Here on the driest continent on earth
the smell of rain was named...

Those grey years of angst,
Of treading water in a sea of tears...

My gratitude for the eternal golden light of...
Flooding my lonely darknesses...

I gave and gave
Not enough! they said...

How will I know when my ‘new’ normal has...
I doubt there will be fanfare, fireworks and...

In the curve of her back I could see her pain
and that her very light was dimmed...

Cicadas' thrumming
A golden net of sound...

Unseen eternal radiance of purity,
Illuminating goodness, beauty and truth in all...

In meditation, floating in the ocean of...
Sometimes...

In the calm vibrant stillness of meditation,
Enjoying the Isness of my Being...

It feels like
my words are...

Sometimes the fog of numbness lifts for a minute
And I find myself hard up against the grief...