Tourmaline and Amethyst

Going down with autumn,
following the rain
along the bedrock
to deep river roots,
the fault line of ages past
marks the way to inner earth,
dark caverns of crystal
where heartbeat and breathing
slow to rest, to learn
the old magic of winter.
Here darkness teaches
to see where there is no light,
where water rises from stone
and the wisdom of silence
hangs in the cool damp air.
In tourmaline and amethyst,
obsidian and malachite
the ancient world
holds the knowledge
of what has been
and may yet be
for the days when the earth
will once again open.




photo from


Time Capsule

Aged and mellow
like the leaves of autumn,
the drift into sleep,
stooping shoulders
and faltering balance
the body’s winter
with its blanket of cold,
gray fog on the rivers,
the stark outline of crows.
As the sun drops
deep into the south,
the shortened days
and long nights
lead me to the message
you left behind, buried
in the soft tissue of my body,
wanting me to remember
after the fires burned out
and the rain soaked ashes
dissolved into darkened loam.
With the pain and fury years gone by
like white rushing water,
the time capsule unpacks
the soft fur of your animal,
the forgotten touch of kindness
forming new words on the old stone
glimmering in faded light.
The earth bowl of your altar
burnished and gold
glows as the incense sparks
and lifts into the winter sky,
free to go where the high winds go,
your memory kept safe
in the forest of my mind.




What the Earth Says

The winds of November
rake through the valley,
clearing the trembling trees,
whistling down chimneys,
lifting the rivers.
Geese will come soon
from the far north
to feed off broad stubbled fields
as ice and snow climb down
from high peaks.
The fog machine
continues its message –
stay busy and buy,
yet turning away
to what the earth says
will warm us if we listen
through winter dark.



glass sculpture by Linda Ethier


Knowing the Unbroken

Cut from whole cloth
the unbroken lives
beyond the clutch of madness,
the villains of time.
In these few moments
before we depart
with a soft final breath,
to labor toward wholeness
is our link to the stars.




encaustic art by Eilish Hynes