Tree

Not alone; in peace

and freedom I sway my branches,

dance in the breeze,

worshiping in the rain.

A cool rain that soaks deep,

soaks gently, splashing off

my new growth, running down

last years branches, sinking under,

lower, further, into the hidden places.

Not alone; in stillness

I see the night come. See

the fading light offer stars that

come silently and move their

dream-like pictures across my sky.

A waxing moon slides past.

It keeps its secrets or maybe

whispers them to the stars,

or the angels. I don't mind.

They are humble, never jealous that

all day long the sun overpowers them.

They are faithful, never out of

formation, always on time.

Men trust their lives to the

stars, sailors to the night-sky-truth.

I trust mine to the sun's promise

of tomorrow.

Not alone; I soak in light,

in sunlight. My leaves stretch, grow

larger, and become deeper hues. I grow,

and no one sees me,

and no one hears me,

until I am strong enough to bear the

weight of a tree house,

or am filled with fruit.

Anonymity is fitting for me;

Rain, stars, and sun I contain.

dusk

Dark skin radiating, sweet and pungent
the voice of a mellow sax
alone among the first blue stars.

He moves to the somber sound;
a slow dance, a lumbering gait;
his long lashes catching moisture

of his own tears, mixing with the
sky's as mist rolls against the
stars and nebulae;

rolling, swaying
to the ancient rumble of thunder
in his chest,

running down powerful arms,
taste of bronze night,
mighty as thunder, crying.

Silver leaves

Silver leaves, those feathers from the sky as
falling stars flutter gently to our feet.

Crinkles wrinkle my nose with delight when
cold clean breath touches bark, toe.

Forest scent and prairie night, foxes
red, foxes grey. A whisper to the crescent
moon, a cry,

a secret for the day. A mouse
wiggles in the grass; the feathers move.

We feel it soft beneath our feet begin and
our skin is crawling with the first light when

our hair stands on end, and tight our
hands--the wonder-- as if each ray

spoke answers to our pain and the
cold, cold grasp of thorns all up our clothes

into our skin could not hold back the
deep, deep red of some tropical fish.

Millet Curtain

No one said he had AIDS.
He lay on the dirt
like a small child without a pillow.

We didn’t know how much he
could understand our greeting
from beneath his groaning nothing-blanket;
we did it for his mother’s grateful eyes.

Maybe he could hear us
from behind the millet curtain,
greeting the elderly lady who
fed him and maybe who
dressed him, sometimes.

Today he has remembered to put on underwear.
But even the long loose shirt cannot hide
every rib we count, his face
sunken to reveal the cheek bones,
jaw bones, white teeth, red eyes,
skin thin-stretched over bones and shrinking organs.

The woman says he is sick.

beautiful alone

sometimes, you wonder where
you thought you were
when you looked into
the flames you fanned into being
and in the silence
your failure becomes real

sometimes, you wonder who
you wish you were
you tried to be
who you want to be
and are, or aren't
when you realized you were alone
by that fire

sometimes you forget
what you want
and you release your
desire
or maybe not your desire,
but rather your lust, that
grasping desire that wants for self

sometimes you feel the warmth
when the cold breeze begins
to cut into your skin
you turn to the flame with new eyes

sometimes you turn your back
to the fire and
look up at the stars

you see a shooting star
and the red flame of Betelgeuse
in the shoulder of Orion
like a bleeding wound on that great warrior.

you realize,
not for the first time,
you are small.

and you are beautiful,
alone.

Moon Prayer

Why do I forget

the wind is tossing

forget you are here
the moon glows tonight very clearly: you can see the face in it, and the clouds are orange beside it, cotton candy orange
for some reason
the sunset is like a painting, with living colors behind the silhouettes, colors always changing, so vibrant
I look at my life
depressed, as if you left me
behind.
the silence embraces me with clean passion
as if my plans are what I need
and they don't matter to you
the passion is sinking into me, as stars come, now faintly, now brighter against the deep blue of the sky
but then I
let go
the night wind is getting colder and clouds begin to creep in from the south
I confess my sins
the clouds are making shadows in front of the moon, a beauty so subtle, so wild
And looking around me
I hear the hoot of an owl, the smallest noises piercing the silence, life
I let you love me.

Dancing

Let me, let me, dance before You
In the beauty You bestow
I may not be earthly pretty
But before your Face I glow

Let me show my heart with motion
Let my body join my soul
Let my spirit sing emotion
Let my glory in You grow

So I will dance, yes,
I will fly
I will sway and weave and swing and glorify

I will run, beneath Your
Beautiful night sky
I will dance, I will fly.

Jesus, you have all emotion
You have all strength, all might
You are keeper of all beauty
Everything my heart delights

All to your sweet love releasing
All my body, all my life
I am jumping off that mountain
Into the waterfall of Christ

And I will dance,
I will fly
I will swirl and spin and sing and glorify

I will run
Beneath Your beautiful free sky
I will dance; I will fly

Assessment

Assessment.

Heart: beating
now faintly
pulse surges,
fades;

Grace defies
death-fear:
half-closed eyes.

Breath: there
now shallow,
another deep
gasp.

Life-truth: inhale
mouth, dry;
heat, pale.

Quickly, bind!
pressure stays:
weak blood
life-blood.

Lay my body
in a bath;
the water from
Your side.

Wash my wounds;
bind them.
Your life-blood
for mine.

Fill my lungs
with air,
with You.
Only You I breathe.

My heart cannot
beat alone.
It's You I need.

Lay for the Little Girls

You three
around your work
innocently
you follow

the example of
your mother
and women's work
is not toil for you.

It is your play
as you laugh,
and tease;
as you pound,
and sift,

your hearts light,
too young for
the weary sorrow
that your mothers bear.

What will your eyes see
as the years come,
your soft hands hardened
when play becomes work?

Will you be the first,
or a second wife,
and will your smile
abide, or die
with your first
or second child,
oppressed by the tears
you are forbidden to cry?

And what of your sweet,
child-clean souls,
knowing now only
a god you must appease,
a god far away
full of wrath
unable to keep
evil spirits at bay?

I wrote a song...

Just thought I'd share the lyrics of a song I wrote recently. It is dedicated to my neighbor's young granddaughter, who wanted to eat the delicious looking candy that was actually droppings from our bunny.

Bunny poop is like candy.
Bunny poop is like candy!

It's got
an amazing crunch
So brown
munch, munch, munch!

Bunny poop is like candy!
Bunny poop is like candy.

Ok, I know it's not the kind of song you expected, but you should hear it played. You almost want to go get a plate and fork.

Sometimes I Write Poetry (lame as it may be)

Misery
By MillieJo

Today
I feel
Like hiding in a hole
In the ground
Like a
Badger.

Then if
I saw a
Person, I'd come out
And bite
Him.

And
I would go
Back into my hole a
Very miserable
Animal.

You're Here

Every step I take
You’re here.
The breath of God,
You make my life good.

Yesterday, you were there:
My peace,
My good tomorrow.

My life began
The day I met You,
And it will never end:
I believe You.

When I tremble
Love, You surround me.
Courage and Strength:
Mercy unending.

Take me away!
Lonely, I’m longing.
Forever honeymoon:
I believe you.

But if I stay
My heart is with You,
Consumed with grace
I will step again.

You are here.

Privacy (a valentine's poem)