The poem and the poet

I reach deep into your core

Reminding you of things past,

Long forgotten

Or even


I reverberate

What once was

What once lived deep within

And all of those left behind

Whether intentional or not.

I reach out to those

Long past places of your experiences

Finding those lost regions

Of silent and invisible feelings.

I travel far into your depths

Reaching almost to your core

To bring forward

Your neglected and distant


I am the poem.

Written by the poet.

Who knows and understands

The deep and distant

geography of your soul.

Release yourself

When the dawn breaks

Separating the darkness from the light

And a streak of pink light

Crosses the sky above you

Understanding begins to awaken


And when you finally see

what finally lies under the surface

The precious that has always been

You have arrived

May your beloved wait for you still

To take you home

Finally to where you belong


When the darkness

Arrives to close the day

The light slowly ebbs

Golden, pink, gray

And, soft black circles around you

Come to the only shelter you know

You release yourself

To another

Nourished by belonging




Sunset in Bennington, VT – August 2014 at Southern Vermont College – the old Holy Cross Novitiate










The sacred touch.

The sacred touch.

You reach to touch.

Nothing intellectual.

All felt.

You try to coax me out of my world.

To come into being in yours.

Your touch says IĀ belong.

I either let you in or keep you out.

I either pretend I didn’t feel the touch

or IĀ envelop the touch into my world.

The sacred touch.

Makes me alive and awakened.

Healed and redeemed.

When nothing else will do.

The sacred touch speaks to me.

When your words cannot.

I either allow or deny.

The sacred touch

provides me shelter in my storm.

Or surrounds me with joy and elation.

In the sacred touch.

You become known and revealed,

mystery and possibility.

The distance evaporates.

My soul belongs

in the Holiness of your simple sacred touch.