Peace Work

In mourning I awaken

To find the work unraveled

So, I pick up the threads

One, then another

Between finger and thumb

And begin, again

Braiding kindness into the day

One act of peace

A simple decency

A mitzvot

A good deed

One, then another

Weaving a rope of tensegrity

Of compassion

A life line of humanity

Connecting our world

To the Divine


yesterday I was going to meditate
but found myself on instead
where I bought a meditation pillow
a cushion for my tush to rest upon
because how could I ever expect
to reach full enlightenment
on anything less than Indian silk
lotus in full bloom embroidered
beneath my ischium

today I was going to meditate
but I wrote this poem instead


a good book is like a good lover
it’s easy to get lost between the covers
swept into an alternate reality
holding your attention

you do not fall into it
you open to it
tugging intimately at your soul
ending always, too soon
before you want to let go

depositing you back
into ordinary life
with the words still deep
swimming inside you
longing for more

The Angst of Spring

a counsel of conspirators
plot to force my bloom
a rumble of excitement
feeling shoots crown the soil’s surface
it’s too much
all this hope
all this possibility
that I could grow tall and open
risking everything known
my fear of being picked
detached from my root
it’s suicide
but so is staying small
ankylosing underground


we were cousins
in our underoos
emblazoned with cotton courage
superman, aqua-man
I changed
in the bathroom
marveled at my own transformation
I became a wonder of a woman
in my 6 year old
heroine underthings
justly we united
we saved them all
invincible 1970’s children
we saved ourselves
truth ensnarled bad guys
within the looping of my golden lasso
those fascists
those corrupt power hungry villains
who foolishly grew up
and abandoned childish dreaming