Women’s Circle

Standing in a women’s circle 

in June of 2012

I stood across from you 

knowing that you would be my mentor 

on the beginning of this new 

and long journey 

You gifted me a soft pink, white and 

wine colored pashmina scarf

The ones they sell on tables

in the city 

on cold corners

to passersby who decide to stop and peruse

You told me as you handed it to me

it was gifted to you

when you were pregnant

by a woman

who had recently given birth 

and little did I know then 

and for years to come 

how this would be the beginning of a 

very long cycle 

of birthing and rebirthing 

both physically, emotionally 

and spiritually 

for me 

and for us 

My little Victoria is here 

and now comes another 

Sweet angel

who picked me 

who was handed down to me 

by the divine

to watch over and guide

my internal

Mother Earth 

Creating 

Healing 

Gifting 

all

the 

time–

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Standing at the 

Precipice 

of eternity 

Once again

I catch a glimpse into 

Your big tiny heart 

Wondering what 

collective name we will give

You

What heaven you will come from 

What star will you

Tell the story of 

What footprint 

Will you leave 

When your page

Is written 

When your work 

is finally done? 

Bake

Picturing you 

A dream 

Awake

The kind of child

I will always love

The kind of womb 

That takes its time

The kind of creation

That crinkles in the eyes 

A love supreme 

A masterpiece 

Divine–

Missing Poems

Forgot to write a poem today
the buzzing in my veins
forbids me from sitting down
getting grounded
or letting go
So please Creator
see this feeble attempt
at expression a reminder
of my unwavering dedication to you
and that all I should do
be in reverence to you
the divine force
the heartbeat
the baby in the mother’s womb–

Beach Ball

Listening to you
repeat every word I say
like it’s all new
it is new
it’s so
so
so very new to you
you pick up a piece and say red
it’s yellow
you pick up another piece
it’s yellow
you say yellow
the claymation on the screen
as I type this
says
“koo koo”
it’s Russian for
peek a boo
I didn’t understand why
until I heard you repeat it
(so much easier for babies)
and here we are
day after day
week after week
month after month
nearing the 2 year mark
and you are everything I hoped for
everything I dreamed of
more than I could have imagined
as we awaken another morning
rest unto another night
looking forward with glistening eyes
thanking the Lord
for another day here
to live in peace
and as much harmony
as my small mind
commands
as I will allow myself to feel
on this little
round
blue ball
called
Earth–

 

Speaking your purple and pink language

Speaking your purple and pink language

The words roll off your tongue like bubbles

Popping to the sound of your own melody 

Matching the bazooka Joe music of the radio 

Sound waves 

Collapsing 

Into me 

Into you 

As you stroll the Invisble 

Baby 

Across the room 

We are waiting for you 

To arrive 

One year 

In the future

Will you come? 

We wonder–

heart strings

the cycle will begin again
I mean
it keeps on going
the months have passed
two to be exact
and I have watched your little face grow
your cheeks have become plumper again
and your little eyes have gotten wider
brighter
fuller
smarter
I can tell that you know just a little bit more
about how this world works
fascinated by its invisible strings
watching all the while and learning
how we do things
but I know
down there in your new, pink heart
you’re the one with all the secrets
with all the knowledge of the universe
and you have me
my heart
on its own puppet strings
you pull those cords
and I come running
and I will
forever.

Do it together…

Wipe the crust from my eyes
and think of yours
hoping you will be better today
praying that this is just the beginning of a
new leap
and you will come out all the
better
wiser
stronger
smarter
more lovely than ever
able to see how all the elements come into place
to do the simple things we do everyday
to come to me with your jacket and say, “let’s go out”
or finally pick up a pencil and “draw something”
and I will tell you how to do it
and we will do it
so lovingly
together–

past, present, future

I have complained in the past
many, many times
about how you were never there
when I needed you.
This morning I
recalled very distant memories
looking out of my own eyes
I wondered
how is it that we remember this
and not that
whatever that may be
and as I look out of those four year old eyes
parallel to the kitchen counter
raising up my two skinny arms
to reach the cup of water
it seems as though I am looking out of
the same exact ones
as if it’s happening
right now
or even yesterday.
I remember drawing on the walls
while my mother took a shower
I remember even thinking then
how bad and mean it was to do
and yet I still did it anyway
walking back and forth along the long
dark hallway
I used different colors to make dashes
like Emily Dickinson
over and over again…
and I wondered today
now
how could I have had those thoughts
they seemed so mature
and to say that I did not know what I was doing
is not true
and I remember my mother yelling,
“we just painted these walls!”
and did I do it for attention, I wonder?
And so, today,
as I was walking home with Victoria
I saw myself again
so many years from now
watching her tell me I was there too much
that I was around too often
and to leave her alone
making up for my mother’s absence
I pushed my own child away–
silly thoughts, I think
and brush them
all away–

Little peep.

You’re beginning to understand.
You have eyes for seeing and
Hands for touching
And a bunch of vocal cords for
Screaming your little head off when you don’t get what you want.
I see the clear, drippy boogers
Dripping from your nose
Drip
Drip
Drip
I wipe, wipe, wipe….
What did the book say again about getting you to calm
The frig
Down?
I try it all.
I think it’s working…
And then a soft lullaby
And some little o crackers
Munch munch munch
Then off to sleep.
I love you so much….
My little
Baby
Peep.