Wednesday, April 18, 2018

bodies in motion

and then there is that moment
when i find myself moving beyond words
and imbedded in the smell of your skin

this is where i make the stories grow
as our breathing fills the room
and we are buried under this glorious sky

there is always the unexpected
joy of repetition as we return to this moment
wrapping our bodies around it with grace

Tuesday, April 17, 2018


there’s something about your name.
i wish i could say
it is always on my lips.
it is not.

it requires attention
to fix my thoughts on you.

a reminder of all that is good.
rehearsing the story
only gets me so far

searching for the edges
the threat of the sacred.

Monday, April 16, 2018

this is a sword

this is a sword
it has two edges
they are equally sharp

this is a symbol
a metaphor
for words

words need a home
a sheath of some sort
perhaps a body

we can share a bed
keep the lights on
lose ourselves

there are wounds
there are scars
we can share dreams

hope is an anchor
that too is a metaphor
let it be a home

fear is a sword
where is it buried
close that door

Sunday, April 15, 2018


I wish it could always be like this.
Good food and conversations
about art, deep and honest questions
exploring meaning and
the artist’s responsibility.
Passion and laughter fill the room
as we share the afternoon.

As it bleeds into evening
I only wish we could speak more
about all these things, more often,
openly. Engaging the ideas
that shape the world, that
challenge us to change, to begin
a different conversation again and again.

Saturday, April 14, 2018


The morning brings its weight
as I sit and sip my coffee, and
butter my ontbijtkoek.
There’s still snow on the ground

and it’s mid-April.
No sign of tulips
or crocuses, only
patches of yellowed grass.

My wife joins me
in the silence of the house
for her quiet time--
books piled next to her,

tea hot and steeping.
My children sleep still
or are quietly reading.
This is a season change

the earth tilted 23.5 degrees
on its vertical axis,
northern hemisphere
tilted towards the sun

bathed in light.
I can only sit and wait--
describe the day,
break it into pieces.