My Old Friends

My Old Friends

At the end of this Thanksgiving weekend, I went looking for an old poem that was coming back to me. I feel the same way today as I felt then about my old friends. This one’s for you. My Old Friends Memories bubble light to the surface Pockets of air in a pool— A...
Yellow Orchids

Yellow Orchids

My mother is in the orchidsthe tiny yellow orchidsthat Teresita gave meafter my mother died I don’t know how my friend knewthat in the spirit of the orchidmy mother’s spirit grew. She kept them in her companyat all times, and arranged her homearound them, with...
Spelling the Spell OUT

Spelling the Spell OUT

These days I’ve been thinking a great deal about spells. What sort of power is running through us when we cast negative spells in life? I’ve heard many people say that it feels good to express their rage because they get their power back. The problem is that...
Walk Into Spring! A Poem

Walk Into Spring! A Poem

Why do I not walk into spring? Do the forsythia and daffodils not speak to me?Nor the warming sun, the bursting lilacAnd the waiting garden under leaf? Does the rose on my balconyWho has braved the bitter winterNot embolden me? Am I not surprisedTo see the plant...
Beauty’s Beast

Beauty’s Beast

When my friend Sage Walker was exploring Beauty and the Beast in my workshops, she got to know Beauty very well. Beauty made a good first impression, and Sage, like most of us, admired her. But after a while, her attitude started to change. She found her too...

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