recuerda mi corazon

haiku my heart

 

crucible of light

a cathedral of blossoms

avalanche of love

 

friday mornings-

your friendship is a sudden comfort

a wild blooming

an arrival of light-

generosity as sweet and uplifting as Spring.

xo

haiku my heart

 

a weekly unfurling of

 tiny jubilant love

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haiku my heart

 

in the dappled dark

place a poem upon your lips

then.savor.slowly.

 

ON HOW TO PICK AND EAT POEMS


Stop whatever it is you’re doing.
Come down from the attic.
Grab a bucket or a basket and head for light.
That’s where the best poems grow, and in the dappled dark.

Go slow. Watch out for thorns and bears.
When you find a good bush, bow to it, or take off your shoes.
Then pluck. This poem. That poem. Any poem.
It should come off the stem easy, just a little tickle.
No need to sniff first, judge the color, test the firmness.
You’ll only know it’s ripe if you taste.

So put a poem upon your lips. Chew its pulp.
Let its juice spill over your tongue.
Let your reading of it teach you
what sort of creature you are
and the nature of the ground you walk upon.
Bring your whole life out loud to this one poem.
Eating one poem can save you, if you’re hungry enough.

When birds and deer beat you to your favorite patch,
smile at their familiar appetite, and ramble on.
Somewhere another crop waits for harvest.
And if your eye should ever light upon a cluster of poems
hanging on a single stem, cup your hand around them
and pull, without greed or clinging.
Some will slip off in your palm.
None will go to waste.

Take those you adore poem-picking when you can,
even to the wild and hidden places.
Reach into brambles for their sake,
stain your skin some shade of red or blue,
mash words against your teeth, for love.
And always leave some poems within easy reach
for the next picker, in kinship with the unknown.

If you ever carry away more than you need,
go on home to your kitchen, and make good jam.
No need to rush, the poems will keep.
Some will even taste better with age,
a rich batch of preserves.

Store up jars and jars of jam. Plenty for friends.
Plenty for the long, howling winter. Plenty for strangers.
Plenty for all the bread in this broken world.

Phyllis Cote-Dai

 

haiku my heart

 

 

 

 

"plenty for friends.

plenty for strangers.

plenty for all the bread

in this broken world."

 

XOXO

 

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haiku my heart

 

 

she kept an altar

in the chambers of her heart

hopes dreams butterflies

 

 

"Do not be dismayed by the brokenness 

of the world. All things break. And all things can be mended.

Not with time, as they say,

but with intention.

So go. Love intentionally,

extravagantly, unconditionally.

The broken world waits in the darkness 

for the light that is you."

 

L.R. Knost

 

holding a place in my heart 

transformation-

yours and mine.

XO

 

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haiku my heart

 

Maggie Taylor

 

more to you than yesterday 

wrapped in endless ancient grace

one flower blossoms

 

 

 

“When you start to feel like things should have been better this year,

remember the mountains and valleys that got you here

They are not accidents, and those moments weren't in vain.

You are not the same.

You have grown and you are growing.

You are breathing,

you are living,

you are wrapped in endless,

boundless grace.

And things will get better.

There is more to you than yesterday.”

― Morgan Harper Nichols

 

dear friends,

i use to believe if i loved fiercely enough

i could protect my loved ones, i could change a dark tide to light.

the crushing reality is

i can't even protect myself.

the one hundred sorrows we bear up to in

daily life as we know it today

is heart crushing.

and when you live your life connected to all of

humankind and this beautiful earth we call home-

what is the weight of such accumulative sorrow?

the enormity of despair and suffering

has been heart crushing.

and truth be told part of mending

doesn't really heal our primal wounds,

it's more a triage of

tourniquets and bandages-

to keep our insides in.

 

may the strongest seeds of love

crack our hearts wide open.

may we all find a tender fragile

blossom of kindness

and extend it to each other.

i can attest to the power and healing of such offerings.

 

an unexpected

act of kindness extended so 

lovingly my way

helped me 

to be here today.

XO

 

haiku my heart

  

every offering a mending

of hearts

 

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