Sunday, October 29, 2006


Photo by S. Auberle

"For all that has been, thanks!

For all that is to be, yes!"

- Dag Hammarskjold

Saturday, October 28, 2006


Photo by S. Auberle

"So rests the sky against the earth. The dark still tarn in the lap of the forest. As a husband embraces his wife's body in faithful tenderness, so the bare ground and trees are embraced by the still, high, light of the morning.

I feel an ache of longing to share in this embrace, to be united and absorbed. A longing like carnal desire, but directed towards earth, water, sky and returned by the whispers of the trees, the fragrance of the soil, the caresses of the wind, the embrace of water and light. Content? No, no, no---but refreshed, rested---while waiting."

- Dag Hammarskjold

Tuesday, October 24, 2006


Photo by S. Auberle


deer are moving delicately
in the orchard's dusky light
beneath their steps
windfall apples
bear fragrance
of sun-splashed hours

out in the bay
rain is coming
and the old trees sigh
their gnarled arms aching
bent with giving
and winter closing in

and tonight oh god I'm missing you

- mimi

Sunday, October 22, 2006


Photo by S. Auberle

From the back of my Celestial Seasonings tea box:
"Add Joy to your Daily Life"

1) Pay as much attention to the things that are working positively in your life as you do to those that are giving you trouble.

2) Rake a big pile of leaves every fall and jump in it with someone you love.

3) Memorize your favorite poem.

4) Learn three knock-knock jokes so you will always be ready to entertain children.

5) Don't let weeds grow around your dreams.

6) Remember that everyone you meet is afraid of something, loves something, and has lost something.

7) Regardless of the situation, react with class.

8) Let some things remain mysterious.

- H Jackson Brown, Jr. Life's Little Instruction Book


Now if that was too sappy, Hallmarky, etc., how about these two?

"If you win the rat race, you're still a rat."

- Anna Quindlen, A Short Guide to a Happy Life


And lastly, in keeping with the season, a joke from that old Zen master himself--Willie Nelson:

"A skeleton walks into a bar and says 'give me a beer and a mop.'"

- The Tao of Willie

The last may require a moment or two, so I'll leave you with that...

- mimi

Saturday, October 21, 2006


Photo by S. Auberle

waiting for winter
sun warms the Buddha's stone face
he knows no sorrow

Friday, October 20, 2006


photo by S. Auberle

A friend mentioned yesterday that
it looked like I'd said Farewell to my
blog, with the post below this. But, alas,
it was only farewell to autumn. Not to worry,
I'm just thinking, attempting to get my act
together, you know the routine, especially
if you're an artist of any sort. the well is
filling, etc., etc.

Back when I have something to say!

- mimi

Saturday, October 14, 2006


Photo by S. Auberle

snow whispers down
leaves on the old oak weep
autumn's farewell

Thursday, October 12, 2006


Photo by S. Auberle


Once in awhile, out in the desert,
comes a day when anything can happen.
A day when you lose yourself
in that pool of light just at the horizon,
when you can see time
running backwards in a lizard's eye,
a day when a voice seems to murmur
from crumbling hilltop ruins:

approach with respect
the land you tread on
was once my bones...

Comes a day when stones speak
and you understand,
a day when you know Coyote knows,
a day when old pottery buried in the earth
fills your heart with words:

look, the sky is round above you
like my red bowl
like time in its circle
like the Earth
holding all our bones...

- mimi

Wednesday, October 11, 2006


Photo by S. Auberle


In the 21st century
on a day soon to come
silence will depart this earth
and only a few of us will notice.

We know we'll miss
the whisper of crow wings,
night footsteps of elk,
the tiny puffs of a baby's breath,
things heard only in stillness,

but silence will be extinct,
like the species falling around us,
like pure air, like the forest cathedrals
where our ancestors once prayed.

Grieving for it, I watch a pelican
soaring alone against a purple sky.
The bird crosses the waning moon,
light gleaming on its white wings
and the mountain whispers goodbye

as it ascends, till it's only a speck,
flying to join its lost flock.
Sunlight fades as the bird vanishes
and tall clouds close in behind it,
brooding sentinels, without pity.

- mimi

Saturday, October 07, 2006


Photo by S. Auberle

no posts for a few days...
Francis Thompson, a British
poet, 1859-1907, wrote this:

" All things by immortal power
near and far
to each other linked are
that thou canst not stir a flower
without troubling a star."

Friday, October 06, 2006


Photo by S. Auberle

Five little girls laid to "rest" this week. Five little girls in white, hand-sewn dresses whose faces we will never see. We know their names: Naomi Rose, Marian, Mary Liz, Lena, and Anna Mae. A sixth child, who has been removed from life support, may soon join them. The oldest girl, thirteen year old Marian Fisher, apparently begged the shooter to take her life and set the smaller girls free. Instead he shot her, in addition to the others. She is a hero.

The girls will lie in hand-sawn wooden coffins in a windswept, hilltop cemetery. The quiet fathers in their dark suits and the mothers in long, black dresses and mourning bonnets will also remain invisible to us. They will not parade their grief or express their sorrow to a media-hungry world. There will be no photos, no expressions of outrage and anger, no calls for reform in an increasingly violent world. There will be a request for prayers and words of forgiveness.

The face of the village of Nickel Mines will be changed. It's said that the schoolhouse where the shootings occurred will be razed. And most likely, on a clear autumn day the bearded men in their wide-brimmed hats will return and build another. They will work as one and, sharing the labor, the work will go quickly and easily. The women in their long dresses will provide food and the children will run and play, as all children do. Except for six little girls.

I watched the procession of black buggies on the news last night, as a fierce storm swept through the area where I live. Here, in this place, live another group of people who are, in many ways, not a part of this century. The Hopi Indians also live close to the land, and are a private people who cherish many of the old ways and beliefs. They believe that when their loved ones die they return as moisture--snow and rain--the most vital resource needed by the Hopi in their high desert homeland. As I watched the funeral procession, rain beat violently against my windows, sweeping in waves, bending tall pines low. It was dark as night at 5:00 p.m. Yet, I can only imagine a soft rain returning the souls of these gentle Amish children.

If ever a tragedy could have a blessing associated with it, it must be this one. To teach a world gone increasingly out of control, the meaning of control--of our emotions, our excesses, our craziness. And, conversely, a lack of control--an unquestioning faith, a quiet acceptance of what life may bring us. Lastly, and most importantly, how to forgive. A quote from the Christian Science Monitor says:

"...the Amish example of forgiveness is a reminder that real safety lies less in acting out of fear to prevent violence and more on qualities such as forgiveness that better connect people."

What else in our world do you suppose that could apply to?

- mimi

Thursday, October 05, 2006


Photo by S. Auberle

"Walk around feeling like a leaf.
Know you could tumble any second.
Then decide what to do with your time."

- Naomi Shihab Nye

Monday, October 02, 2006


Photo by S. Auberle


Have a nice, good day
the young man says to me, solemnly,
twice--like some primitive incantation

and I wish him the same
as he tosses flame-colored hair
out of his eyes and bags my groceries

then pauses to bury his face
in the bronze chrysanthemum
I've bought to color this dark autumn day.

His world is, apparently, not mine,
yet who is to say who is more blessed?
What's important to him is to connect

with the shoppers and me and the flower,
held so passionately, for a moment,
that its petals are bruised with loving.

Outside there is now almost unbearable light.

- mimi


Photo by S. Auberle

Though I now appreciate the beauty and the gifts
of the religion in which I was raised--Catholicism,
there was a period of searching for me during which I
found my religion in Nature. That is still very true
today--I find nothing in this world more sacred than
the song of an elk on an autumn night, the moon-shadowed
mountain, an eagle soaring overhead. I believe God
resides in all of these...and me...


I grew in rocky ground, it's true,
but who are you, preacher-man,
to absolve me of my sins?

What do you know of woman-sins?
I know them all
and I know how to heal them--

not in your church
but on this mountain--
this old, granite Mother

among her tall children, where
I hear her music
flowing through me

through these aspen,
that spiraling hawk,
and the fly crawling beside me,

where the trees and I
are growing strong,
skyward, praising,

always praising
that stony ground
from which we grew.

- mimi

Sunday, October 01, 2006


Photo by S. Auberle

"The clearest way into the Universe
is through a forest wilderness."

- John Muir