saw what • Read More »