Friday, December 19, 2008

A Good Birth Day

The hand cannot grasp water
but two hands, cupped, catch it
The hands cannot make rain
but patience awaits it
and two hands, cupped, catch it.

Life is a flood
that overflows the borders
made by our hands
but still there is enough
to drink.

The hand does not grasp water
but the cup of the hands offers
as much water as the hands
can carry
to the lips.

A year is the span of rain and rivers
that two hands, open
receive within their borders
and carry
to the lips.

(This poem was written by my friend Mark Schultz, for my birthday in 2006. I just found it while looking through memorabilia this evening and cleaning out my bedroom closet. A treasure, Mark. Thank you.)

Sunday, December 14, 2008

What I Know Best

What I know best
is the darling way you talk with your hands,

the feel of your firm, warm cheek against mine.

What I know best
is the fly-free joyful noise of your gorgeous laughter,

the feel of your arm around my hip as I fade into the land of dreams.

What I know best
is the almost-but-not-quite cocky confidence of your sincerely passionate words,

the feel of your impossibly soft hands on my beaming face and in my hair.

What I know best
is everything you are, the magical light in your earthen eyes,

the feel of your ever-wounded, never failing, bigger-than-Life, container-of-Love heart.

I know you.

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Buon Compleanno, caro mia.

October 21, 2008

A blessing is a wondrous thing,
on this day I know,
your day of birth was one of those,
a star-filled night, just so.

A quiet little sapling he,
who barely said a thing,
he wasn't watered very much,
but to himself would sing.

Some trees grow so very strong,
to spite a lack of light,
and reach the tallest heights they can,
almost beyond our sight.

It takes a rare and gentle soul,
to turn into one who,
gives this sort of steadfast love,
though really taught not to.

So Happy Birthday, caro mia
there aren't enough words to start,
to describe the person you've become,
sharp mind, deep soul, true heart.

ti amo,
fiocco de neve

Thursday, September 18, 2008

Another Day (a song for Davi)

Under lights I see my life
funny how it looks in blue
Under moons from long ago
my heart leans into you.

It's another day
another day
my arms are empty still
another day
another day
I'll sigh, and then you will

In the dark I see my life
funny how it looks in black
Under stars from long ago
it seems you've got my back

Its another day
Another day
I long to lay with you
another day
another day
bittersweet things, we go through.

In whispers I hear my life
funny how it sounds in grey
Softly make me all your own
hold my hand through -

Another day
another day
I long to laugh with you
it's another day
another day
I hope you will, some way.

Sunday, August 24, 2008

Night Owl (a poem)

Under the gauze of moonlight, whose sleep is for the sane
heaviness of silken clouds gives way to autumn rain
summer's flowers fade again, but speak with no disdain
beauty is, and is again, with strength to thus remain.

Softly, they hold your name, dear one, as butterflies alight
barely a print, left in sand, the leaver of it, unknown
like stars expressed from mountain tops, twinkling white-hot bright
shine into eternity, to home, to home, to home.

Your Muse

Igniting ancient fires,





My breath,

gives flames

their fuel.

My body -



I am.

Your muse.

Thursday, August 21, 2008

When You Were a Little Boy

I just left my 9 year old son's room, where we snuggled together in the dark before sleep, as we've done since his birth.

I hope I never forget this moment:

Me: If you want to be an oceanographer, you'll probably want to go to college near the ocean.
Son: But I would miss you mama.
Me: Well, I'll just move there. I want to live at the ocean again anyway.
Son: We can never leave this house, mama.
Me: You can't be an oceangrapher in Iowa, there is no ocean here.
Son: I can study at the lake.
Me: But then you'd be a lakeographer.

silence . . .my son thinks about this.

The "night-night" music plays, and I feel his little body relax into sleepiness. I realize, as I sometimes do, that these nights are very numbered. In a year or two, more or less, he won't want me to cuddle with him at night, as it should be.

Me: When you are a big man, I will always remember the nights we listened to night-night music in the dark, when you were a little boy.

My son feels me crying, he can tell there are tears in my eyes, and he turns to look at me. We tickle each other and laugh.

Friday, August 01, 2008


That loved-up old
blue bear,
waits on your bed,
the keeper of your heart,
for now.

And I am here
listening to silence,
touching the space where you
breathe into the night.
I am learning
to miss you.

Saturday, July 26, 2008

Can you hear the rain? (a song)

Can you hear the rain?
It's falling all around again . .
Can you hear my heart?
It's falling all around again.

Time goes so slowly by,
all I want is to sing you a lullaby,
and no matter what I try,
I'm left far away, I sigh.

Can you hear the rain?
it's falling all around again . . .
Can you hear my heart?
It's calling you again.

This sweet and bitter distance,
I won't let it get us.
This love meets no resistance,
and it flows where it will, where it will.

Can you hear the rain?
it's falling all around again,
flooding where it's empty
I think of us, and float again.

Saturday, June 28, 2008

Some Things Just Are (a song for Davi)

See that moon up in our sky?
Does it ever ask why,
it shines on everything?
See that plane flying high?
Does it ever ask why,
it brings me back to you again?

We could ask a thousand questions
about this love and its directions,
but I don't need any reasons to know:
I'll be with you.

Some things just are
like the blazing sun and the stars,
like the ocean and the wind,
when you find your precious friend.
Some things just are,
you and me are one of those things,
my heart glows every time I look at you,
some things just are.

See that smiling rose in bloom?
Hear the stillness of this silent room?
Feel the wind say a thousand things?
Hear the music rock us to our little dreams?

Some things just are
like the sun and the stars,
like the ocean and the wind,
when you find your whispering friend.
Some things just are,
you and me are one of those things,
my heart glows every time I look at you,
some things just are.

It's Another Beautiful Day (a song for my cousin Casey)

My amazing cousin Casey Michael Niel Kent passed away recently. I didn't know him well as an adult, as his family moved away to Montana when we were all young, but he inspires me all the same. You can read and listen to more about Casey here:

I got home from work,
brought in the mail,
let the dog out,
like I always do . . .

then it hit me
like a tidal wave,
the world is less kind now,
it lost you.

But is it really so?
Is the day less magical
because we've let you go?

It's another beautiful day
isn't that what you would say?
take a flying leap into the sky,
it's another beautiful day.
Isn't that what you'd want me to say?
The sun is still here, somehow
it's another beautiful day.

I rushed to the northbound train
passed her with
her seeing eye dog last week
and I thought of you,

walked back some steps
just to ask if she needed help,
what would Casey do?
what would you do?

It's another beautiful day
you wouldn't have it any other way,
it doesn't take much, just to be kind,
it's another beautiful day.
Close your weary eyes,
and open your mind,
it's another beautiful day.

Sunday, May 18, 2008

Perfect Sunday Morn (a song)

Breathe yourself into me
take my hand in yours,
take your sweet time
and don't let go, love,
on this perfect Sunday morn.

This bed is the best place
in the world right now,
(yes, it really is)
in the space between
a whisper and a kiss,
on this perfect Sunday morn.

This might be my favorite day
that ever came to be,
I get the chance to hold
and pray and dance you
on this perfect Sunday morn.

Shelter me with all you are
cradle me at last,
touch me up to heaven,
place your heart in mine
I'll bury mine in yours,
on this perfect Sunday morn.

Let's always feel like this
maybe just one more perfect kiss,
on this shining Sunday morn.

Sunday, April 27, 2008

Musti the Teddy Bear

When my son was about 1 year old, maybe less, a small bright blue bear came hurtling through the atmosphere on his way to my son's crib. He was on a mission to be Max's companion and best friend, through thick and thin. He was sent from the Blue Planet to befriend the most special, funniest, smartest, most beautiful child he could find. He found Max. His blue rocket landed in the alley near my house. I took him inside and put him in my son's crib.

Max and Musti have been steadfast companions through thick and thin, for about 10 years now. There is something innocently sweet and insanely beautiful about the many photos of Max holding Musti. Some of them, I’ve surreptitiously taken while Max slept. I probably won’t show them to Max’s prom date, I couldn’t violate the sanctity of the Max/Musti relationship that way.

Friday, April 18, 2008

Indigo (a poem)

Sleepy skin on sleepy skin,
cheek to chest, I breathe you in,
to the land of Nod we're halfway up,
when desire drips, tips the cup.

Wanting spills all over us,
a darkened, hushed, and crimson lust,
mix of chemistry and trust,
we mustn't, too tired, but then,

we must.

Reaching deep inside you find,
the lock is turned, I unwind,
exotic olive on alabaster,
find my heart, spinning faster.

Glowing moon above,
illuminates this scene of love,
delicious feelings bodies know,
whispering sighs in indigo.

Thursday, February 21, 2008

Dang, these are good!

I do believe these might be the best chocolate chip cookies I've ever eaten, and that's saying something. The recipe came from, where I've discovered all sorts of formulas for yummy food lately.

Do pop over there and take a look . . .Heidi's recipes are generally healthy whole foods, prepared in simple, delicious ways (with enough in the "chocolate" category to satisfy even me.) The Carmelized Tofu and Brussel Sprouts is entirely delish as well! Try it!

Wednesday, February 06, 2008

When I Am Old and Wise (a song)

When I am old and wise,
when the years melt away disguise,
when light illuminates freckled alabaster skin,
will I be there, will I have learned to let the sun in?

When this heart has walked a million miles,
and I count the fears and the tearful smiles,
when it all starts to fade, slowly rosy blue,
will I share a gentle, fiery bed with you?

When the ocean comes to carry me away,
there is no sorrow left and only days of play,
whispers echo on the moonlit waves at night,
shooting stars carry delicate messages of light.

When this old heart has walked a million miles,
and learned to breathe deeply and smile ancient smiles,
every day we'll walk holding hands and kissing
young lovers think "what do they have that we are missing?"

When I am old and very, very wise,
when sunset illuminates these green eyes,
I'll shine everything I've learned to be,
a sparkling prism of white love, that will be me.

Saturday, January 19, 2008

Some Things Never Change (a song)

I don't pretend to understand how my marriage unraveled over the years, but it did. I was thinking about that today and feeling another wave of grief. Grieving is such a strange process, hitting you at the most random times and when you least expect it.

Some Things Never Change

Some things never change
and some things do,
that's what I was whispering
the day I left you.

My heart still breaks sometimes
and I love you still,
Some things never change
and some things will.

When we first fell into this
and I was your girl,
gifts you gave to me so well,
the music in your world.

As time ran hurriedly by
we sang the saddest lullaby.
Some things never change
and some things do.

Over all that time,
no reason and no rhyme,
what was once so sublime
turned bittersweet.
The tears began to fall,
the flood broke every wall,
some things never change
and some things do.

Dust has settled down,
I see so clearly now
where I went so wrong
where I'm to blame.
Lessons to have learned,
into whispered memory burned,
some things never change
and some things do.

I Watch You Breathe (a song)

I rarely find the words to talk about my son. All of them seem so inadequate. This song sang itself to me on a bus from Logan Airport the other day and I was grateful for it.

I Watch You Breathe

I held you when you could not walk
I held you when you could not see
I watched you learn to crawl
and hoped you'd be what you could be

Never felt joy so shimmering gold
as when you smiled at me
in the night when I couldn't sleep
I would watch you breathe

Someone knew what they were doing
when I was handed you
you're the colors of the rainbow
the world in those eyes bright blue

And I know I'll never get this right
I can only try
my gold statue might never come,
but I sang the world's best lullaby

Can I teach you all the things
you need to live in peace?
Let your heart fly south for winter's warmth
like a thousand dark gray geese

I never feel a joy so shining gold
as when you laugh with me
and when I can not sleep at night
I still watch you breathe

Yes, when I want the world to stop
I still watch you breathe.