My Offering To You


For you, who are
an extension of me,
an offering of all
I’ve ever had to give,
though it only appears
to me now, a sun
blooming over the mountain
on a full moon dawn
like the warrior
of life and of light
that has been waiting
for me to turn toward it
every morning of my life.
I am here.
I stand before the mountain,
in awe of her perseverance,
patience, mammoth strength,
and the sun that emerges
to the sound of birds chirping
and distant cars rumbling
fills the other half
of the world.
Sun and mountain fill the frame,
one stately shape making room
for pure awe of the space
that surrounds it, pink,
pure and new,
and this is what I offer you,
my full, hopeful presence
that will never take away
from the vastness of yours.



My Peace Anthem Today


Sometimes life
is just one big plush
nearly impossible blend of
gorgeous sunset hues, yellow too,
gathered not like armies but like trees,
not like missiles but like bamboo shoots,
not like things imprisoned but connected,
not signatures of doom but of wonder,
ready, haven’t we always known it,
to get fire, to be our fire,
to get lit.
– tt

What Is An Offering


what is an offering
if not love’s face?
heart guiding hand
into intricate movements
the whole body mobilized
for the single sacred purpose
soft, firm and delicate
transfixed in the making
the tender embracing of
Earth’s sweet scents
transmuted into woven
formations ocean deep
the sun a gleaming witness
the moon’s grace in hiding
the gathering, the giving,
the chant of devotion
what is an offering
if not love’s gentle face? – TS



There are times when

my offering is feeble,

When I don’t know

the rhythm of my heart

or where it might

enter it harmonies.

I am sorry. I am sorry.

I carry you inside me

as I take hesitant steps,

adjusting to the light

and finding before me

in perfect unison

petals lacing stems

fiery colors meeting

the sun,

not the slightest

discord among them.

How they breathe.

How effortless it is.

How they offer

the totality of what they are

Without self-consciousness,

shame or pain.

How so much joy

arises from this. – TS



In offering to
you, the wingborn
permeating our
spaces of
reflection and
hearing our cries
absorbing our pain
whispering comforts
knowing we may
never be able to
hear them,
as we are
so often blind to
the soft and
persistent nature
of our own
hearts beating
and how we
come into our
when we allow
our rhythms to
resound together
in communion,
joy and
servitude – TS

And This is My Offering


And this is my offering
From me to you on
a day of grey and rain,
of all the things I
have, which are also
not mine to give,
but are reminders
of what has always
united us
in this life we
have been given,
the simplest things,
the ones that bring us joy,
the flowers of life
which come awake,
even more under
the gaze of our
attention and love. – TS