Even Song

Even when the night dances so dark on your mind
that your peace splinters tears,
when life feels over-budget and overdrawn
but under-spent;
in the ache and stall and prickle
and in the fear that can sit so heavy on a belly
that you freeze clear through to your spine
…even then it is there,  rumbling low,
fluttering hope.

In the fear that your mistakes may cost more
than you can ever help to pay,
that you may have loved much but not well,
may have caused more harm than healing,
more thicket than clearing,
more frustration than good,

that a stray word or exhausted miss
may have broken things so hard
that the
final word
is suffering.

Even there in what could quickly become despair,
a bud burns still inside to open,
to sizzle and surge and batter through rock
and shriek life into all that died.

In the stabbing glare of all you may have wasted
or wandered off from,
there’s an epilogue unwritten still
but swirling always fierce with hope
that won’t let go even when you must.

It rumbles new beginnings,  new pages,  new leaves and buds and seasons,
that what was lost may still be found,
that what was buried may yet live.

That in all of the loss and leaving,
in the dreams that died in the shell,
your heart is safe to lean in to what’s coming,
into the quiet thunder that’s humming
resurrection,
hold steady,
it is well.

“What is this breaking,
this hopeful re-making,
shifting stones,
addressing dry bones,
dizzying me with blessings,
intercepting my grieving
and raising the dead all around me.”
– Enuma Okoro

Happy Springtime,  dear you:)
I’ve been busy living like a farmer and I realize I say that every April or May; it’s as true as ever.
I’ll be back regular now – thanks for being your loving selves with my
dirty,  achy, sunburned,  tuckered out Springtime way.
You are a lovely garden and I plop down grateful in your gentle shade:)

of treasure and bells


Yes!  I have such a thankful YES to share!

and as I work to tuck Rivergreen in
for her long Winter’s nap
I linger over the treasure chest of living
she has been,
this business we created as a life raft
and the ship she has become these seven years long
and I honor the journey that together we have shared

the way that growing Rivergreen
grew this family,
how we worked and bonded and tumbled and listened
and fought for,  cared for,  discovered
and needed each other,


for how we learned to really serve
and grew a strong NO
and learned to be true
and not pimp ourselves out because of need,
for all the flowers we got to know
and the dear friends we made along the way,

for those getting free times that broke my heart wide open
like that day in July when,
drenched with heat and grimy work,
I came undone in the  chatting
with a lovely lady customer
reclining regal in her marble pool,
frosty pearls  collecting cool around her glass,

….oh God,  I remember her flawless poise
and polish
as every insecurity I’d ever known as a woman
gnawed through my composure,
teetering there on the edge of tears
and how once she took her perfect tan inside
i let my  jealous tears fall hot
and spat through gritted teeth
“what in the hell am I doing down here?”
~my questions tumbled out as seed
and the answers began to grow.

And I learned to look and see my worth,
that i am not the sum of what I do
or what I seem,
to see the enough-ness,  the beauty,  the treasure
in what the sky speaks,
the wind whispers,
how the earth gives up her secrets
and how trees will hug you back

and how rain is rewarding
and gentleness is strength
and timing is everything
and how earth flings ebullient praise
to her maker
and you can hear it if you listen
and i am  a part of that,
my own sound heard,
my own marks in this dirt as valued
as the bells crying out from grand cathedrals.

As Rivergreen slows and sleeps this winter,
we’ll board another vessel,
a new job for hubby  will pull the weight awhile
and give this body and soul a rest
and when we wake her in the Spring
we’ll paddle gentle,  Rivergreen and I
and let the next chapter unfold
with plenty of space
for nexts to come
and this is a whale of a relief
for me.

I know this was l-o-n-g,
so full up with so much to tell
…thanks for catching the snippets that jump to you
and for sharing my thanks-giving!

“We had to learn to bend without the world caving in,
I had to learn what I’ve got,  who I’m not, and who I am.
I won’t give up on us even if the skies get rough,
I’m giving you all of my love
even if the skies get rough.”
-Jason Mraz

nuzzles and nestings….

Life found me crying over yesterday,
held my heart firm in gentle hands
and whispered “sadness is joy running backwards.”
So I turned face-forward into the soft breath of today,
coming alive to the wild rumpus of grackles in the treetops,
and joined hands with the woods to laugh at the ruckus,
letting simple joy
~like soothing arnica for my body
  and tiny ginger cupcake for my soul,
nuzzle my dreams out of layaway
and nudge me to nesting again.


Joy stood on tiptoe to tickle me open
to looking close for the twinkle in now roomy spaces,
a newer nest for the next things
fluttering in my belly
~breath of spirit like bright rush of breeze
squeezing stomach wiggly with beautiful beginnings,
churning  fresh buttery hope.


So I’m opening wide to the lovely of nexts
to drifting leaves swooping like swallows
and dancing in warm speckled light.
And I plop right down into here and now
like a toddler in the sand
and let the smile of this present moment
disarm the melancholy of  missing.


As the life I’ve nurtured wobbles into powerful flight,
strong with love and lift
I sweep clean the sweet downy feathers of the past
and say yes to hovering over new things
……nesting again my own ripening life
~wallflower dreams.
brand new songs
and fledgling wings.