with wonder and delight

Waves on Playa San Agustinillo
 with wonder and delight
 the sun shines
 on the deep blue sea
 bright light pulling us
 like thread unraveling 
 from a favorite winter sweater
 the white waves
 splash and crash
 under the golden sky
 repeating like a refrain
 music to our ears singing
 away the cold of home

 the strandline soaks
 the soft sand
 laying down a rug
 for our callused feet
 to wander into 
 a fresh new day
 the sand crabs scurry
 along the water’s edge
 as we meander
 through their neighborhood
 together we dance before the sea
 with wonder and delight 

Another poem from my Gathering at the Sea collection, written while on holiday in San Agustinillo, Mexico in January 2021. You can find other poems from my little collection previously posted here:


The Ocean

little shell

a song of escape

The Moon Speaking

 The Moon Speaking
 I remember that night, when I was full-on 
 in my shiny best, I got a glimpse of you moving 
 along the sandy shore. You caught my attention 
 as you skipped from spot to spot on the wet sand 
 where the gentle waves caress the earth. You were chasing 
 sand crabs. Whether teeny-tiny or the bigger ones, those 
 armored beings always beat your lumbering foot, like a giant \
 overtaking them, back into their little bitty holes. You
 giggled at their speed and spoke to them in laughter. When you 
 tired of your rollicking pursuit, you paused on the sand and 
 gazed out over the water to the horizon. Your spine 
 straightened like a tree in the summer sun and your chest 
 curved ever so slightly toward the sky, like a baby opening
 her mouth, hungry to be nourished, completely trusting 
 her mother. As if just noticing it’s the light on in the room 
 that is keeping things from being dark, you look my way. 
 As you lean back with your arms wide in a heart-centered kiss 
 of communion, I sense your imagination unfolding like a flower.
 In the mirror of my being, you see your power, your beauty 
 and strength. You claim the truth: how you simply need to be,
 emanating your light, in phases, not always glowing in your
 full glory because sometimes you need to rest. 

Click HERE for an audio recording of the poem.

This poem is part of an online collection I call All the Shapes of Joy.

The Truth Is

 The Truth Is
 The truth is 
 she doesn’t have a single reason to believe she’s anything
 but worthless. The story repeated over
 & over: the father who left, the mother who followed 
 him in a drunken stupor, the family that claimed her 
 but grew tired of her rotting in selfish silence.  
 The truth is
 her behavior’s erratic. She acts in ways that’re random, 
 unpredictable, like one minute she sits cowering 
 in the corner and the next she’s shouting 
 at the spider who’s come too close. 
 The truth is 
 she wears her hatred like a robe, clothes herself in fathomless 
 fear, a terror that life will continue on
 like this for another day, 
 another year, another lifetime. 
 The truth is
 deep within her trembles a belief: there is more. 
 If she keeps moving toward the small flicker
 of light, like a little star sparkling inside her, 
 steady and deliberate, quiet, cautiously, 
 she will find that there really is no space
 for shame. 

I wrote this poem in response to a prompt in my workbook, How to Write Poetry: A Guided Journal with Prompts by Christopher Salerno and Kelsea Habecker, from the chapter on truth and lies that suggested writing a poem consisting of lies and a truth about yourself.

This poem is part of an online collection I call All the Shapes of Joy.