You go forth from time to time, place to place, open & eager for all you can feast upon, dancing with words to have the resources to peal through for things to sing, songs to write, thoughts to share.

It's always a surprise & delight to see what happens, how it happens, what gets chosen, what gets said & then what it all means; and they mean more & more as the years go by, speaking in code to my warm gentle self. Feeding me at every age on every page with every bit of light & hope & reassurance to lead me forward to enjoy more & more. Explore. Drink in, listen hard, feel well, ease stress. Complain less.

It is mighty to have a life, be in these bodies. A blessing to be alive, a miracle to be breathing & writing & playing all that I do.

Peak

Let's time eat more

When Rise moon sing 

Laugh you dance me

Smile possess

Start wanna clap some doggie's fun doin' 

Mention yours mention ours

Heaps jollys

Now expect, hearts connect, cheeky doing

Peak!

Speak To Me

One of my just keep your pen moving blurbs that could almost be a poem

Sept. 9, 2002

If I rearrange the letters I can sculpt new words & how delicious it would be
to take power over my own blue will.
I could create a gorgeous vision, chant chocolate in the only moment that is a cool boil.
And with a tiny stare see past my crushing ache, trudge out of the sad sky & dream no rust.

See I am in the forest wind where the air moans true. See I am on the sand where the ocean lathers often to the sun & it did. I can hear love & fill my needy mind. I can breathe hope & answer the winter scream in the only moment as puppies do.

You who are there in the wind moaning true.
You who are there on the sand breathing hope, words chasing rain, eating fog, whispering candidly ~ speak to me.

Wild Geese

I love the sound of Geese, like clarinets in the sky. i have recorded them as they flew over head & put them in my song, All The Words.

Wild Geese
by Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.


from Dream Work by Mary Oliver