Turtles at Sanibel

Nothing startled me awake tonight, no dream 

or other need.  

I simply opened my eyes. 

I could just make out the abandon of clothes 

in a bank on the floor, 

palm-held glasses on the bedside table, 

dark wine barely touched, 

the whirr of fan, a sound of surf just beyond 

the sliding screen door.

Lying here, I think of the beach 

as it is right now.

There is peace in the roll of water, 

the ruffle of sea grass in the wind,

a scattering of unbroken shells on the beach,

and the scuttle of hatchlings towards ebb tide 

finding haven on tiny rafts of algae 

that will carry them away 

like refugees clinging to the dark.    

© Susan Muse, 2011  

At the beach; photo by Tony Russell

I Am the Woman

I am the woman who starves for love

And yet has no trouble giving it

I am the woman who loves to dance

And yet aches to find a place to do it

I am the woman who picks up the pen

But often feels it flows inadequately

I am the woman who appears to be altogether

But often wonders who she really is

I am the woman who feels part of the universe

But wants to fill up many souls

I am the woman who aches for comfort

But always will reach out to give it

I am the woman who laughs out loud often

But often wants to break down and cry

I am the woman who wants to feel full in her body

But wants it to keep her warm

I am the woman who writes many hours

But wants to be more contented

I am the woman who wakes up each day to say “Thank You”

But walks among you thanking each one she meets

Thank you for allowing me to be here on this earth

To touch, teach, and comfort you

So that I can be the woman who feels blessed

To be sharing her soul with you.

© 2011,  Hilda Ward

Early morning on the Rivanna; photo by Tony Russell

Sounding

            when the last days come

            we shall see visions

            more vivid than sunsets

            brighter than stars

            we will recognize each other

            and see ourselves for the first time

            the way we really are

It bodies forth burdock, nettle,

dandelion loose leaf.

Sneaks, just below the navel

and calls from blackness beneath

the oceans; scattered echoes resurface,

fine pollen of blue corn.

In wavy shadows of my eye,

each name and place that struggles

to survive memory. 

Out in the desert, you know,

every moment the sun trembles

across the sky is the smallest death,

that you could call the smallest truth.

Somewhere behind

my left shoulder this life

reels—the only full realization

is death, say the Germans. 

Here is another: juniper trees

who reach into the bare red rocks

and have done for centuries—not long

after rocks learned to speak—

who will never say water

cannot be found and is not life.

© Michael Mahoney, 2011

[Opening lyrics from “Against Pollution” 

   by The Mountain Goats]

Dandelion; photo by Tony Russell

come-in-unity (community)

for a brief time

we come into your lives

hoping to find

an open mind

and comfort in humankind

a clenched fist knocks on your door

eager to release it and reach for

a connection between two strangers, a cause and “come in!”

for this truly is where social justice begins

although we cannot step into your house

we will gladly talk with you about

the issues that bother you and what you want to see changed

for you deserve to be listened to

when you call out those issues that need to be named

how close the houses are in proximity

but how distant they feel from unity

too many voices have been silenced

by those who choose fear over kindness

whose sharp words bleed verbal violence

with all the pain and discrimination in this world

i can’t help but wonder what we all are here for

is it not to come in to people’s lives and find

the unifying Humanity that resides    

in the grateful smiles and hands that we shake

in the long lasting connections that we make

for a brief time

we come into your lives

searching to find

like-minds

and although it may be hard to believe

you hold all the power that you need

to transform your situation and community

for when open doors meet open minds

possibilities fill the sky

and we can change all that is unjust and wrong

we can create a community of which everyone belongs

for in this small space

between a front door and welcome mat

our Humanity brushes up against each other

and we exchange just that

for what is a community (come-in-unity) based on but

different people willing to open up

to each other and each concern

for justice is something everyone deserves

and because there will always be

interns working for VOP

who unite under justice and equality

we cannot be discouraged, we cannot weep or cry

because we are standing up for people whose access is denied

therefore, we will continue to door knock

and adopt front porches as our own

for like front porch flowers

there will always be room for hope to grow

© Jona Noelle Baily, 2011

Flower with room to grow; photo by Tony Russell