-
i want to taste the change wind
Drawing by Tim Hewitt-Coleman some days it’s a long walk
to remembering,
(berg wind breath down my neck),
slow to start the journey
when i’ve forgotten that we forget.somewhere beyond the desert
a butterfly unfurls her wings
and here at the edge of the ocean
the wind begins to sing.
through the night i hear it calling
wind creaking through sleep and dream.this morning i wake with new feet
learn to walk with the rising sun.
did not know that i had started
until the walking had already begun. -
earthbound
it was raven
who stirred the sky
this morning
arcing dark wings
in a far away sky
as i walked up the hill
tasting the road
with my feet.
Drawing by Tim Hewitt-Coleman -
rain dance
there is electric
in the air
i taste it on my tongue
wet my finger to test the wind
breathless – i wait
run cool hands across the sky
calling
under my feet
mycelium
are threading towards
the light
hearing beyond the horizon
waiting for the storm.
With drawing by Tim Hewitt-Coleman -
almost time to plant the seeds
over read and stuffed
fuzz full with headlines
and bylines transferred
and absorbed in
so many megabits of
inconsequential per second
i come to walk the sun-warmed dew.
hoping my feet will remember
where to plant the cauliflower,
where i left the spade,
what being human feels like
in this body and the body
of this earth that i walk on.
Drawing by Tim Hewitt-Coleman -
so we put her back on the bus for the second term of her second year.
i imagine the sky
a little bluer
when you’re here,
hills a little greener
lakes so much more
ablaze in morning light –
and i smile with the house
smug on its spindly legs
sighing at her rooms
full of daughters.
but time shrinks
and rushes
when you walk
in the door
and cramming the days
back to back
full of beauty
does nothing at all
to slow it.
is it possible
that the tide
will not claim
our footprints
sandbound on
the sunlit shore.at night in sleep
i nibble away
at the moon
watching the sky
turn the seasons.
Drawing by Tim Hewitt-Coleman -
drinking the sky
i nearly forgot
up there on the hill
wind blustered
and sun drunk
on mist breath
and endless ocean,
nearly forgot my
solidity of bone
and lack of wing.
nearly remembered
flight.
Drawing by Tim Hewitt-Coleman -
and today’s bonus poem(napowrimo 21)
remembering again
she said we were bleeding
at our roots.
she said of all the species
sharing this planet – we were
the only ones who had to pay
to live here
and after my silence,
like deep river swallowing stone,
i had to laugh
because that is a special kind of stupid –
and sunday school had taught
that we were the ones
who knew better
so we were the ones
who got to rule the earth –
lord it over everything.
(except those who lived in heaven
who would lord it over us)
and yet somehow here we are
at the tail end of an epoch
opening our eyes for the very first time
and seeing
seeing that way back when
and every day since then
we are choosing
the short end of the stick.
that in our choice
to lord it over everything
we replicate a pattern
to lord over
and be lorded over by
and each level of the hierarchy
pays its due to the lords above
in blood or oil or money or being
until we forget we made this choice.
that we chose
not to accept
we are no more than – that we
along with rock and river
and a billion other
shapes of life
are this earth –
together.
we don’t need
to earn a living.
we are life. -
cordelia
Drawing by Tim Hewitt-Coleman too long she said
cooped up in here
amongst the dust
and tired words.
go outside she said
taste the air
that bites the night
while the stars
swim on
homeward. -
today
in the heart
of my beloved
flows a river.
steadily steadily
i row this infinite flow.in the heart
of my beloved
grows a tree
gently gently
i rest.
-
first utterance
if the world
is created
by our breath
by the words we speak,
then it was the moon
that made me
this morning
first light
waning soft
amongst the trees
speaking me
into the world.if the world
is made
by our breath
and the spaces
of silence between,
then it must the sun
that made me
this morning.
calling me out
waking the hills
speaking me
into the world.if the world
is formed
by the words
that breathe
through me,
then let
my first utterance
be here love.
let me speak this
into the world.
Drawing by Tim Hewitt-Coleman