being home

opening 18 birdhouses and examining nests, cleaning them out for spring
wren, violet green or tree swallow, blue bird? you can tell from the material,
or abandoned left-over eggs

tastes of rich, full-bodied coffee,
satsumas, eggnog and pomegranates
staining fingers scarlet
oh! and those two pies i made from scratch:
one with a large squash from the garden, the other with apples from the orchard

you are inhaling hard, bracing breaths, now
you've been out hiking and walking through the cold
and the fiery sky's setting sun stuns you,
the mist shrouding ponderosa pines and douglas firs of your favorite green-gold
you are lucky, though here in a not uncommon sort of way, to spot a great-horned owl

we are witnesses of the first enduring snow-fall
for so long forgotten in the extravagance of summer,
we turn again to receive Sister Winter


Oh sweet, surreal November,
Displaced community, or, as Telford coined,
"Westmont in Exile"
Being with friends, becoming sisters, going home--
it never felt so right


Tea Fire

...All the neighborhood
watched the fire burn from where they stood
as the smoke said,
"We're not half as bad as G-d is good"


twin braids,
red shawls,
nighttime walks to the library
listening to the owl
singing rocky votolato songs
a tanzanian blue and red plaid blanket
wrapped around my shoulders
the softest, sparsest raindrops
barely touching my lips

i think i can handle my three research papers,
the essay, test, and presentation due this week
not to mention the election,
which has made me oh-so-anxious
since the one in 2004

yes, with moments like this, i think i can handle life.

are you kidding me??

Oh, my God. To actually hear the word persection come from Christians regarding Proposition 8--when it seems, in light of the constitution, to clearly be a civil rights issue and not one of religious freedom--deeply saddens and disturbs me.

Sometimes I just cannot believe the rhetoric advancing within the church. If heterosexual Christians aren't protecting the civil rights of others, maybe they deserve to have their own revoked (as very well could happen when you start institutionalizing discrimination).


our hearts go out to you

Pray for the Congo. Four million killed in the past decade--that is ten times Darfur.

After years of unrest, farmers in parts of eastern DR Congo only go to their fields in large groups (notice how the farmers are women, and then look into rape as a systematic weapon of war).

[Photos, thanks to BBC and Getty Images).



something happens when you come around,
like i can smell the north better (here in the tropics?)
autumn woodsmoke; crisp, full-bodied apples; sage & mint & pine
a tie-dyed girl with wild hair,
child of the island,
an unexpected sister.

always thinking & moving--longboarding, surfing, playing soccer
reading Wollstonecraft, the Prophet, Shakespeare
what is it that is so capturing?

i love your volvo & your scandinavian sweaters,
your yellow sports bras & capital-script handwriting,
i admire your commitment to depth, your honesty
each unfolding piece of story you entrust to me
you speak poetry and pour out prophecy
& i am honored by your patient listening and thoughtful questions

strewn with lavender, lilies, and sunflowers
the garden in your heart is lovely and teeming with life
you, dear one, are a woman of overwhelming strength and beauty
and everywhere you dance, you shine.