it is here

It is here

Imagine the deliciousness of letting 
        go, like 
    			into the deep
sea of sleep, allowing  yourself to 
                         s – t – e – p 
                         the cliff’s 
                   y			edge 
discovering	  l
         you can f		sky 
    			into the 
or even float
   like a boat
	in the vastness of the water

        from your	grasping
		        constant seeking
				        of light
It is here
	in the most ordinary
of opening yourself
into the 
now of what is. 

I had fun playing with formatting on this one. At some places it’s difficult to read, although I hope you found it a fun little adventure. ;]


Fall leaves, Iowa City, Iowa

This poem was written in response to a prompt in How to Write Poetry: A Guided Journal with Prompts to Ignite Your Imagination. The suggestion was to use an image from someone else’s poem. I selected Ranier Maria Rilke’s Autumn with images of leaf, earth, falling.

The rustle of the poplar leaves,
one leaf touching another
singing sweetly
a final farewell
The golden earth hungers
after a hot full summer,
looking up with a promise
she opens to receive
the falling fruit

fall into the darkness


Fall into the Darkness

Fall into the darkness
Curl into the quiet
Nestle in until the stillness comes
Rest in the rhythm of your breath
Allow the morning light to seep into your being
Awaken to the mysterious flow of life


This poem came as an invitation: stop resisting, and open.

By falling into my dark spaces of fear or negativity, really letting them in, even momentarily, I am released from struggle. To courageously stop fighting and allow myself to be vulnerable is like moving through an invisible doorway from one room to another. The new room is filled with energy that carries me where I want to go.

This falling in and resting until stillness comes – it can take a second, or it can take days, or months. Whether it’s a little stressor or a bigger life obstacle, there is something powerful in detaching, not judging, allowing, and opening. It’s like clearing debris so that life’s energy can move through me again.


* I took this photo at sunrise on the beach at San Agustinillo, Mexico.