In the Whirlwind (written for the community of Saint Francis Xavier, NYC, upon the Tenth Anniversary of September 11th) I am the Love that rises, always rises… I rise with the sun, and I rise with the moon… I rise to draw down like gravity, toward the center, and I rise to set free, loosing…

After a two-year hiatus filled with colossal adventures, I began a new academic year this past Wednesday. Thanks to subbing for a world culture/geography class, I could begin writing about the experience with traveling 6 or 7 times to Brazil with at least 100 kids; or lunch duty where one tub of applesauce went down…

I have described this past month in many ways to people… Living poetry, transparent freedom, being in the veil–not on one side or the other, but in the midst, standing between, breathing deeply in the astounding place where divinity and humanity touch… I was part of an annual educational project in Leon, Mexico, that worked…

…so many different ways. I could start with enchiladas, guacamole, agua de jimaica, quesadillas, limonada, té de albahaca… I could start with compañera, friend,quiet sittingbeing, laughingliving free… I could start with roosters, rooftops,rising abovethe poverty of certaintyyouth wanting to serve… But were I to begin a poem for you about these last eleven days, I…

I’d think that by now I might have caught on. Yes, perhaps after a toe across the line of four decades, it would be expected. But nope. The plain fact is adventure brings a bit of chaos along for the ride as well as the grace to forget that part until the next time around….

I have a little story to tell. Earlier this spring, my husband won three tickets to a concert presented by the symphony orchestra of a nearby city–featuring Mozart’s Requiem. We debated for a few days about taking Trinity, our four-year old granddaughter, to such an adult event. In the end we decided to give it…

When I used to work for the public library system, we had a collection of bikers that would often stop by the branch where I worked. Bandanas, tattoos, Frye boots, machines that rumbled with the easily identifiable soft edged “pahtaytah-pahtaytah-paytaytah.”… really. Other folks would scatter when they’d enter but I recognized them. They reminded me…

From RevGals! Summer Reruns Friday Five It’s that time of year when the only new things on television are music/dance competitions (the 21st century answer to variety shows?). Yes, it’s the season of reruns. This week the clock turned back to last fall and the Glee kids went back to school and still got “slushied,”…