When obscurity rises, and
you cannot see where to step next,
your gaze turns ever-so-slightly outward.
Oh, how humbling it is to be human!

Vibrant beauty that once took away breath is a backdrop now; you search for novel sacraments.

He is one of many who,
while walking the road of daily-ness,
catches a fragrance
so tantalizing, so familiar

like no other thing there are categories for,
and cannot not follow it.

Has anything ever been more clear? Anything more obscure?

How do I hold this _______________? (chaos, obscurity, grief, disorientation, restlessness, dark night of the soul…)

Friends, I mustn’t tell you the way,
but lean your heart in close;
I'll cover my whisper.

Feeling a sense of inner stuck-ness? Here's a simple spiritual practice for deep listening.

At the sudden realization of my error, my heart sinks; my face burns hot and red.

You can't see beyond the next step, but you know what it feels like to let go. It’s time to sense into that knowing.

Every single day,
a call to connection arrives on my phone.
The task is simple —
take a selfie
and then hold still
for one more photo —
the view from
where I am.

Love is always a flow. How do we hold these powerful forces with care? Is there a place one can go to say "I'm on fire..."

Every so often, I’m visited by a traveling itch.
I push up my sleeve and scratch deeply,
but this itch is a deft matador.

Here's a poem I wrote from a grounded place -- wisdom from myself to myself. I'll keep these words as an anchor to guide my home.

I didn’t fall down a slippery slope, I kept climbing to escape it.

Listen for your inner wisdom through the prism of poetry with Mary’s Olivers Leaves and Blossoms Along the Way.

Helena Bonham Carter reads Rumi’s The Guest House. What does this welcoming poem stir in you?

What does this short “visual poem” stir in you?

This evocative short-film has been soul nourishment for me. What does it stir in you?