Art Festival

An event the City of Wausau looks forward to every year. Seeing our favorite artists, discovering new treasures, and best of all, bumping into friends. “Stop” and take in the inspiration.

Festival of Arts

Festival of Arts

Art immersion
Live jazz mood set
White tents, painted canvas
Air filled with swing, chatter,
and talk of cheese curds
as strollers take in art.
Our art
like fresh air for the soul
Something for everyone
Especially bumping into friends
Waves across the square
Hugs and high “hi” voices
Young, old
coupled hands entwined
Love of cutting boards, fine art
and each other.

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9/11 Day of Remembering

Even 20 years later, there are a lot of emotions around this day when the twin towers in New York City were bombed and collapsed. What we felt after the horror, was love. Remember that feeling of love, of pulling together.

9/11 Day of Remembering

The day the world stopped
the day we got perspective
the day we loved
and hugged
and called old friends
and cherished the people in our lives
cherished our life
realizing it can be taken away.

The anniversary of tragedy
becomes a day to remember
remember to love
and all that matters is love.

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This Place Fills Me

At my happy place today…ah…. The only electricity is in me and nature. A place where I can read in my rocking chair and nap and create. Wrote this poem there today. Enjoy!

This Place Fills Me

Ticking clock adds energy
to the small room
with windows and doors open
electric breeze flows through
with the bee
and milkweed seed.
Bee Balm tea
and red wood incense
cleanse me,
clear me.
This place fills me
from tree root
to divine sky
I shine
I glow!

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Day of All Days

After a few busy weeks, I got a day to do my favorite things: rock, ready, write (and nap). A true day of rest. This poem came from a mix of my reading about the Northern World between 800 and 1100 AD, eating chocolate and drinking fresh picked wild Bergamot tea in my rocking chair surround by the forest. Heaven. Enjoy the funky poem.

Day of All Days

Day of All Days

I have drunk from Odin’s mead of poetry,
Mead of Suttungr,
words birthing from my fingers
threaded through my heart
fed by the source Yggdrasil.
These words on this day,
a day of all days.
Surrounded by trees
best friend to gods and man alike.
Feeling the same breeze,
the same sweet smell of summer
as the ancestors
on this day in circular time
marked only by words shared and tasted.
Hear me beloveds
warriors, wives, tenders of land and lambs
this is the day to feast and emanate joy
for this is the day of all days
the last and the first. 

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Nature Sounds

Do you ever sit outside with eyes closed and just listen. We feast so much with our eyes that we forget we can “see” with our ears as well. Here’s the poem from my listening feast.

Nature Sounds

Nature Sounds

Close my eyes
and rock in small motion
forward, back
Beauty of nature sounds
clunking frogs are resting
giving birds and bees the sound stage.
Constant tweets and shrills, 
passing nasalization of a Mallard,
mew of catbird,
Doppler effect bee,
a bird takes flight
air compresses under his wings.
Something walks through the brush,
twig snaps,
probably a doe.
I nap
lulled by the woodsy brand of quiet
roused by engines of a hummingbird
and the splash of muskrat
navigating pond weeds.
Maybe that’s why the frogs have muted.

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Wine in the Wilderness

Last night we had a summer storm that lasted about 20 minutes. We quickly drove to the cottage, Chris is fertilize the field and me to finish my glass of wine sitting on the porch to immerse. Lovely. Here is the poem.

Wine in the Wilderness

Wine in the Wilderness

Wine in the wilderness
with the rain approaching
Feeling the pressure drop
the sky snuggle in.
Drops begin to fall on leaves and pond
sending ripples through me
Faster now
More urgent
The land-drink
Sip of wine
Wet and faster
Summer storm
Drops plunging into my glass
My skin drinks
with the fields.
There is calm
in a storm
a kind of awe for rain
Sip of wine
I go still and feel
and breathe
and drink with the sumac
the brief summer glass.

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Midnight Wind

Sometimes waking up in the night is so wonderful. The stars, the lightning bugs, the moon, the sky…wow. This poem comes from a wind whipped wake up. Enjoy the poem and embrace those little wake-ups.

Midnight Wind

Midnight Wind

Midnight wind
horsetail tree tops
turning the moon on and off
like a light switch.
Tenacious lightning bugs flicker too
as the mottled soup of sky
churns overhead.
A night of pucker and pluck
yet no rain.
We hold on
with the birds in their nests
rocking with gusts and swells.
Land like sea
is sometimes rough
its Sirens the windchime
luring us.
We pitch and roll
and lean into the wind headfirst.
This is the best way to take on the unexpected.

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Spirit Animal Bear

This little stone bear randomly came with a book on Spirit Animals. It didn’t seem like bear was right for me until I read its meaning. My primary fear has always been a security fear. The bear is my protector. I can relax knowing she is looking out for me.

The bear is associated with the root chakra. During my years of teaching Yoga, I learned that people tend to carry tension in their jaw, neck, shoulders or hips. It is hips for me so the bear and her influence on the root chakra protect my emotional, spiritual and physical health.

Spirit Animal Bear

Spirit Animal Bear

Respected boundaries
around a warm den.
Open my root wheel
emotional and spiritual self
instincts, intuition alert and alive.

Safe place to love fiercely.
Safe place to hibernate
to rest and rejuvenate.
Ever the omnivore
round and adaptive
hungry for life and love.

I rest in her defenses
open my body
open my present senses
needs met – comfort, safety, belonging
making way for playfulness and creativity.

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Restful Day

It was my favorite weather yesterday, cool, clouds with some relaxing sprinkles. Perfect to rest and recharge. Enjoy.

Restful Day

Restful Day

Listening to the rain
tap on the saw-tooth oak leaves.
Soft dapples of sound surround.
The white sky so perfect,
so ethereal.
Twerps of sweet birds
give melody to the hush of rain.
A forest lullaby
sang to me
on this drowsy day.
A break from the drill of sun
to give the land a drink,
to give me permission to be slow,
rest, and plump with green.

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Full Flower Moon

This tea wisdom inspired a poem on the full moon, the full Flower Moon of May.

Last year, I put together a protection pouch for my car. It came in handy last weekend when my car was stolen and promptly found unharmed in minutes. Thank you Marathon County Police Department. To clean and recharge with good energy the items in the pouch, it has been sitting under the full flower moon for three nights. Today it is ready to go back in my car.

Likely you are wondering what goes in a protection pouch: eggs shells, dried sage, cinnamon stick, black tourmaline, and clear quarts tied in a cloth pouch that I embroidered with a protection sigil.

It can’t hurt to have something that attracts safety. Enjoy the poem and notice the moon.

full flower moon

Full Flower Moon

Are not flowers the stars of the earth?
– Clara Lucas Balfour.

How wonderful
a misty juicy sky
holding the full flower moon
in a cradle of gray blooms

Moisture and sun and moon
to grow the stars of the earth
to open our pores and breath and eyes
vining in colors and petals
planetarium of the fields
planetarium of the soul
earth and sky our cocoon
transforming us into butterflies

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