Almost Paradisical

Pursuing the poetical, paradoxical, metaphorical, lyrical, artistical, noetical and mystical.

Sunday, June 28, 2015

There Shall Be Showers

Chickadees chase each other
over and under the sprinkler's
spray. They shimmy and shake
cool water over their panting
bodies, making child's play
out of summer's harsh heat.

Thursday, June 11, 2015


A tender stem
supple with spring
blossoms a white dance
high above the sea.

She sways into salty
spray without missing a step
or breaking the wind's strenuous
rhythm requirements.

Her precarious position,
by implication, grants
her leave for careful,
cautious living.

I'd excuse her
for keeping still.
I'd give her permission
to play it safe.
But there she is bravely
dancing alone
on the edge
with only one leg.

Friday, May 29, 2015

Lace Wings

His hands - tender
and big and calloused
cradled the lacewing
struggling to loosen
the web's sticky throttle
hold. Released, its gossamer
shadow flies off into the night.

His hands - tender,
and big and calloused
have likewise saved me
from entrapment. He opens
doors - setting me free. His yes
face and shining eyes assure
my return. He is my home, my light.

Thursday, May 28, 2015


Itinerate trobairitz
available to

tell stories
write poems

set tables
light candles

sing songs
compose meals

arrange flowers
kindle fires

hold your aching heart
catch your tears

kiss and wave Godspeed
on this sacred, perilous journey.

Wednesday, May 27, 2015

Testing for Marine Grade

Certified marine grade plywood
used for boats is stress
tested by boiling,
freezing, boiling again
and freezing once more.

The layers must stand up to pressure
without the lamination springing apart
under duress. It's not impervious
to water, but if joints and surfaces
are finished properly it
will stand up to wet and damp
without leaking as long
as maintenance requirements
are met.

I'm his workmanship, his poema.
He must have ordered marine grade
to build me. I feel some ribs creak
and the hull shudder, but I'm holding
together, maintaining momentum.
Elasticity keeps me from the scrap heap.

Monday, May 25, 2015

I recently heard about a young girl
who left food for crows who visited
her yard. The grateful
birds started leaving gifts -
stolen gifts, but over time the stash
makes an impressive collection - shiny
trinkets and odd bits.

My curiosity is growing
about a crow who's voice makes me shudder.
My curiosity is growing
about a crow with robber instincts.

I'm becoming friends with an amiable
and mutually curious, black-winged,
strong beaked, bold bird who visits
my back yard and bullies the robins. I know

changing my mind is doable. A clerk in a hat
shop helped when she plopped a black,
straw boater on my crown. It's cute - look in the
mirror, she said. The hat changed my
mind about a belief I'd held a long time.
I didn't think I could wear hats.
If I can wear hats - might I
learn to like crows? This could be

Thursday, May 21, 2015


Scott Cairns' forays
into holy mountain
pilgrimages and noetic
explorations leave the
edges of my soul wild
with yearnings girdled
by envy -- envy neither
green nor curdled.

Trees wait for children ...