I believe that we all have stories and that our lives are poems we live every day. Our stories don’t have to be grand and glorious or broad and sweeping. They can be small and soft and ordinary.
Category: writing
Each day I worship in the templeof the ordinary anddiscover anew how extraordinary it is.…
Perhaps we are all wild plums
in this now.
Doggedly taking root,
despite stones
and storms…
I have made vows to the wild,spontaneous and sweeping,some forgotten,some bone deep,promises to listen,to follow,to…
I found two crow wings in the woods,a few thin bonesand other feathers scattered around…
Today frost flowerscaught my eyeand led me off the road,each new ribbonof curled wonderinviting a…
May you breathe deepand let peace fill you.May you exhale long and slowand let memory…
It is now that we draw closeto the crone of winter,to her warm hearthand nourishing…
Today, the frost on the boardsof the deck glows like silver stars.The sky is pale…
Celebrating my new book, In the Temple of the Ordinary, a book celebrating everyday enchantment,…