Altar of Poems

A collaboration with Sophie Garcia — exploring the ancestral function of altars as places of devotion, dreams, and invocations.

I have started making altars everywhere.

Each flat surface holds up candles melting white wax, photos, sometimes flowers. Windowsills collect crystals, smooth, glittering before rain rivulets on glass. I fill corners of rooms with feathers, sticks of incense, prop inspirational oracle cards against my bedside lamp to illuminate and ease the swaying survival between sleep and wake.

The altars, they are spilling out of doors. I sculpt fallen cedar branches around a pile of river stones, smooth from places that still move and flow. I bring old pitchers of water to cluster behind the garage, make a circle of stumps from felled trees on the side of the shed. I stack shells on driftwood, string beads in my houseplants.

I decorate my own desire to make something beautiful.

I am eager for the sacred.

Air Altar

Items: feathers, varied (in this case, one silent fluffed owl, from the wing; two flicker tail feathers, pointed orange to black; one long dark raven, curved like a blade); yellow candle; My inhale; My exhale

You must become still to pray. To become still, you must

understand your own breath: how it moves and how

to move it. You must be able to call it slow and deep

into you and push it rapid from the solar plexus. With this skill,

you are also able to direct the movement of thought.

Your mind can catch the current for where you want to go.

You can summon your breath to infuse with life-force

the words that are most important to you. Now you can

cast out a vision for your life. Now the words are a spell.

Fire Altar

Items: Matches; Tiny black cauldron crusted with incense resin; Candles, varied and in various stages of melt (wax dripping, oozing, pooling on old chipped tea saucers); My passion; My rage

I am always bringing something to you, some

Denseness in my stomach or twitchiness rising

The back of my neck. Some alive and prickling

Thing, tapping the periphery like christmas lights

On the fritz. Some achey thing that I can’t move

But must wait with, like the snaggy danger

of a hangnail.

Sometimes what I bring is my holiest wishes

to turn bright like you, your fierce and swift

Dance, flash of blessing.

Yesterday, my friend and I pulled storm debris —

Broken branches, dead trees — to build a bonfire.

The heat pushed the cedar branches living fifteen feet

Above the flame into a wave. Weightless, everything

Seemed, swaying on your certainty. Debris,

Edginess, hope– all, sudden light.

Earth Altar

Items: Pebbles, sized to fit in the palm; Small bones, most likely from mice; My most thriving house plant, the green philodendron; My hands; My body.

I start familiar:

One foot, then the other

Amen

On the path, wooded and brown

Hallelujah

Where the trail is so tall with Douglas Fir

Their green hands brush the sky

Amen

And wind felled twigs clutter the way.

Each day I begin with one foot,

Then the other

Amen

Along the creek or through the forest,

Swift enough to brisk the cold air

To feel heat tickle the thighs

Or the chest or the arms swinging

Hallelujah

One foot, then the other

Hips opening on their hinges

Face open to the damp

Amen

Beneath the canopy of evergreen grace

I walk, I walk

Smell of tree and dirt in my nose

Amen Amen

Watching for the roots that wind up

thick as pythons. Might stump my toe.

Might pitch me forward to catch myself

Falling to the ground

Amen

Tricked into the blessing

Of touching earth

Hallelujah Hallelujah

Water Altar

Items: Silver moon bell; Small jar of sea water; Small bowl of creek water; A clear drinking glass; My saliva; My blood; My tears

Rhythm and pace

Longing

Temperature, coolness vs. warmth

Salinity, cleansing vs. detoxing

Rejection/constrictive pressure

Acceptance/fluidity

Longing

Integrity of vessels

Integrity of the vessel

Release

Longing

Ancestral Altar: Recipe Book

Poppa’s coffee

1. Choose a medium bodied blend. Something a little upscale but not too much; a blend that can be respected in both the home and the backcountry, that will stand up equally in a cozy mug or camping thermos.
2. Do a rough measure using the standardized measuring scoop. Sometimes rounded. Sometimes scant.
3. But use the machine to get the brew time right. This is where precision counts. Poppa knew time; geologic mostly, and was expert in the span of growth and decay over centuries.
4. Poppa’s sweetness was subtle, not non-existent. However, it did not live in a cup. Never add sweetener.
5. Use milk or half and half. No heavy cream. This is about balance. Make space for sturdiness and playfulness both.
6. Leave prepared on the counter until you almost forget you’ve made it, but not before it gets cold.
7. Add to altar with a maple bar or apple fritter when lukewarm.

Great Grandma Marie’s Brown Tea

1. Use one to two Lipton tea bags (Yes, Lipton. You don’t got to get fancy. But it better be strong). You may not know if you need one or more tea bags until you add the other ingredients because this is based on color and taste, on how it feels on your tongue, in your mouth and in your body, more than anything else.
2. When you add cream or milk (Yes dairy, child, nothing wrong with cow’s milk), it should come out the brown of pecan shells or Carolina dirt — dark, rich, soft, smooth.
3. When you add sugar (yes just plain white cane sugar, goodness), it is not to overpower the dark tea but should meet it head on. You should have a feeling in your mouth of your teeth standing upright in your gums, then your bones standing upright in your body.
4. Add and build up the flavors until you get this combination, then pour into the same mug everyday and place, hot hot, on the altar.

Saida Rose’s Simple Water

1. She didn’t get a chance to be born, so the vessel for this is to be your own baby cup, the silver one engraved with your name and birth date, a gift from your mother’s mother when you were born.
2. Fill with fresh cool water each day, straight from the tap running well water to your kitchen.
3. Place near the freshest flowers on the altar. Say her name aloud but in a whisper. Say good morning, sweet one. Good morning.