This poem was inspired by the many hopes and wishes I was so lucky to hear and have written to me over New Year’s. They really struck a deep chord within me.
sometimes i wish
sometimes i wish i
could gather everyone’s wishes
that whisper soft and deep into the wind
and put them all in
a giant glass bottle, and roll
the bottle out to sea
where the sun’s rays
would catch and beam them
out to the farthest reaches of the universe.
i wish i could take this love-tinted bottle
filled to the very brim with tender hearts
and fear-laced hope
and carry it up to the highest peaks,
where fear can’t breathe
and where the bottle could tip over
sending all the wishes of the world
tumbling down to roam our earth
and tickle the world whole.
For a long day of
Sun ocean sky mountain stream
I place my dreams here.
The laughter of a
Setting sun behind mountains:
I belong to you.
I am quiet so
her invitation comes closer.
The mermaid myth moves like velvet wind in me, I must have
seen her before,
from behind, arching toward the sun at our horizon,
there she is in that one great sky-cloud, in the space between rain coming down for days.
In the rain too, of course, where she reigns without sigh or remorse, or holding back her soundless breathless mirth that waits.
She cries, O goddess in you!
from the goddess in her.
I cry back,
Thank you for being found!
Because today is a day for building worlds,
it’s too late to retroact
To scream confusion
To bellow in your ears for compassion.
It’s too late to take the night and set it on fire and throw down the day with bloodied brushstrokes and swords that gleamed the centuries away.
Down with taking down!
So we turn to the mermaid who has been bathing her wisdom with soft feather breath these long years, encasing it with an ever-moving grace, fluid, readying it for our awakening, ready to
Hush the mountains of our rained down hope.
*This article was first published in elephant journal.
I’m honoured that this poem was recently published in the amazing Camel Saloon!
Come Find Me
Come find me,
The world depends on it.
Meet me at the stepped rock
You know the one
Atop Pure Land Mountain.
You say you haven’t heard
Windhorses rustling in holy height
I say, find your way to
The air is so thin up there
That skin and bones fall away
Leaving everything we need,
The space between us.