Embedded in the way we move
is the spirit of all Creation.

From top to bottom,
in all directions,
is the movement of the Spiral.

As we whirl and sing the songs
that rise to raise the soul we grow,

from every corner
of Earth and Sky,
the Spiral Dance keeps rhythm.


Awaiting. . .

Awaiting a heartbeat. . .
A sign to show
the life I gave
is not fading away.

Awaiting a breath. . .
Some gasp at
the air that won’t
be choked off.

Awaiting a movement. . .
Something to show me
that the mechanism
hasn’t burned out.

Awaiting a spark. . .
A flash in the eye
that lets me know
all will be okay.

Awaiting a passing. . .

The Serpent & The Crow

We talk in silent circles
as the weariness sets in
and all the wonder
shared in secret
vanishes in the crowd.

We walk with kings
who make commandments
under which, we abide.
But away from law,
out of sight of governance,
there is nothing for us to hide.

How should the crow,
who knows all secrets,
fly when his wings are bedded down?

How should the serpent
crawl upon the earth
if its belly never touches the ground?

Walt Whitman Is Dead

Walt Whitman is dead
and WE have killed him.

By denying the soul,
refusing to sing,

by cloaking ourselves in craftiness
and offering ourselves
to the lowest of drives,

we have killed the man
who would have us sing,

who taught us to sing
with a barbaric YAWP!
from the rooftops of the world.

Walt Whitman is dead
and we have killed him.

Raven’s Bread

There was food
in the raven’s beak
and shiny objects

he had left for me,
gifts for the crumbs
I had fed to him,

scattered at his feet.

Tied to his leg
was a slip of paper

which he let me take.

Written on it was
a simple message:

“You are not alone.”

The raven dropped
the crust of bread
he held in his beak

and lifted himself
from the ground.

Why I Love The Rain


Rain gives me time for reflection.

Rain makes me slow down.

Rain lets me know that it’s okay to seek shelter.

Rain makes a hot cup of coffee taste even better.

Rain makes me appreciate what’s “in here”, rather than constantly searching for something “out there”.

Rain makes me realize the value of a warm, dry place to sleep.

Rain makes it okay to curl up with a good book.

Rain washes.

Rain cleanses.

Rain nurtures.

Rain moves.

Rain gives the gift of stillness.