3 Poems

Rain in January

listen to the burble
of the water on the stove
the smell nutty
and spicy
making something
out of the hard
dried rocks
to eat
no less magical
than fairies
dancing in the rain.

Dance

How I long to dance
amidst the salt
sprays and ocean
breezes, between
the trees.
I want to feel
the soft loam
and spread my toes
over rocks and roots
between pines.
Filtered sunlight;
my guide,
birds, butterflies
shall be the beat
I keep time to.
Somewhere away
somewhere I can
be free to
live the poetry
of life. Out
in a world
that is raw.
I will add my voice
to the song of the forest
here at the edge of the great
Pacific.
Add my pounding feet
to the rhythm of life.
And finally breathe.

Water and Stone