No Phone

All this connectivity
Search engines and
Social media, email
Severs and direct
Message platforms
Every app, it can
Certainly feel
Exhausting to be
so very connected
to each other, yet
Barely involved with
One another,
Bodily, physically,
Beyond productivity
Trackers and fitness
Bits what happens
When you are
Cabined away
In the ferns, Sitka
Spruce, magnolia, and
Dogwood of the

Oregon Coast
Magic as the mist
rolls in from
Cove Beach and you
Stretch out on a
Carnelian settee to
Watch the fog billow
In and congeal on the
Picture windows and
Back-bone of
Driftwood lying in the
Long grass
Gray-white skeletons
of the Ocean made
Manifest to
Remind that
Everything has
Source, spirit, purpose
You put some Peace
Piece, Bill Evans
On the record player,

But eventually let
Everything fall silent
Once again because
The treasure is the
Stillness, the disconnect
The quiet hum of the
Needle across vinyl
Being dampened by
Swelling waves perhaps
Yards away, the mighty
Roll of the Ocean speaking
that sometimes being
Whole means being
Havened away, un-
Reachable,
no phone,
SOS, airplane mode,
Out of service
Out-of-office
Elsewhere, gone

Slow Dance

Slow dance with yourself on a Sunday morning
Take your hair down and grab one hand in your other
Life your spirit onto the raw wooden floor of the
Little house you call home, hickory scraped by thoughtful
Hands, where you live, sway to the beat of your heart, love
In time to the pulse of your quiet longings, smile
in self-solidarity, spin, circle, so that you see where
you are, grounded, so that your heart senses that
every part of you understands that you are the only one
who can inhabit your soul, your spirit, your life, your love
kiss your own vitality with a gentle nod, your body, your mind,
your essence, well, whole, perfectly safe. Let the music
take your shoulders and hips in the rhythm and stride
or two, of just you, slow dancing with yourself

Yes

Yes to me
Yes to life
Yes to ocean
Yes to mountain
Yes to lift
Yes to love
Yes to change
Yes to work
Yes to nobility
Yes to learning
Yes to risk

New Mythologies: Achilles

I’ve needed new mythologies
For a long while now, in fact,
I remember stating this bluntly
When heading out for a swim
Around the long arm of a lake
With a friend, and it turns
Out that the inception of these

Tales and tides save(d) me
from both pride and envy,
boredom and bliss, these
mythologies had already begun to
Take root in my life,
some of them recently, and some
Long, long ago

Achilles was the son of Thetis
And Peleus most strong and noble
Soldier of the Trojan War who was
Dipped in the River Styx by his ankle
His weakness, you know it,
Because it becomes the place of his
Death, pierced by Paris’s arrow

But my achilles is the only thing that
Was saved when I fell free
Climbing, ten feet, and my foot was torn from
My ankle nearly off, but for the
tendon, the achilles, which saved me–
my ability to walk, to run, to ambulate, to
Be in the woods and rivers, canyons
And valleys

How important then, that all that was
Holding my life together actually was
My hubris, my weakness, my ineptitude
The irony wasn’t lost on me, and how
Weakness is in us all, and thereby
A crucial part of every life
And maybe our downfall

But may actually become our very
Strength as I learned the gift of
Living, of understanding difference
And ability across many fractals
Was shown and learned to show
Others empathy in their need,
In their frailty

I was dipped back into mortality
By my wound, by my heel,
By my maiming
The weak point
The place of mortality
The pinch of imperfection
Made into strength