Driving home last night from a lovely, sweet Yule ritual -- and a wonderful time afterward with friends, laughter, stories -- a couple of lines from this were wandering through my head.  Those lines are still there this afternoon, so I decided to post this.

Blessings of Light and Love to all of you!

In a Tree House

Light
Will someday split you open
( Read more... )

...from Ploughshares

by Meredith Stricker

What if we could look at language as matter

[as real and outside our imagining as granite or cedar trees]and move inside words, the way particle physicists break ( Read more... )

Lines For Winterby Mark Strand ( Read more... )

Then too there is this
by J. Allyn Rosser

joy in the day's being done, however
clumsily, and in the ticked-off lists,
the packages nestling together,
no one home waiting for dinner, for
you, no one impatient for your touch
or kind words to salve what nightly
rises like heartburn, the ghost-lump feeling
that one is ( Read more... )

( Read more... )

October

by Jacob Polley

Although a tide turns in the trees
       the moon doesn't turn the leaves,
though chimneys smoke and blue concedes
       to bluer home-time dark.

Though restless leaves submerge the park
       in yellow shallows, ankle-deep,
and through each tree the moon shows, halved
       or quartered or complete,

the ( Read more... )

I seem to be reading a lot of poetry lately;  or a lot of poetry seems to be coming to my attention.

I just came across this:

Click to view

The Laughing Heart by Charles Bukowski

your life is your life
don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is a light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the ( Read more... )

I read this one several times in the woods this last week...

" God is in the Details," Says Mathematician Freeman J. Dyson
by Pattiann Rogers

This is why grandmother takes such tiny
stitches, one stitch for each dust mote
of moon on the Serengeti at night, and one-half
one stitch for each salt-fetch of fog
following the geometries of eelgrass
in fields ( Read more... )

from Pattiann Rogers.

This Day, Tomorrow, And The Next
When the blind and the deaf walk
together into the forest, one of them
understands the blackness of light
on a clear day. The other understands
the deep reach of stillness in a riot of green.

Both alike feel on their faces
the floating threads and tatters
of occasional sun passing through
the canopy of ( Read more... )

Gus diZerega posted this recently on his Beliefnet blog, and I've been thinking about it while I've been outside raking the lawn, so I figured I'd pass it along.

Catechism for a Witch's Child

When they ask to see your gods
your book of prayers
show them lines
drawn delicately with veins
on the underside of a bird's wing
tell them you believe
in giant ( Read more... )