change

be the Change, Gandhi said
and yet we hate it
we resist it 
we scream and shake our fists at it

we say we want it
but then it hurts
it's different, it's not
what we've always known

we nourish our fears
we kindle our anger
we kick and scream
we believe the lies

of those who say
we don't need

to change

when i was a child
i spoke like a child
i reasoned like a child
but

when I became an adult
i put away childish things

i got taller
my limbs longer
my hips rounder
my feet bigger

and i had to act like an adult

i am different today
than i was yesterday
and tomorrow
yet again

yesterday it was warm
today the leaves are gone
and it is bitter cold
yet soon

everything will be green
again

why do i resist
what is natural?

why am i afraid
of the marvel of
recreation? 

would i keep my child
in the womb?
would i keep that stick in the ground
from becoming majestic and strong?

would i insist
a caterpillar
remain earthbound?

be the change
comes the whisper
from the past
embrace the change

says the music of the wind

release your grip
breathe through your fears
ride the life of creation
metamorphasis

becoming
releasing
emerging
empowering

the breath of life
keeps breathing
the winds of creation
make new

do not be afraid
it is as it should be
as it was meant
to be

all along.

poem

People are walking around
texting, googling, facebooking
eyes to the screen
in an unreal world

while that tree over there
is on fire
brilliant orange, red, yellow
lighting up the sky

wild turkeys are waddling around
the rest stop
picking at each other
wondering where to hide in November

deer wandering the shaven cornfields
vulnerable, delicate
unaware, perhaps, that the calendar
creeps frighteningly toward hunting season

an old man holds the shriveled hand
of an old woman
sitting by the lake
bundled up against November chill

savoring each day
knowing that winter comes
bones ache, hearts beat irregularly
and every moment now is a gift

a squirrel stops and stares at me
wondering whether to run
hoping I will not approach
goes this way and that

and I laugh

as a child
I stood at my window
looking at the light across the way
my first longing, my first heartache

loving, dreaming
that he would wait for me
to grow up
and our names would share a line

the only way to survive
was to write my childish passion
my truest feelings
that seemed silly out loud

or to live in a world
so achingly beautiful
so tender and astonishing
not understanding why so many others

didn't notice

the only way I survived
was to write
to fashion words around
my soul

lest it be consumed

and then that first time
that first loss
that shattered the very ground
on which I stood

when my heart was mere
fragments laying broken
in so many irreconcilable pieces
around me

cancer and death
the first disillusioning blow
to my dreams
and hopes

oh god

i wouldn't be here
if i couldn't put one word
in front of the other
pouring out my heart

like blood on paper

my prayers
my keening
my fists shaken at
a silent sky

all on paper

an offering

given
so that i may be redeemed. 

Love Poem To October

wind blows
pushing leaves
off the branches
orange trembling to hold on

half-naked trunks
shivering in the coming winter
or are they afraid
of a tempestuous lashing?

it's your last day
we say farewell
to the oranges and reds
yellows and browns

litttering the canvas
of our days
wood smoke lacing the air
as a warning of cold descending

i will miss you
the carefree days
of In-Between Time
remembering and anticipating

crisp air
that doesn't bite
combines in the fields
bringing the harvest home

the darkness at dawn
is coming with dread
empty creation
huddled in for snow

this year must be
different
i will not give in
to winter

"think of the happiest
memory, Harry"
cover yourself
with joy and warmth

be fierce with
resolve
not to let the darkness
consume

before spring.