Until I Return

Gray seas, gray skies, wind over water
as ocean reclaims the inland sea.
Trees fall to their roots
drinking deeply of the early rain.
I gather my regrets and drop them
into the swirling cove
for the crabs to feast.
Carrying what I can
I journey back to the mainland,
the memory of salt and horizon
stored for winter.
Don’t blame my complaints,
there are bird wings in my thoughts
of moonlight and silence.
I settle in beside the fire
but don’t forget you,
dark nights and earth spirits
with me until I return.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reading of “Until I Return” with music by Boccherini

 


Leaving No Trace

Birds flock on the tide
while dark clouds of rain
are driven onshore,
clearing skies over the island.
Gracefully they circle and land,
circle and land, gathering.
I sit quietly, sipping
on the early hours
of soft light and shadow.
The silent earth, teaching
deep root and letting go,
lightens my footsteps
until like the ancients
I leave no trace
but the imprint of kindness
left on the souls
I’ve dared to love.

 

 

 

photograph of Sweet Medicine by Rebecca Hynes

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reading of “Leaving No Trace” with music by Ahura

 


From Cradle Return

Into the lush night
of a waxing moon
rich with silence
I walk with certainty.
The well of earth opens
and down I go
to the caverns of peace.
Surrendering my shield
I stand beside ancients
and in the undisturbed
wisdom lights the stars.
I find myself
a glimmer in Her eyes,
a spark in His fire
and from Their cradle
return to the dark night,
witness to Their love.

 

 


photograph by Louis MacKenzie

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reading of “From Cradle Return” with music by Nanci Griffith

 


Descent to Winter Root

The early sun breaks
through eastern clouds,
lighting the sea in a wind driven tide.
Trees begin their slow descent
to winter root, the forest quiet
in chill morning air.
I let go of the island,
of what I love above ground
for the season of goes within.
Sees Far says you strain vision
when you desire too much;
there is no poverty
in the root cellar of the soul.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reading of “Descent to Winter Root” with music by Oregon