Tag Archives: poetry

Turning Toward A Brightness

I have seen the sun break through to illuminate a small field for a while, and gone my way and forgotten it. But that was the pearl of great price, the one field that had treasure in it. I realize … Continue reading

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Journal Page from Thursday

How you stand here is important. How you listen for the next things to happen. How you breathe.   (William Stafford) “How you fall is also important,” says my friend Nyuol, who is twenty-six but very wise. “If you fall, … Continue reading

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In Search of Better Thoughts

When I told my friend Dorothy I was trying to overcome my muteness, she wrote to me about white lilacs. In their brief season, she said, they are “white like brides, with less than a month of blooming, not questioning … Continue reading

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Despite A Pall That’s Fallen On All

The Santa Ynez Valley women hikers ascended Gaviota Peak last week, looked out upon fog as thick and white as a field of snow below, then walked beneath a trestle of blooming ceanothus as we came down Trespass Trail. There are wildflowers … Continue reading

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Uncharted Waters

Yesterday as I looked out onto the hills and sea beyond, all the craziness and sadness receded, and for a moment, this was the only reality I knew. So many worlds within the world, I thought. So many moments happening … Continue reading

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The Rain and The Light

And now it has been two years. One night I dreamed that I was standing on a grassy hilltop with her and one of my girlfriends, our silhouettes framed against a wide blank sky. She looked more as she did … Continue reading

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Pool

Morning has surprised me. I looked up from my coffee cup and there it was, waiting patiently outside, a soft gray light beyond a translucent curtain of coastal fog. My list is long today; there are so many things I … Continue reading

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Let my history then be a gate unfastened to a new life and not a barrier to my becoming.                                   (from the poem “Yorkshire” … Continue reading

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Journey by Train

Yet landscapes flow like this toward a place, A point in time and memory’s own face. So when the clamor stops, we really climb Down to the earth, closing the curve of time, Meeting those we have left, to those … Continue reading

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To Somehow Find Our Way

Tomorrow will mark a year since my mother’s death. I am absolutely a different person now than I was a year ago and that’s all I want to say about that, which is probably a relief to readers of this … Continue reading

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