Árainn mhór   Wind-swept, still we board the ferry In the port tidal sway is not too bad Venturing out to the open sea stretch Portholes dip drastically below water levels.   Céad Míle Fáitle – A hundred thousand welcomes Residents so relaxed, Also, the…

Just before he died, my daughter asked him, “What is your favorite color?” And he said it was yellow. “Send me a sign when you’re gone,” she said. He nodded weakly, though he appeared to dismiss her.   “I saw a yellow bird. Here’s a…

I wish for a release from the energies that bind me. The ones that wish to control and defined me. I don’t belong to them, I belong to me. These juvenile texts are used to express what I feel. Does that not make them all…

To the Petitioner   Your words pour like libation upon a shrine upon the bosom of a goddess as from an ancient gourd in the hands of an old dibia.   But, is that resignation I see in your downcast eyes?   Let your libation…

Take delight in this Day! There is majesty in this moment and Joy! Celebrate Joy in the seen and the Knowing of the Joy of Unseen things. My anticipation of Day breaks like Sunrise. Spreading Light, colours fill my senses and awaken my Soul. In stillness,…

I am small so on particularly windy days am propelled forward by hidden hands resetting my directional. My body becomes a palette of contortions- A strange performance art an awkward dance to meet the unexpected acceleration. Movement, minus the self-imposed structure we choose to expose…

Earthy, nutty, smooth, warmth cradled between two hands. Slowly sipped, savored. The clock ticks, oranges and yellows streak the blue sky, illuminating fuzzy thoughts that slowly coalesce into purpose.  

Coffee and Change   I’ll have a super European sounding large half-caf, double oat milk with a raspberry syrup shot – make that two – white chocolate and raspberry syrup alternately drizzled down the sides, so I can see them through the clear plastic single-use…

It was the celebration of Summer, The Strawberry Moon.   A full moon to bring in the innocence gone wild and to call in the dances of the animals from their slumber of restlessness.   Instead, the sky was screened in a translucent cloth of…

The only sound I listen to Is the clank and the clatter of the L as it lumbers above the gray, steaming street There’s nothing to see through the window that weeps tears of condensation as I drink the hot sludge they call coffee and…