Starting from nothing to where we are, is farther than the farthest star. And farther than the farthest star, is where we're going from where we are. - Eyvind Earle

and what do i love about you? that even as infinity spills its ocean of obsidian upon your ember-freckled hills, you out-mother oblivion as you brush your baby’s cheek— there is nothing dark enough to kill the fire you burn unique.

“This is how it always is when I finish a poem. A great silence overcomes me, and I wonder why I ever thought to use language.” —Rumi (translated by Coleman Barks)

There are no trees, no seas, no tides.  Daylight now is a quartz-halogen blue coming from the sails of a grid of satellites. Nothing grows.  On land, nor in the stagnant pools scattered across the deserts like ruptured sores. And the last poet writes: I can see the end from here.

When you find your true tone, everything false burns.

Ellen Bass 💙

I weed with what I think is single-mindedness.  Bunched up towel under knobby knees.  Gloves of good leather for those damn nettles.  A healthy respect for the spiders and bees.  We’re getting on close to summer’s end, and we’re pushing for our house to sell.  My wife, you see,

Hilma af Klint “Buddha’s Standpoint in the Earthly Life” 1920

You don’t speak anymore to the void. You walk into it gradually dropping noise until you are the silence that gives it its depth. Then you walk out.

Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer • The Unfolding

remember to disappear every so often

a cloud mimics a heartbeat

chaos i live in a constant state raw edges circling axis tilted by season mornings i redraw my map look for the beacon of you as far out as i can go if you can't be found i am lost

Dorianne Laux • Only As The Day Is Long acutely, painfully, achingly

i may dissolve today. it all depends on how my salt behaves— the way it cakes across your skin. my ricochet of crystal off your fickle chemistry within. i only want to alter you till i become the salt of you & the mist upon your flesh is the bliss in which i swim. #vss365

i won’t sing the deep thing from a corner. who would take me for their favorite riptide? this could be so jubilant, dear arteries, but you love a swivel—and they wonder how a body turns that grayer form of gorgeous. as if wonder was the ember and not the sum of deaths before it.

Goddamn, this book is so good. (frank: sonnets by Diane Seuss)

Honoured to be part of this powerful synergy of global voices, writing on a theme of topical importance. Thank you to EIC Rebecca Rijsdijk at Sunday Mornings at the River for including my poem 'Territorial' 🖤 #poetry #anthology #poetrycommunity #writingcommunity #justice

People who deny the existence of dragons are often eaten by dragons. From within.~Ursula K. Le Guin, The Wave in the Mind

Mary Oliver • Devotions