a ritual to start the work week
The doors in the house only close
properly when summer
reaches peak heat and the air hangs
like a wet towel
around our necks. They click
into place, their mechanics catching
like old friends who haven’t chatted
in a minute
but still know how to fit
into each other’s breaths, still feel
the warmth in their embrace.
love notes
a ritual to start the week
Sun fills the sky and clouds fill my head,
angry thunder rumbling in my cheeks,
as lightning streaks down my throat.
My body is certain these spring blooms
seek nefarious ends belied by their delicacy.
Ah, azalea! Ah, peony! Ah, rose!
Your pinks ring my irises and your thorns
grow tracheal, sting my insides. Why yes,
I will dare to sniff once more.
love notes
a ritual to start the week
When some new refrain plucks
your shame-strings like you’re
a banjo at a hoedown — dance.
Don’t let the rows of steel chords
stretch into a thrumming prison
for one. Just two-step to center-floor
and heel-toe your fear away. Let it
drip like sweat from your brow.
Dab it with a bandana and hang it
from the back pocket of your Levi’s
like some signal of your particular
sensitivities to those who wish to
do-si-do.
love notes
a ritual to start the week
Dream a little. Dream
a lot for lots are not what they seem. Dream
eyes wide open to see what you could be. Dream
eyelashes into butterflies and dream
oceans into puddles. Dream
tears into sutures and dream
laughter into tourniquets, let them
stitch you up and keep you alive
when the world blows through you
and tears at your seams. Dream
movement into muscle. Dream
plans into performance. Dream
maybes into momentum and ever-building steam. Dream
moment after moment til they slow into lava flows. Dream
time into a forest and get lost among the trees. Dream
love into a meadow and meet the blossoms like bees. Dream
the petals. Dream
the pollen. Dream
the nectar into honey and honey into hive into home into hope
that your dreams keep us alive
a little longer to dream
one more time.
love notes
a ritual to start the week
Looming trunks and scrubby brush rush
by, a forest on its feet, marching. Arms
taken up into tangled branches wave
in the wind. Muddy bare feet grip
slippery flat stones tilting into brook’s edge
and cloud its cool, clear water. Woods ablaze
with action around us, we wait, shrieving
our soles of their tresspasses before
joining the trees in their crusade.
love notes
a ritual to start the week
wood grain faces stare
silently at our bustle
river stones worn smooth
dunes shift under foot
harsh rasps swirl against floor boards
removing layers
a fire melting
angry sand into soft glass
the way you touch me
love notes
a ritual to start the week
Raindrops fall like sand
in an hourglass, counting
down the moments ’til
the skies clear again.
Down here, our soles
stick as muck flicks
up our calves, splashed
with an unavoidable filth.
Up above some unseen
ceiling, though, the load
lightens, invisible. The light
must break sometime: wait.
love notes
a ritual to start the week
Buds poke heavy heads through
rough earth, peer through gaps
in their gentle wrappings like
children around corners or
behind sofas, between fingers.
They waited — obvious mounds
under blankets, feet under curtains,
barely hidden in familiar spots —
gleeful to be sought. Now found,
their laughter blooms sunny yellow.
love notes
a ritual to start the week
Forgive us, mother, for we have waited,
watched and wanted something more or
something else, but unsure and afraid of
knowing how bodies crumple, how
fissures form, we recoiled from the fire,
stopped our reach and stunted growth. Now
dear mother, please bestow us strength enough
to stand before the swirling maw.
love notes
a ritual to start the week
What if it’s a gift — that missing
piece, the one you can’t move
forward without; that reminder
that slipped your mind; that post-it
that came unstuck and slipped
behind your desk; that message
that spooled and spooled and
didn’t send; that missing link
between the day you thought
you’d have and the day you’re
having? Or at least, what if
you chose to see it that way?
love notes
a ritual to start the week
