Category: Poetry

Imagineif all you had to doto be beautiful was to let the wind dance you where you stand as you grow into the only shapeyou ever had. Here’s the little tree that helped inspire this poem: This little poem is about a shivering little tree near the top of a mountain. But it’s also about… Continue reading Let the Wind

When I first wrote this poem I thought it would be the beginning of a longer piece, something with more of a redemptive arc. I tried and tried to find the rest of the poem, but nothing else fit. Reading it now, I love that it stops where it does. That it doesn’t try to… Continue reading A poem about life’s fearsome autumns (and surviving them)

I wrote this poem about a month ago while watching the sky one evening. It was based mostly on an intuition and a gathering sadness about all we’re losing in the world. I wasn’t sure if or how I was going to share it. But then today the New York Times published this article: Birds… Continue reading Look to the Sky

When Elizabeth and I were planning our wedding ceremony we wanted to acknowledge the uncertainty we were stepping into—the unknowable decades ahead, the mysterious ways we’d both change, the inevitable seasons of exile and loss right alongside those of connection and joy. So we decided to say a second set of vows. We called them… Continue reading Vows to the Mystery

This is the poem I wrote for my wedding. I spent months on it. And on Saturday I finally got to see it do its work in the world when we used it to open our wedding ceremony. Elizabeth and I both wanted to stay away from talk of “becoming one” in our ceremony, with… Continue reading The Space Between Us

This is a poem of permission. A lot of people wish they could push pause for a little while, but they’re afraid to show any uncertainty about the life they’ve constructed for themselves. They’re afraid it would mean they’ve failed. That they’ll be forgotten. That they’ll disappear. But if you don’t step back sometimes, chances… Continue reading The First Promise

Looking up through the windshield atdark wings and a white headcrossing high above I-5. “Just a seagull,” I hear myself say—permission tolose interest, permission to shut downthe aqueducts of wonder. How quickly I abandon my enchantment like it’sa grenade about to bloom or a great eyeopening. Because really I know that the shape of those… Continue reading Permission to Lose Interest