MARIAH'S ANGEL

Collage by Mariah, age 6

One of the joys of life--a bitterly cold winter afternoon and hot chocolate and covering yourself and your granddaughter with glue and crayons and paints and papers and ribbons and creating art and having serious conversations about war and "Principal" Bush and Anthony chasing her every day on the playground so that she has to hide behind another bush (yes, it appears the boy/girl thing does begin that early these days) and listening to Santana and a little dancing now and then and it hardly gets any better than this...

well, perhaps a few things are better...I'm not that old...

- mimi

DARK & STORMY

Photo by S. Auberle

It's a dark and stormy afternoon here in the mountains. I'm writing a poem. Snow is skittering down the street. Listening to Sting's "Songs From the Labyrinth," beautiful 16th century lute music and ballads. Perfect for this weather. It's supposed to drop to 3 degrees tomorrow. The wind howled fiercely all last night. I was alone. Thinking dark and broody things. When I get too dark and broody I put on the soundtrack to "Happy Feet," with Prince and Pink, Brittany Murphy, Patti LaBelle, the Beach Boys, etc., etc. That will DEFINITELY change your mood. As long as you can get past the thought of thousands of dancing penguins (actually it was kinda fun to watch)...

- mimi

BASHO

Photo by S. Auberle

a branch shorn of leaves

a crow perching on it--

this autumn eve

- Basho

HEART

"Pomegranate Seeds"
Photo by S. Auberle

"It is only with the heart
that one can see rightly,
what is essential
is invisible to the eye."

- Antoine de Saint Exupery

HAPPY THANKSGIVING

Photo by S. Auberle

My friends,

be warm
be safe
be well
and many, many blessings
to you and yours
on this Thanksgiving Day.

Imagine peace,
- mimi

THERE WILL ALWAYS BE POETS

Photo/Collage by S. Auberle

THERE WILL ALWAYS BE POETS

Blow, west wind
that the small rain down can rain.
Christ, that my love were in my arms
and I in my bed again...

- Anonymous, 14th Century

A woman stands alone on the shore
immersed in the colors of clouds,

in light streaming down from them,
in the passage of a dark ship on the horizon.

She listens to waves kissing the rocks,
to the whisper of gull wings,

to a small, frozen rain striking
the earth beneath her feet.

She has learned, finally, to call
herself poet--that unceasing tumult

of words, whispering and
shouting in her to come forth

will have its way and she imagines
women birthing new poets,

their miniature heart-fists
pulsing with unborn music,

eager, like her, to lament and celebrate
all the ancient passages of love.

- mimi

RAIN

Photo by S. Auberle

rain drumming on glass

November's silver music

sing softly my heart

- mimi

CLIFF NOTES

Photo by S. Auberle

Who will prefer the jangle
of jade pendants

if he has once heard stone
growing in a cliff?

- Tao te Ching

NOVEMBER

Photo by S. Auberle

NOVEMBER

There is always that last day,
the one you never wanted to see
and yet what is more astonishing?
This is the day
before the day
when November settles in.
This is the day
out in the woods
when last silver moths
are winging from mossy stump to leaf,
the day of the last chorus
of swans in the bay,
their call melting over my skin
like warm honey.
Today the quiet ladybugs,
awakened by brief sunlight,
are making their slow journeys,
today last leaves are letting go
tumbling down to the beckoning earth.
This is the day I find that hidden shelf
of rock over tossing water,
hard couch of longing
for days of summers past.
This is the amazing day
I watch a proud mink
trotting into the forest,
fur gleaming, dark, wet,
a fish in its mouth
wriggling in the ecstasy
of November's little deaths.

- mimi

THREE SMALL GEMS

"SHAMAN"
photo by S. Auberle

"Normally we do not so much look at
things as overlook them."

- Alan Watts

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"The greatest revelation is stillness."

- Lao Tse

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"The waking mind is the least serviceable
in the arts."

- Henry Miller

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The last quote is my favorite--gives me
permission for napping, staring into space,
daydreaming...

- mimi

LULLABY

Photo by S. Auberle

LULLABY

Someone said today
the tundra swans are passing over,
the pure white of their bodies
shadows on the green waves and
that there are two hundred-thousand
geese on the Horicon marsh,
that they fly in first and last
two hours of daylight
and that both goose and swan
mate for life.

I'm thinking of them tonight
as I wait for moonrise,
considering how light
guides their journey,
how it falls from the moon
onto their wings, folded
like thousands of praying hands
and how they quiet themselves
there in the darkness
each resting beside the mate.

Love, cover us with soft down,
dim the light for now.
We'll take the unmarked road
tomorrow.

- mimi

IF YOU DON'T KNOW ME

Photo by S. Auberle

If you don't know the kind of person I am
and I don't know the kind of person you are
a pattern that others made may prevail in the world
and following the wrong god home we may miss our star.

- William Stafford