if i walked through the gate,
would i find the quiet place?
would i find the place where all things make sense?
the place where i could understand why things are not always the way i want them to be,
but the place of resolution that all things are as they are?
and if i didn't walk through that gate,
would it be okay if those answers were not there for me?

i don't know if i can walk through that gate,
and
i don't know if i can't.

couldn't i just always
live in that little sliver of time
where the trees are perfectly lit up with their fall colors
and the sky is that soft cyan blue?

the early morning light
is the light
that
runs through my veins
and
fills me with
the quiet hope that
all will be well.

the late day light
is the light
that i breathe
in,
and fills me with
the assurance that
indeed...
all was well.

he asked me if i would take a walk with him and so i did.
we walked for a very long time
through all four of the seasons many times over and through mountains of patience
and
compromise and
crazy.
sometimes my feet would hurt and blister and i complain,
but he listens to me and supports me while i look for a band aid.
and
he always reaches out his hand to help me back up when i trip and fall
and smiles at me lovingly.

and then we walk some more.

people have told me many
times,
they worry that
if they started to cry.....
they would never stop.

but what they don't realize,
is that every tear that falls is not
just from their eyes,
but from their heart.
and their heart is like a sponge....
it can only hold so much sadness
before it gets too heavy
and must shed its weight.

if i sit and think about things,
then i feel guilty
that i've wasted time thinking
too much
and
not doing enough.

when i do a whole bunch,
then i feel guilty
that i haven't slowed down
and given more thought before
i acted.

so i was thinking that it might be good
to think about my thinking time
as actually doing something....
i'm thinking.

and to do my doing time as
a way of clearing my mind so
that i can think.


most times though,
i forget what i was thinking about
and usually can't remember what it was that i was supposed to do
anyways.....

dear universe,

please let me cross my bridges with confidence.

let me pass with grace
and integrity
on my walks across.

may i always give myself permission
to stop and look behind me
to measure how far i've come,

may i not let how far i need to go
intimidate me or keep me from trying,

and...

may i always have a super cute outfit to wear,
so i can strut my stuff in style.

amen.

she told me
that when people get missing,
it makes our spirits
weary
and then she yawned
and i knew
that she
would
never
stop
searching.

i was thinking
of the ways that jam
and people
are similar to one another........

they both can spread themselves too thin
and sometimes too thick.....
they're both colorful and shine when the light hits them.....
and although no one would ever have thought to pair them with nuts,
when they are,
the effect is delightful

some days,
it's all i can
do
to
be
the horizon
line
in this
vertical
world.

even the strength
of rocks
can be broken
into little
pebbles
if we're not
careful to try
and
keep
balanced

it wasn't until
she
stepped off the plane
that she
truly began
to
fly

it was hard to discern
between
the fireflies
that lit the warm summer's night
and
the twinkling in her
happy,
shining
eyes.

i'm stuck.
but not the kind of stuck
that's
between a rock
and a
hard
place.
but
the kind of stuck
when you discover
that you have gum on your shoe and you don't want to take another step
until you get it off so you don't stick it to anything else.
the kind of stuck
when you're finally all comfortable and peaceful
in bed
and then you discover you have to go to the bathroom.

the inertia kind of stuck.
the barnacle on a boat.
the clog in the drain.
the bogged down,
wheat pasted,
cemented
kind of stuck.

i'm in the midst of being stuck.....
which,
if you think about it...
is really action in and of itself...
the action of being stuck.
so....
maybe i'm really not stuck at all...
right?
or maybe not....

you intensify
the light of the sun
when you smile at someone,
when you laugh,
when you
love.

they say there are seven natural wonders of the world,
but for me,
by far,
there are so many more.......

the way a tree arches into the sunlight
and throws its shadow
across the landscape.....

the impeccable design of a bird's nest,
flawlessly executed.....

the dreamlike beauty of a
little girl
twirling in a pink
fluttery
skirt.....

there are so many more ways to wonder than seven.

isn't the irony
of saying
"i have nothing to say"
such that
by saying
"i have nothing to say"
you in fact,
say
something?

she told me that she
always wanted to stay up in her head
because
that's where all
the
good
memories
were.

every time i turn the corner
on this
restless place
there is
more
restless
place

growing up,
i was always told
to wipe my feet
when coming
into the house....
but i always
felt
that if i didn't
leave a muddy
footprint or two,
my mother would
never even know
i
had
ever
been
there.