New Moon

Full Moon, February 23, 2024. Ryan Moat.

With a new moon and the beautiful transition to autumn upon us, some poems for your week, month, moment. XX, Megan

September

draughts of cool morning air
carried on dry-sighing leaves
respirate, whispering: rest, stay,
plan, see, manifest, begin, in every
breath the order and
organization of Earth
are upon us as gardens bear
fruit, hay is left to cure,
baled in sun waning
warmly in late afternoon
fields of golden bristle,
summer to fall, denouement
to eight months of moons
new and full and new again
transitions cyclical, circling
in the darkening sky
just after the last gasp
of cerise light crests over the
western mountains at sunset
wind chimes low and resonant
toning oooooh-aaaaah, bracing
rush and sweep of air transmits
that ocher timbre of September

Wasatch Mountains, September 2024. Image, my own.

Temple
for Danny and Kat, with love, M

Come into the temple
of my love for
I am sure about
its beauty and its
strength

Come into the temple
of my love for strength
can also mean softness,
stillness, peaceful respite,
home

I’ve learned that lives
change so quickly, so
surely, that surety is
difficult to process, to
prepare

But one thing I am
sure of is that as
the sun sets and the
stars rise, I will love
you

Through the night,
and as the sun rises
on the next morn, in
communion with the coming
day

In shelter of our shared
humanity, loyalty,
commitment, love, and
serenity we weather
storms

Of life together,
centered as we enter
into the temple
of our
love

Book Room, August 2024. Image, my own.

V Yourself:
Violet and Verstue

vivacious
viridity
verve
visceral
vital
vulnerable
voluptās
virtu
verity
volant
vociferous
vehement
violaceous
varsal

Hay Bales and Timpanogos. August 2024. Image, my own.

Let There Be Joy

Let there be joy all
around you

Humming, thrumming
in the air above

Your body, the conduit
from the outside in

That electricity
of savoring the

Small, the ephemeral
first bite of a

Ripe peach the
stream as it licks

And leaps over
each stone, all things

Unabashed and still
known like the

Sun as it dapples
clouds and leaves

Each beam a special
reminder that life and

Love are meant for
you the first kiss

Of a new love fresh
on your lips

Double Rainbow over Strawberry Reservoir. August 2024. Jamie Hagan.

Light

Cotton Candy Clouds, August 2024

Love

No one tells you that love and risk are synonymous.

This is a hard truth to bear in this world, I’ve found.

But people also don’t tell you that love comes in so many beautiful forms that perhaps the human tongue has never named or caressed or articulated them all– anima, amor, amatio, cupido, diligentia, ludus, eros, agape, pragma, philautia, zelo Love

Love forms the deepest connective tissues and threads of our psyche and souls– the circle that embraces us all, and this love is vast, sweeping, sublime, teeth– it is the sinew of the divine that runs through all living things. You Me.

It’s the why behind how washing the dishes and a sensual lie-in, lay in, lay on can be erotic. Simple.

That is the wonder of love. The musings that both bring us to our knees in gratitude as well as sorrow, pleasure as well as pain, transcendence and immanence. What shall we choose? Love allows us to stand at the edge of the universe of our knowing and unknowing.

Love

Set List from an Epic Music Fest, Ranch Rock III, 2024

Connaissances

Today my old life died
and my new life spawned

I had a tiny lump
in my throat

My stomach turned
a bit, and I

took a long, deep breath
through the pain

then I realized that I was
hungry for breakfast,

stomach grumbling, I went out
and ate and egg

Eden, Utah

Artist
You are the artist
of your soul, winsome and west
her and just so me

Gabrielle Dawe, Plexus 36

Ikigai

When you know things
When you understand and
Begin
to Evolve
and sure, you’ll
be erroneous again,
don’t forget that
there will always be
People
who will try to tell you
Otherwise
The sky is falling
for them, for sure
rather, Recognize that You
Know
that the sun is rising
You are not nothing
that you do
Exist
they are misinformed
Just as all the ideas
that have ever been flat
lines, no heartbeat

Crescent Moon, August 2024

Saturday Dreams

A Saturday trio of sweet poems. I hope you have a deliciously lovely day. XX, Megan

—–

What is this place?

This gorgeous sunny
Saturday of possibility
This stillness of warmth
This cradle of rest
I think I’ll stay

—–

First Day

It feels like the
first day

of the rest
of my life

As near-autumn sun
warms my face

The cat licks her soft
tummy and dainty

paws clean near
my thigh

warm, brown sugar
coffee steams in

my hand. The soft
beat of the night

falls aways and I
can revel in the new day

cricket noise dwindles and chirps,
finch, sparrow, flicker

songbirds are chittering from
the branches of an old

cottonwood, the sun soaks
into every port

the first day unfolds
before me

—–

“Love doesn’t just sit there, like a stone, it has to be made, like bread; remade all the time, made new.” Ursula K. LeGuinn

Grew Some This Season

As the crepey pumpkin leaves
turn into tiny shards of
brown paper in my hand

I am reminded of the circle
of all things, the beauty and reality
of dust

The empty brown cocoons of the peas,
just husks of the tender
green life-casings they once were

From leaf to vine, now
is the harvest time
the time of gathering in

And this year my garden
blossomed, bloomed, produced
and grew in abundance

Bounty and the bearing of the
fruit remind me that I
too have grown

I am rich with new understandings
new scars, too, yes,
but a seeing, a stillness

A silence that hasn’t possessed
me for a long, long time
in its renewal– peace