File this under dispatches from living in a liminal time. Semantics of Propagation We could see with our own eyes cracks in the old vocabulary. How the history pages, turned brown at the edges, peeled loose from their leather binding in search of a new story. The...
The moon is pregnant, her belly bulging out to here. As darkness descends, she rises, casting her mysterious glow over the earth. Isn’t that what we all want? To feel full beyond measure? To give birth to wha i’s perfect and lovely, to shine brightly, and to have...
With a full moon strapped to her back, she stakes down a flapping corner of sky, slip-knotting home to a low horizon. She gathers tinder from the duff, ignites it with the sharp note of a nocturnal hymn. Her skirt is singed; she stands too close to the fire, but she...
I have always had “a foot in both worlds,” the physical one and the Unseen, the latter feeling more like home to me than this one. I have long stopped trying to get people to understand that aspect of myself. I use the term mystic, as sort of a shorthand for a deep...
The world shrieks and clamors for out attention. Sometimes it’s hard to know what’s going on with us. I want to share something I do that helps center me, especially effective if I’m feeling anxious, agitated, bored, restless or depressed. It’s...
