Category: Poetry

Some wintersare so longyou can forgetwhat spring does until it does it.

Sometimes your nexthalting stepis more powerfulthan the grandest vision. All a leaf knowsabout building a treeis to turn towards the light.

I’m not saying it’s been easy,this life. Harder, in fact,than you ever expected.What I’m saying is thatevery one of your morningshas been met by the sun rising.Every time you made a dollarit was met by an apple,whose firm white flesh—a partnership of tree and rain,of sunlight and farmer and soil—is no different than a miracle.What… Continue reading What I’m Trying to Say

You are notthis runted little treeshiver-dancing near the topof an overlooked mountain,fated to the thin, rockysoil of your life. But imagine if you were. Imagine if all you had to doto be beautifulwas to let the wind dance you where you standas you grow intothe only shapeyou ever had.

Come to the table even if you’re starving,even if all you have to offeris the weight of what never grew. Did you know a tree can break under the burden of its own fruit? What you carry as shamewill be a feastin the right mouth.Your honest emptinessdrips with harvest.

Sometimes you walkaway from yourselffor years, convincedthat what you’re buildingis your life,unable anymoreto tell your own voicefrom all the many voicesyou’ve tried on,unable to hearyour own voiceat all. And you know nowthe route backwill be terrible,through every tender wastelandyou’ve been desperateto avoid,and with allyour many defensesdroppedright herein a pile where you stand,where you finallyturned aroundand… Continue reading The Way Back

This is the seasonfor disappearing. Slip away to where no one knows to find you. Meet yourself right where you’ve always hungered to be met. Now’s the time to cheaton all the names you’ve taught the world to call you, to be unfaithful to who you thought you wantedto become. Plan a hundred secret rendezvouswith the delicious stranger you’re discovering yourself to be. Don’t tell a… Continue reading Tradecraft

I’m not asking youto come down hereand clean out the muddy corners of my life. I’m asking you to be a forestwhere mud and leaves,shadows and light,growth and decayall have their unquestioned belonging. I’m asking you to be an ocean,where even great stormsdon’t trouble the depthsand each tear is welcomedas a homecoming. I’m asking youto be as… Continue reading How to Listen

Now, for a while, the darkstays dark. The long nightswill be long no matter how you pray for light. This god will not be rushed. But she will offer you the thick black folds of her cloakwhere you’re finally freeto lose everythingthat can’t be kept.