image link The seed of a poem lay dormant in my heart. by Valsa George, from “Winged Words“ Trauma rattles like bingo balls in a metal cage, trapped, praying for caller’s graced hand to reach in and release them in correct alignment. It’s almost six. Players shuffle in. Most sit horseshoed with their charms and…
Author: Lisa or Li
mother, grandmother, gardener, observer of nature, reader, writer, learner, bicyclist, woman who runs with the wolves, lover of music, philosophical daoist. Welcome.
Monday chuckles — bluebird of bitterness (4 types of gardeners)
This guy is hilarious. Which one are you? I’m closest to the 2nd one (minus the “hemp.”)
Kerfe’s RWG 4 — Basking
Copperhead snake Mid-morning, a-stupored, I walked to the patio sipping hot cuppajoe in fuzzy bunny slippers. Plopping down in a wrought iron chair, I spied a copper snake wound round umbrella stem; like a glove she was. I raised her head; she put out a forked thread tongue to sniff my tangy unwashed scent. I…
Andrea Martin on ICWA and an Antiracist Child Welfare Policy — Turtle Talk
Andrea Martin has posted “Beyond Brackeen: Active Efforts Toward Antiracist Child Welfare Policy,” forthcoming in the Yale Law and Policy Journal, on SSRN. Here is the abstract: Due to structural racism, legal protections afforded to families of children in the foster care system have been significantly eroded and continue to be challenged. As a result, […]…
dVerse — MTB/Form — Limbo
“Eternal Dance,” by geckobird I’ll admit to you, but to deny to all others my immortal pledge, my plum juicy love the sugar for my tea, crumpet joy of union as incarnations spin, seems dizzy curse through beings, puzzling karmic inequity as we swirl, flawed, an unsolvable jigsaw; at every chance meeting, while aeons flux…
Tanka Tuesday 314 — Shadorma series: earth turns
Winter’s End Thin fish soup, winter’s smile stretches grey and tight; we wait for colors to tiptoe in, warm again, springtime bright. Sunflower Giants sleep, yet seeds in soil’s shade; they dream tall, wait to wake, germinate, as end begins rise, ever stalkward. In Season Spring’s herds stir, winged, furred, scaled, and stemmed, sunclock hot,…
#FF — The Great Builder
PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields I was raised with foundations of a truth that made me prone to earthquakes, floods, drought, and wildfires. The Great Builder assigned worker bees to this aimless wretch. Stone by stone, my foundation was overlaid with bioliths of resonant wonder, kindness, grace, patience, forgiveness, laughter, companionship, guilelessness – and reciprocation….
Tao-Talk 