Tea in the Labyrinth

Sneaking in posting my second Sugar Creek Labyrinth poem before work. Need to catch-up on Poetry writing month. Enjoy the poem my loves.

9 Tea in the Labyrinth
Tea in the Labyrinth

Every day the labyrinth
brings more calm.
Warm tea mug in my hands
as I loop the familiar path in. 
Tea blesses me
in this ancient geometry,
in this driftless land,
in this generation of fauna.
I am fauna too
egocentric that time matters.
My consciousness though can matter
adding to the web of consciousness
transcending time. 
In this space
is kindness
made sanctuary by many hearts
in the bowl of rock bluffs
and nest of dwellings for gathering,
creating, and reflective solitude. 

I thank the labyrinth
with the last drips of tea.
The horses
quiet nearby
grouped around hay bails.
I am quiet too
taking with me
as I leave this place,
as i leave the labyrinth,
A piece of unlimited kindness
of unlimited calm. 

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Labyrinth at Sugar Creek

A labyrinths is a calm place, a meditation tool. How wonderful that so many retreat centers have labyrinths. Sugar Creek Bible Camp where I stayed last weekend was no exception. Here is one of the two labyrinth poems that came out of my walks. Imagine yourself inside one as you read the poem.

8 Labyrinth at Sugar Creek
Labyrinth at Sugar Creek

Rata-tat-tat of wood pecker
Crunch of stones
Orchestra of birds
Subtle trickle of Sugar Creek
Cool breeze

Center looking out
at each corner
Meandering creek
Sorrel horse
Path to the bluffs

Center looking in
Mind like the birds
Mind like the creek
Soft like horse mane
Still like the trees
with a gentle breeze

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Grazing Horses

This past weekend, I stayed at a 634 acre camp called Sugar Creek Bible Camp with a group of ladies. We talked and hiked soaking up being social after the pandemic staved us for girlfriend time. While the camp was a beautiful natural spot, what surprised me the most was my fascination with the horses pastured outside our lodge. This poem came out of sitting in a rocking chair watching them. Another form of meditation I guess is grazing horses.

7 Grazing Horses

Grazing Horses


Grazing Horses

Calming like

watching a fish tank

Swish of tail

Kaleidoscope of movement

Graceful gait

Ripple of flesh

Sway of hips

Curve of back

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Goddess Yemana

Here in central Wisconsin, we have had wonderful spring rain on and off for the past several days. There is something so soothing and invigorating about rain especially in spring when everything is dry and brown. For today’s spirit poem, I pulled a card from my Goddess Tarot deck. How perfect to get Yemana. Enjoy the poem and hope for rain.

6 Goddess Yemana
Goddess Yemana

bringer of rain
bringer of life
nurturer of earth
divine balance
spring goddess
I take her in
I too leafout
and green
kissing the rain.

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Rain on Me

Poetry writing month. This spirit poem came from the glorious rain last night around midnight. I had forgotten how wonderful are all the sights and sounds and energy of a thunderstorm. Enjoy the poem and rain storms.

5 Rain on Me
Rain on Me

It took a storm
to reignite me.
That sky flicker
like a charging light-bulb,
that approaching grumble.
Eggs of rain
break open on the windowsill
break open my winter introversion.
I jump up.
This is spring rain
reviving bodies, trees, grass, wildflowers
Wild rain
Wild woman
An experience
I flicker too
and light like the horizon.
The grumble softens
to a soothing purr
A promise
A charge
Rain on me.

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Day four Poetry writing month. A photo from yesterday’s nature walk. I love rubbing the fluffy things of spring between my fingers. Pussy-willow catkins, thistledown, and cattail fluff. Fluff may seem insignificant but as we know, it’s the little things…. Enjoy the poem and add some fluff to your every day.

4 Fluff


so small and light
it floats away on the breeze

carrying the seeds of the future

little niceties
please and thank-yous
so small and light
they float away on the breeze

carrying the keys to relationship

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Flower Symbol for Easter Blessings

Day 4 of Poetry writing month 2021 lands on Easter Sunday. Borrowing from ancient cultures, I drew a traditional flower symbol (with my own flourish of a stem and leaves added for extra luck). It is fun to play with symbols and connect with ancestors and cultures on which our own is built. Enjoy the poem and good flower fortune to you and your family as well!

3 Flower Symbol for Easter
Flower Symbol for Easter Blessings

Pre-science cultures
Power of symbolism
Ostara, Easter
Spring blessings for the fields
Symbol of the flower
Growth and good fortune
to grace our home, family
and bring abundance.

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Power of Quiet

National/Global Poetry Writing Month 2021. Continuing on the theme of Spirit poems. This one is inspired by a quiet Saturday morning. Time in my own quiet energy is always renewing. Enjoy the poem.

2 Power of Quiet

Power of Quiet

There is not a true quiet
for even absence of sound
is a sound.
Quiet is only sounds of the natural
and maybe supernatural
where you can hear yourself
feel yourself
and the goldfinch
and the tulip.
At first it feels fearful
then calm begins to trickle in
and love
pure love.


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Balance Consume and Create

April is National/Global Poetry writing month. I am a day behind but will catch up soon. The theme this year is Spirit Poems. Balance is healthy in so many ways. Happiness comes from, in part, our conditions in life but more so from the activities we choose. Balancing activities that consume with that were we create, I believe, is key to a happy spirit.

1 Balance Consume and Create
Balancing Consume and Create

I create an intention for good health
and eat a bowl of strawberries
sweet tart and firm
studded with tiny seeds.
Let us plant seeds
pepper, squash, tomatoes and herbs,
starts for the summer garden.
Upon taking in a book
there is reflection and enrichment
to my story.
There is making with my hands
art in all its forms
from pie to watercolors
and devouring the art of fellows
to inspire more making.
I taste and touch and watch,
but it is what I create that fills me.

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Three Days of Wind

It has been windy here in Central Wisconsin for three full days. The wind chime is tingalingalinging and we are lulled to sleep by the whistling windows. It must be change of seasons. Enjoy the poem!

Three Days of Wind
Three Days of Wind

Three days of wind
wrestling of the seasons
strengthening of the bending trees
and a cozy howl heard from our hollows.

It will end with rain
to green the straw mat of winter kill
and feed the fawns and lambs.

It will blow in that itch
to dig and cultivate
hands in the waking earth.

We too swirl and blow
on this full worm moon
wriggling, restless,
ready to burst out of our shells.

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