Dangling Free and Easy

Wrapped in a Book

November's Fog Adrifting

All Together Now

Mudra

Alight

Floating

On Poetry

The poet lives and writes at the frontier between deep experience and the revelations of the outer world. There is no going back for the poet once this frontier has been reached; a new territory is visible and what has been said cannot be unsaid. The discipline of poetry is in overhearing yourself say difficult truths from which it is impossible to retreat. Poetry is a break for freedom. In a sense all poems are good; all poems are an emblem of courage and the attempt to say the unsayable; but only a few are able to speak to something universal yet personal and distinct at the same time; to create a door through which others can walk into what previously seemed unobtainable realms, in the passage of a few short lines.

David Whyte

evening snowfall

evening snowfall
like waning moons my footprints
turning homeward

Rumors of Spring

Winter Tree

Dew Holding the Sky

Dew

the morning dewdrop

suspended over my head
holds blue sky within

Rising

 

Standing in Stillness