Pursuing the poetical, paradoxical, metaphorical, lyrical, artistical, majestical, and mystical.

Sunday, January 25, 2015

Making Driftwood




Claw off my bark 
tumble me on rocks
drag me under 
soften my edges 
polish my grain

float me

shrink my bulk
sand my rough ends
shave off my broken limbs
smooth my knots 
skin me 

find me 
washed up
on a lonely beach 
where owls and stars 
watch as you
put me in your pocket
like a treasure 

Saturday, January 24, 2015

Wooden Boats



Small hands
clasped around
wooden boats
put the final
touch of gladness
on my day. Kids still
do? Make wooden
boats that float?
And play?








Seattle Boat Show January 2015. If you haven't checked out the intriguing and hospitable website of Whitehall Row,  do so. They had a great booth. People seemed curious about the Tango 14' and Tango 17'. I'm beyond curious at this point. I need one. When you see one of their boats in real life, they are even more beautiful than the pictures. I wish I had a pearl of great price, I'd sell it and buy one….yesterday. 

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Growing Wings

The nubs are ready
to break through.
They itch and itch
and itch.

I understand how
a yearling's antlers
need a rough
rub on bark to
shred the velvet
casing.

Do you remember
as a child finding
a discarded feather?

If it had separated
into shaggy disorder
we'd lick our fingers
and stroke it with
the grain until the
minute barbs grabbed
each other smooth,
no splits.

I wonder if my
new wings will
need to unfold,
dry out, soar
with strength and
stamina? Will they
need groomed? If
a feather falls, I will
sharpen the shaft
and fill the
quill with ink.

Saturday, January 17, 2015

I Love Where I Live I & II

People come from all over
the world to see the green
lushness in our Pacific
Northwest Paradise

I start to despise the rain
maker's gift come February

Today I met a hearty
and wholesome woman who
told me she likes walking
in the rain

Her eyes lit up and her face
shimmered as she spoke

I didn't know what to say until
my winter excuses for sedentary
inactivity launched the usual
complaint about wet
feet and cold dampness
soaking into my bones

Puzzled, she asked if I had
waterproof hiking boots and a
good quality waterproof but
not rubber type raincoat

I looked puzzled back at her
and shook my head negative
because I had never imagined
wanting to walk in the rain

This woman gave me
a new perspective and changed
my mind

I went straightway to REI
and spent time buying waterproof
mid boots and a comfortable
raincoat

Today I decided to enjoy
walking in the rain

I stayed warm and decided
again - I love where I live






I love where I live
because trains round the bend
on the beach where girls with
pink buckets find treasure

couples walk hand in hand
past families toasting hotdogs
over bonfires

ferries and tugs churn through
water carrying passengers
and cargo bound for islands
shrouded in mist

seagulls scream
and the lighthouse
shines a token light

cups of clam chowder warm our
hands as the sun sets low

the paddle boarder
finds his way home
across the straight

divers waddle
into dark water
and light up the deep
looking for geoduck














I kidnapped Craig early from work last Wednesday and carted him off around the bend and down the hill to the Mukilteo Silvercloud - room 335. Easy. Close. Effortless. Waterfront bliss. A room with a view, a double tub, a fireplace and love…. 

Twenty six years of a workable, doable, enjoyable marriage. We celebrated with Clam Chowder on the beach. We thought of going over to the pub and getting a beer, but got distracted and side tracked with 
loving each other. And dreaming of what the future may hold….






Monday, January 12, 2015

Love Notes in the Sky

My Belovedness
graduated from
heart shaped rocks
rainbows
eagles
seals
whales
shooting stars
and pennies
to murmerations
outdoing themselves
leaving traces of
sacred fingerprints
and conversation bubbles
from God








Compline at St. Marks III

Who will play the organ
when he's gone? Are
young organists being
trained who'll slide onto
his bench and make
it sing?






















Tribute to Bill and Roxy Giddings 




Compline at St. Mark's II

Sitting in the quiet
unfinished cathedral
waiting with other pilgrims
and recovering pharisees
for the Compline Choir
to file in and form a singing
circle in the only lit corner
of the nave, I look up
and ponder --
what pithy phrases
would Montaigne
have inscribed
on these wooden beams
a-plenty --

if he could have
reached them?


Compline at St. Marks I

Five hundred pilgrims
fill Seattle's St. Marks
on Sunday night. Pure
notes echo high and low.
Peace washes over the
things that make us
different.
Full pews carry notes
along rows of vibrating
wood grain. The pipes
wait with lips quivering
to have their bellies
filled with breath.
Ivory waits for hands
to caress the keys.
Pedals long for dancing
feet. Organs have a heart
too. Evensong ends.
Organ music commences.










Sunday, January 4, 2015

Tacoma Waterfront

We have friends who had a dream to live on a sailboat. They accomplished it this fall. We witnessed the process. This weekend we shared our first meal together onboard. I loved walking along the docks. We felt lucky to celebrate with them. The sea lions seemed happy and curious at the proceedings…...