I could long for no greater master Than the forest teacher Who with wind and silence says ‘Be still’
No greater doctor than The forest healer who Holding life and death within her says ‘You…
I am writing to you from the desertWhere I have wrung myself outLike a damp flannel on an airless day.
There is nothing left here to offer.No deep well of intuition. No gleeful spark.The dusty casing discarded by an…
Step downinto the river.Step down.
I must rememberthat I forget so easily.
There is a shred -A shred of a sliver of somethingThat I recall in a thoughtOf a smile that beamsOr the wryest grin with a twistOr a face that is sunlit and lovingThat I long for
I reach out a thread to you,tiptoe and stretched to a fingertipas subtle inner constellations feel the strain,slumbered inertia gives way to well-tuned stringsand I offer a connection, an open invitation,to empty, energetic, unforgiving space and -you might meet me here.