as ever

for Akiva

My breasts, his bread and his blanket,
It’s how our tender Creator made it.
He comes up for air,
white specks ocean spray his nose, and I’ve given myself
over to the worship of toes.

Between your legs made of milk,
a heart-shaped pink frog, and an elephant trunk-
someday will be closed away from me.
But every day, all day, I see it, I clean it,
washing away what’s done is done.

When you wake from sleep, short or long
I’m reminded of where I’ve gone wrong, letting

Any little or any big thing,
Stand in the way of what has been given,
The good news is gooder than “being forgiven”.

You go from Earth to Heaven
when the little one wants your milk and your milk only,
your breast, your breast only
with milk for him, and him only.
You’re already in at that point.

I’m going to destroy my jaw and break my teeth
From clenching with ecstasy

You are
Purity, magic, kindness, Incarnate.

viva sweet love

“sweet spring is your

time is my time is our

time for springtime is lovetime

and viva sweet love”

(all the merry little birds are

flying in the floating in the

very spirits singing in

are winging in the blossoming)

lovers go and lovers come

awandering awondering

but any two are perfectly

alone there’s nobody else alive

(such a sky and such a sun

i never knew and neither did you

and everybody never breathed

quite so many kinds of yes)

not a tree can count his leaves

each herself by opening

but shining who by thousands mean

only one amazing thing

(secretly adoring shyly

tiny winging darting floating

merry in the blossoming

always joyful selves are singing)

“sweet spring is your

time is my time is our

time for spring is lovetime

and viva sweet love”

– e. e. cummings

Teach the children. Show them daisies and the pale hepatica. Teach them the taste of sassafras and wintergreen. The lives of the blue sailors, mallow, sunbursts, the moccasin-flowers. And the frisky ones- inkberry, lamb’s quarters, blueberries. And the aromatic ones- rosemary, oregano. Give them peppermint to put in their pockets as they go to school. Give them the fields and the woods and the possibility of the world salvaged from the lords of profit. Stand them in the stream, head them upstream, rejoice as they learn to love this green space they live in, its sticks and leaves and then the silent, beautiful blossoms.

Attention is the beginning of devotion.

-Mary Oliver

artist: christian schloe

When the time comes for the embryo
to receive the spirit of life,
at that time the sun begins to help.
The embryo is brought into movement,
for the sun quickens it with spirit.

From the other stars this embryo
received only an impression,
until the sun shone upon it.
How did it become connected
with the shining sun in the womb?

By ways hidden from our senses:
the way whereby gold is nourished,
the way a common stone becomes a
and the ruby red,
the way fruit is ripened,
and the way courage comes
to one distraught
with fear.


artist: sarah good

artist: sarah good


the moon is most happy

when it is full.

and the sun always looks 

like a perfectly minted gold coin

that was just polished 

and placed in flight

by God’s playful kiss.


and so many varieties of fruit

hang plump and round

from branches that seem

like a Sculptor’s hands.


I see the beautiful curve of a pregnant belly

shaped by a soul within,


and the Earth itself,

and the planets and the Spheres–


I have gotten the hint:

there is something about circles

the Beloved likes.



artist: unknown

Can I, imprisoned, body-bound, touch

The starry garment of the Oversoul,

Reach from my tiny part to the great Whole,

And spread my Little to the infinite Mulch,

When Truth forever slips from out my clutch,

And what I take indeed, I do but dole

In cupfuls from a rimless ocean-bowl

That holds a million million million such?

And Yet, some Thing that moves among the stars,

And holds the cosmos in a web of law,

Moves too in me: a hunger, a quick thaw

Of soul that melts the ancient bars,

As I, a member of creation, sing

The burning oneness binding everything.


-Kenneth E. Boulding


I’ve been thinking about how this Beginning of an earthly life within my body must be connected to the Spirit that was and is the Beginning of all life. Clean existence. Is it pure consciousness that wiggles inside? Does it have anything to do with consciousness? This urge to Bring Forth is something I can understand bodily now. This desire to Bring Forth, mixed with fear, mixed with trust, mixed with the longing to love and nurture- and to also allow for freedom. Is it something of what god felt when embarking on the creation of this universe?

I can see how having the christ to embody what had mostly been language and stale theology was and has been essential for some of us to get it. The deepest and most sustainable way of Knowing does always seem to come through embodiment- through our bodies and relationships, and interacting with creation.

I’m grateful to be rooted in a tradition that gives wild priority to Incarnation. It’s humble, it’s actual, it’s us, it’s here, it’s now. And there’s not only the fleshing out of it all, but the glorious inner light. the christ within: she quells our anxiety and speaks to us in ways that are entirely secret and almost impossible to express. reminds. suggests. sometimes even sends us what we need. sometimes even withholds what needs to be withheld.

For a little while longer, the identity of our child will be withheld, so that they can grow stronger, and so we can continue on the emotional, preparatory journey that is necessary. I’m not sure how fair it is that only women are able to undergo this experience. It is a marvel. And marvelously uncomfortable at week 35. I am equal parts lord have mercy and thanks be to god.

holding all pregnant women of the world in the Light..”in the burning oneness binding everything.”

All of life is a coming home. Salesmen, secretaries, coal miners, beekeepers, sword swallowers, all of us. All the restless hearts of the world, all trying to find a way home. It’s hard to describe what I felt like then. Picture yourself walking for days in the driving snow; you don’t even know you’re walking in circles. The heaviness of your legs in the drifts, your shouts disappearing into the wind. How small you can feel, and how far away home can be. Home. The dictionary defines it as both a place of origin and a goal or destination. And the storm? The storm was all in my mind. Or as the poet Dante put it: In the middle of the journey of my life, I found myself in a dark wood, for I had lost the right path. Eventually I would find the right path, but in the most unlikely place.

Robin Williams in Patch Adams

(thanks Simon:)


Robin Kimmerer, Excerpt from “Gathering Moss”

“Mosses have a covenant with change; their destiny is linked to the vagaries of rain. They shrink and shrivel while carefully laying the groundwork for their own renewal. They give me faith…I, too, can have a covenant with change, a pledge to let go, laying aside resistance for the promise of becoming.” RK

Tracks and Sign

mossfence“Mosses must be awash in moisture in order for the alchemy of photosynthesis to occur.  A thin film of water over the moss leaf is the gateway for carbon dioxide to dissolve and enter the leaf, beginning the transformation of light and air into sugar.  Without water, a dry moss leaf is incapable of growth.  Lacking roots, mosses can’t replenish their supply of water from the soil, and survive only at the mercy of rainfall.  Mosses are therefore most abundant in consistently moist places, such as the spray zone of waterfalls and cliffs seeping with spring water.

But mosses also inhabit places that dry out, such as rocks exposed to the noonday sun, xeric sand dunes, and even deserts.  The branches of a tree can be a desert in the summer and a river in the spring.  Only plants that can tolerate this polarity can survive here… most mosses are…

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art: found via

the feminine body can be seen as a cauldron of transformation. her body turns things into other things- her body turns an act of love into a perfect little child. yet, in her heart, she knows she did not do it. all she had to do was to wait and eat well, to believe and to hope for nine months. this gives a woman a very special access to understanding spirituality as transformation- if she is able to listen to her own experience and her own body.

once a woman has carried her baby inside her body for nine months and brought it forth through the pain of childbirth and into the world, she knows the mystery of transformation at a cellular level. she knows it intuitively; yet she usually cannot verbalize it, nor does she need to. she just holds it at a deeper level of consciousness.

-richard rohr



artist: jill bliss

all around us we observe a pregnant creation..the spirit of god is arousing us within. we’re also feeling the birth pangs..

waiting does not diminish us, any more than waiting diminishes a pregnant mother. we are enlarged in the waiting. we, of course, don’t see what is enlarging us. but the longer we wait, the larger we become, and the more joyful our expectancy.

meanwhile, the moment we get tired of waiting, god’s spirit is right alongside helping us along. if we don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. she does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans.

she knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our pregnant condition, and keeps us present before god. that’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for god is worked into something good.

romans 8:22-28, the message, abridged