This poem won 1st Place in Explore California State Parks at the Alameda County Fair 2019. Forest Whisperings The forest,she is calling me. It’s been too long since I’ve wandered her beautiful winding pathways, climbed her mountains just for a gaze of beauty so intense no poem nor photo does justice, admired the way the sun dapples brilliantly through her branches, soaked in the salty smell of ocean entangled with fresh pine. She is calling, and to her, I must soon journey, for within her bosom, I shall be reunited with myself.
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Flyaway Festival Bird Poems
I read both of these poems at the Flyaway Festival on Mare Island on February 11, 2018. Spring in the City Above the rush of the highway, I hear them singing— nestled in trees, relaxing. The birds have returned from journeys afar, carrying melodies, announcing: “It is spring. It is spring. Won’t you join in? Leave your houses and just sing.” Birds in Harmony The two feathery dancers were soaring in the wild winds, as birds from every continent intermingled with the stars. The air swirled with excitement for the concert was about to begin. Every creature for miles could not wait to listen in. The parrots came…
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Listen!
It was truly an honor to be able to share this poem today at Artiszen for the group of visionary, world-changing activists, architects, and environmentalists gathered there for Resilient by Design. Listen! Listen! Do you hear that? Our Mother, she is calling. She weeps with a broken heart. She begs for her children to treat her with love. For her children to act out of gratitude. Their existence relies upon her. *Sigh* But only some of her children choose love. They take her messages to heart, and they shout them from the rooftops. Others still heartlessly plunder her house, her patience, her time, her heart, leaving it barren. Her tears…
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Muddy Boots, Mirrored Lakes
Muddy Boots, Mirrored Lakes A vineyard is just a fancy word for grape farm. The grass is green. The leaves are yellow. The rain has fallen. The turkeys are perched high on fence posts like guardians. It’s a good day for hiking. Just south of the roaring highway. Strolling softly as birds join in joyful conversations. I hurry not as the trucks do. I’ve got nowhere and no one to be. Here among the hills, I am free. Watch a video of this poem by clicking here.
