i love you i love you i love you i love you jude

amen. awomen. alleluia. aaaaaah

And the wind! But it’s clearing the sky, and the air is snow pure, and the sound of nothing enters me. Whoever I am, it is changing. The meadow rings with evergreen.

Rumi Appears at the Elementary Choir Concert

with a line from Daniel Ladinsky’s translation of “With Passion” First it’s the kindergarteners on the risers: three layers of giggle and squirm stuffed into rufflesome dresses and button up shirts. From the back row, Camille can’t see her mom. The lights are too bright. She starts to cry and wipes her nose on her [...]

Allowing

It is hard and I like that it’s hard, this skating on skis as fast as I can ski, which means as deep as I can breathe— my lungs they heave, they heave and burn and the chest inflates and its thigh push and arm pole, hips rise and fall, and mygod I am flying, [...]

One Change of Heart

This morning I unzipped the blue sky to expose behind it the stars. Sometimes on a difficult day it helps to notice all around us the infinite darkness, to remember how, every night, our eyes adjust, eventually.

After Talking to Three People in India for Over Three Hours

After Talking to Three People in India for Over Three Hours The new router, white, sits in the window, and sends invisible signals to my laptop, and I have not an inkling how it works. But it works. All the new numbers—the preferred DNS, the IPS, the sub-something-or-other— they’ve all been reassigned and all is [...]

And to Think, I Could Spend it With You

Never again a morning like this one, never, never again, though the sun will rise again, and the snow will again refuse to fall, and the tea will again be laced with cream, and though you will still be the center of my circling, and though we might again reach our hands toward the sky [...]

What It’s Like

Let’s say you find yourself in a round living room and the women are dressed in white. You, too. In the center of the circle is a wooden bowl filled with holy water, pink lilies, white daisies, purple asters, green mums. These you will use to caress and adorn the very pregnant woman across from [...]

The bare tree limbs have no effect on the sky, they merely frame it. It is not the same with love. Because of you, new clouds form, new birds take flight, the horizon disappears.

At the top of the pass I arrived in a wind scoured snowfield, a ring of stark mountains, a barren gray sky—an emptiness so beautiful that for a barest moment I forgot to grieve all of my petals fallen.