goddess #48

sisters - separated by endless loops of razor wire that sparkle in the sun

me - free to come and go, to make the countless small decisions that determine my life

you - confined by endless rules and the barked commands of crackley loud speakers,

indecipherable to me, but understood by you, the result of long practice and necessity.

and yet, we are the same.

it could have been me on your side of the wire if causes and conditions had been different.

it could have been you on this side.

and so we breathe slowly, in and out

sense our bodies sitting here, alive in this very moment

and learn to be free and to know that we are one.

goddess #47

a beaver dam dressed in green - 

strawberries, blueberries, moss, and ferns.

the lake three feet above where i stand with an eerie sense

of the built and the unbuilt.

earlier mineral hard land gave way to delicate new ferns, then rich forest humus . . 

then opened to this vista of water, lilies, and trees.

i am touched by tiny winged beings 

and remember how many of them there are compared to us -

some incredible number of times our biomass-

and i can only stop
and breathe it all in

as an inchworm makes her way across my page.

goddess #46

a pause

in this day that cycles between downpour and brilliance

the kind of day where there might be a rainbow

but isn't

only the wet lushness of green moss

mist rising from the earth

and a thousand other shades of green

gladdened by the arrival of sudden storms.

goddess #45

geese inhabit the parking lot this morning

"school's out for summer"

or at least the day after the 4th of july.

here at the edge of the marsh

i celebrate interdependence . . . 

bird calls reverberate in my heart,

sun warms my skin,

i breathe in as all around me exhales . . . 

a dragonfly flashes a brilliant wing as it lights

and small creatures everywhere go about their business

of keeping life going.