A poem from the last day of summer: Ripples of love

Somehow it is the last day of summer

and rain is falling on the roof

sweet slow soft,

as its beginning it also is ending.

This week, for the first time,

two bouncy boys

will head to school together

They promise they will miss me,

but not their teachers.

The little girl

walks on tiptoes

around the table

and crawls on her belly

to catch balloons

those delicious inflated moments 

that disappear

before you know it.

The season was spent

plopping berries

launching arrows

skipping stones

chasing waves,

the sweetness

piercing

the water

and returning.

I visited gardens

taller than my head

where birds, bunnies, and me

find surprise, abundance

and we put it in a jar

of goldenness

to pour out,

lavishly, over cold things.

As this ice cream melts

I hold it, in my fingers,

and I hope- for you-

to lap it from

my hand.

• 

  Explora museum

  Albuquerque
• 

  Butterfly flowers

• 

  Connor at Omniplex

• 

  4th of July: Star struck

• 

  Corona Del Mar beach

• 

  Echinacea

• 

  First trip to the beach

• 

  An expedition

• 

  Sunflowers in the sky

• 

  Moth men

  This guy vibrated so hard he kept me up all night
• 

  Family at music camp

• 

  Cris exploring river at music camp

• 

  Cali petting Angel

• 

  Waves!

• 

  The archer and his page

• 

  Berry picking

Mommy moments

I was going to publish this on mother's day...oops!

"I'll give you a daisy, a daisy..." Self portrait with Cristopher from mother's day tea

Cake batter! January 2012 with Conno

La vie en rose. Calyn and Mom, May 2012

Sky Touchers

A few weeks ago when we were in the mountains of central New Mexico I came across this phrase "sky touchers" as something the local indians, the Jemez, the Zia, and others, who lived in these mountains historically referred to themselves as. To me it was such a beautiful metaphor for the whole spiritual quest. But also a reminder of what happens when we make spirituality something so grandiose and other we miss the heaven on earth right before us. Perhaps, because children are nearer to the ground, they are better at remembering this. These are my musings of how they live their lives immersed, satiated, saturated; living out prayer.



Dear children,
We came here
For sky touching.
But instead
of star gazing,
you wanted
To eat dirt.

We wanted to see
A mountain lion.
You have caught a caterpillar.

We ask
where does the river lead?
Inevitably,To your feet.

We hear the hollow
And haunting sounds
Of the wind
in the ruins.

You catch it
And make it whistle
Through your mouth
Through your round flute
Through your laughter.

Camp song

Little sound sleeper
In my arms
I watch your breath
Move you
Up and down
On my chest

Soft and full
Those clouds
Hover in the still air
Breaking up the monotonous sky
Lingering And swelling
they will
Bring life on
Desert peaks

The notes
On a blank paper
The songs of my sky.

Allargando
Repeat
Fromada, fromada, fromada
Rest.

The abominable snowman and the polka dot princess

Sometimes at the end of the day and I feel bitter. At the mountainous and growing stack of things that are undone or incomplete. At the rabid clutter that is cornering me in my own house. At the grime that is as obtrusive as an abominable snowman in my livingroom; in July, nonetheless. If he would let me I would dress him in wacky multi-colored knit hats, but I guess he is not the type. He hates to be coddled. He hates interruptions. But, I must continually remind myself, they are such good and lovely ones.

On Sunday I left chuch service early to play with my polka dot princess because her gleeful squeals were disruptive. I left to marvel at how big she has grown in a few short months. To watch her be precocious and plunky, silly and smiley. She waves and tries to say "Hi" to everyone that walks by. She tries, usually successfully, to eat shoes. She tries to show everyone how to find milk. She giggles and squawks and gives her own sermons quite loudly.

Then we had a lovely brunch out with my great mother in law at a new restaurant that features local farm food and delectible things like honey lemon lavendar scones and smoked gouda grits. Nevermind that mysterious magnetic forces kept dragging my sons to the floor or that aliens had come and absconded with their manners and instead just put rude and demanding epitaphs in their heads. Who knows maybe they had an encounter with Mr.A. Snowman that has traumatized them for life.

The Polka Dot Princess is all played out

I did get some great snuggles and naps with Miss P.D. Princess. And we finally got to taste the first five blueberries we had grown on our own bushes. Little orbs of goodness.

Later Evan helped get kids dinner. Number one and number three went for a walk with me and
We ended evening telling stories about our pet dragon. His name is Oogaloo.

Perhaps I hate things like the dishes so much because they are actually very obtrusive interruptions to the rest of my real life- the one that comes complete with calls from my yetti!!