All We Can Do Is Hold One Another Up: Ode to Zevvy. {poetry}
All we can do is hold one another up -- with our kindness, our care, our strength, our wisdom, our optimism. With whatever we have to offer.
Browsing Tag:
ode
Polly and Dolores: Ode to My Inbox.
Obviously, I chose the names for the alliteration. So imagine my stupefaction when I learned Polly means 'great sorrow', as does Dolores.
I Find Living Moments of Prayer in Awareness. {poetry}
Meet me in the barrel of a wave, where I might find you in the moment it breaks, to crash your heart upon my rocks, laid out under moonlight blue.
An Ode to the Glastonbury Oak.
You too hold the wisdom and the medicine in your bones, sure as I stand upon this spot. For you too are sacred. You too are of the earth.
Drop the Bomb and Let It Burn: Ode to the F-Word. {poetry}
Now, when little ones are on the scene?
My language is immaculate. Pristine.
That stipulation becomes a way
of bringing mindfulness to each word I say.
F-bombs become a tool
of my own mindfulness school.
I keep to heart this one rule:
If I can see a child,
my language remains ...
The Reasons I Write: Ode To The Pen In My Hand. {poetry}
I am writing because I want to impress the impressive and repress the repression.
Most Sacred Devil, Come To Me: An Ode To The Witch’s Lover.
You know, my horned god -- oh, how you know! -- that this Witch hates to be vulnerable, so hear me when I whisper these words, see the rivulets of reluctant tears on my cheeks, taste the bitter blood on my chin, drink in the scent of my surrender, and feel my heart-drum quickening: I need you. ...
An Ode To The Misfits.
Here’s to the magical, the mystical and the misunderstood. To the wise ones who move between the shadows and the light. To those who howl at the Full Moon and run naked in the flowing streams. To those who read the compass written on the walls of their hearts and follow the North Star etched ...
An Ode To Young Mothers.
I wish I’d loved my body instead of simultaneously rejecting and protecting the very life that was growing within it. I kept my babies healthy and made myself sick because God forbid, anything could be allowed to be easy when it was clearly a big mistake. I know now that children of young moms ...
An Ode To The Brokenhearted.
The best people I know have seen soul mates become strangers and have felt ghosts in their veins where gods used to reign.