“What if the world is holding its breath – 
waiting for you to take the place that only you can fill?”
David Whyte

Why, in the middle of your busy life, would you pause to read poetry?

Because good poetry points us to what truly matters, which is why I use poetry so much in my work.  A good poem offers sanctuary, reminding us of the necessity, power and beauty of contemplation.  In a world hell-bent on filling space with activity and silence with noise, this is a subversive act.  So slow down, digest a poem, let it take you by the hand.  Allow yourself be touched, even changed.  Indeed, poetry has been know to save lives.  Nuff said.  Onward!

Image: Paul Cezanne, Still life, pitcher and fruit

July 2019 ~ First Light

This poetic medicine will do you good.  It contains absolutely no harmful side effects.
Take any time of day or night.  Use if you want to remember what matters.

First Light
In the first light
I remember who rewards me for living,
not bosses
but singing birds and blue sky.

I know I can bathe and stretch,
make jewelry and love
the witch and wise woman
living inside, needing to be silenced
and put at rest for work’s long day.

In the first light
I offer cornmeal
and tobacco.
I say hello to those who came before me,
and to birds
under the eaves,
and budding plants.

I know the old ones are here
and every morning I remember the song
about how buffalo left through a hole in the sky
and how the grandmothers look out from those holes watching over us
from there and from there.

Linda Hogan, from Savings
Copyrighted material; for educational/therapeutic purposes only.

Hogan is a member of the Chickasaw Nation.  Learn more:  http://www.lindahoganwriter.com

Reflection:  What do you remember in First Light?  What happens when you begin the day remembering; what happens when you don’t?

By |July 1st, 2019|Tags: , |

June 2019 ~ For Lucky, In Memoriam

For Lucky, In Memoriam
August 2003 – May 19, 2019

When finally
she surrendered
all effort to fathom
and disappearance,
to understand how
one loves
what cannot last –
her heart rolled
as a child at play
in newly mown grass,
rolled and rolled upon
a sea of fragrant petals,
sweet with the scent
of peonies.

By Krayna Castelbaum

* Lucky, my Canine Muse and Beloved Friend for 15 years and three months, taught me the true nature of devotion, freedom and love.  Those gifts continue and my gratitude is inestimable.

Bring to mind a beloved who has passed on.  While the body no longer appears to you in the physical sense, have the gifts and the love you shared been removed from you?  What are the gifts you’ve been given and how do you honor them?


By |June 1st, 2019|Tags: , |

May 2019 ~ If You Knew

May we embrace this floating world and rise up in compassionate celebration of life.

If You Knew

What if you knew you’d be the last
to touch someone?
If you were taking tickets, for example,
at the theater, tearing them,
giving back the ragged stubs,
you might take care to touch that palm,
brush your fingertips
along the life line’s crease.

When a man pulls his wheeled suitcase
too slowly through the airport, when
the car in front of me doesn’t signal,
when the clerk at the pharmacy
won’t say Thank you, I don’t remember
they’re going to die.

A friend told me she’d been with her aunt.
They’d just had lunch and the waiter,
a young gay man with plum black eyes,
joked as he served the coffee, kissed
her aunt’s powdered cheek when they left.
Then they walked half a block and her aunt
dropped dead on the sidewalk.

How close does the dragon’s spume
have to come? How wide does the crack
in heaven have to split?
What would people look like
if we could see them as they are,
soaked in honey, stung and swollen,
reckless, pinned against time?

Ellen Bass, from The Human Line
Copyrighted material; for educational/therapeutic purposes only.

How does the realization of impermanence impact the way you see yourself, others and the world?  Notice whether you become sad and despairing, or more empathic and grateful for life.

Image:  “Tenderness,” Collage by Vesna Pavlovic

By |May 1st, 2019|Tags: , |

Lucky’s Corner


Here’s a tasty morsel of poetic medicine from Lucky.
Down the hatch!

“Be a songbird,
not a parrot.”

Lawrence Ferlinghetti

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