there's a woman as old and bright as the stars
whose wild hair looks different every day
a woman whose bare arms and legs dance and lengthen, toeing a rhythm,
leading the rest of us to hear her beat and melody, to hear our song

this woman rose up out of rocky mountains
she came west and dressed us in joy
and a certain boy is not quite not over her
but this woman is wise and patient, brave and hopeful
she hears a voice saying
be still,
come near

and she knows this is a season of new songs

and if i know anything,
it's that her brightness only gets brighter


"And none shall be afraid"


We Cannot Turn Back

"Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again, we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force."


hello, 2009

Okay, I promise I have not fallen off the face of the earth. Many a private poem has been written over the past month.

Following finals, the first two weeks of the holiday were spent in Costa Rica with my family. Then it was home to Washington for a week--my town had 4 feet of snow! But now a new semester is starting, and, with it, a new year.

New classes:
New Religious Movements (but I am just auditing this one)
Modern & Contemporary Philosophy (Descarte to Postmodernism)
Imperialism & Independence (the 2nd British Empire, specifically)
International Law & Organizations (we will participate in the model UN in New York, representing Serbia)
Swimming (triathlons, anyone?)
Acting I (woot!)

So that is 17 units + 4 in auditing. And 3 shifts at work. Busy, but interesting. And it's even been in the 70s, which makes me feel terribly guilty, but is still so nice.


far away from the pura vida tropics
back in a pine-smelling village,
four feet of melting snow poured out by the god of the sky

and we are getting so old now, honey
in fact, it can be hard to write about, sometimes