Singer | Creative. I am a musician & storyteller sharing what’s inspiring me to sing, to write, to create a more meaningful, more beautiful life. Discover new music, poetry, and follow me on my songwriting journey.
Locked in manic-tower thoughts, I’ve found a walk beside the ocean, beach-combing along the sunset’s water-braid aglow to be the best of Earth’s solutions to the bursting of my mind’s latch opened to a staircase leading back into my body, spiraled down into the sand around my feet. And in breathing in the love of nature I am rescued from the tangles in my sanity.
In the lost and liquid, grasping at a puddle of words adrift, I am both wave and particle to an accompaniment of rain. Again, I try to sing to you but cannot find my entrances— cannot hear the key changes. My voice falls shapeless, pours too much, yet finds itself still drowned in things I’ve left unsaid.
Written in dreams
On the edge of slumber I wandered in my forest of forgotten songs and poetry where I’ve witnessed my best work be written only to fall and scatter into a soundless sheet of needles, dried-up on the floor of waking.
I would have everything perfectly planned before seeing you — what I would say and what I would do. But the minute you walked in the door I
the world becoming a field of flowers and all — it distracted me. Your scent filling the room.
Me breathing is a prerequisite for me singing, which made it very difficult for me to sing anywhere near you.
Note: I am a singer
I felt compelled to ask you about reincarnation … and we both looked puzzled, but our souls got the question. And I still don’t know how I can explain it — how you’ve always been a part of me no matter what we believe in.
I’d preach it like a bible, as I sing it like a hymn — every word, every note, my devotion to you, as I write it on the walls of temple of the world until everyone believes in what loving you can do.
… refuses to be buried. The bud still unfurls, claws out of the dirt : a crazed, blind mole rat, impossible to catch before it climbs — tunnels its way beyond any reasoning in the brain and commands to be drawn in blood as a flower.
My muscles get sore from all the dancing I do with the thought of you.
I realize now that it wasn’t a matter of choice from the head or the heart. It was my soul that always loved you, and there is no stopping that.
There is a plant who can survive in only ash and ice, and the harshest light.
They are warriors planted in the sky from the rebel grounds of ocean floors.
These plants are known as Silverswords.
These plants grow only here.
They wear their suits reflecting sun and fight the gales in uniform.
However, these knights have a secret they hold much deeper than meets the eye …
Much like the Tin Man in The Wizard of Oz, their quest in life : to find their true hearts.
The heart they’ll hold but keep from light until they are ready to blossom and die…
Each plant then waits in contemplation … years (some up to fifty!) Waiting in their questioning for a moment of truth unfurling.
When they decide to give this heart— breaking bread with dawn’s communion,
they show rare beauty, overflowing, and color the skies with freedom blooming.
Poetry is very much alive in this incredible world!
The majestic Silversword plant grows only at the summit of Mt. Haleakalā on Maui and Mauna Kea on the big island of Hawaii. They arrived an estimated one million years ago on winds from ancestor tarweeds in North America. They are a highly endangered species and are very protected in their volcanic environments by conservation efforts.
Their leaves are covered with tiny silver hairs that reflect the intense sunlight and protect them from radiation at 10,000 feet above sea level. Their striking appearance is compared to a bouquet of shining swords. They can collect water from the snow storms that happen at the summit and store enough water in their leaves to survive the summer.
What makes these plants most awe-inspiring is that they live between 15-50 years, only bloom once in their lifetime, and then immediately die afterwords. It’s like they give thanks to the world and then prostrate themselves.
What a wonder of nature! I am so curious about how each plant knows when it’s their time to bloom… I wonder why some wait decades longer than others before unveiling what they have created inside. Very mysterious…
Their flowering is a spiraling rosette of 30 to 600 disk florets. The flowers are deep plum-colored and look very similar to their relative, the sunflower. These peculiar blooms can tower at over 8 feet tall!
The plant starts drying up after it’s final bloom dies and then it turns into a skeleton. The good news is that a new baby Silversword can then rise up out of the husk of the dead plants. ☺️
I felt very honored to witness the rare flowering of some miraculous Silverswords on Mt. Haleakalā this past weekend.
All of my facts come from my very knowledgeable neighbor, Scott — a Naturalist who has worked protecting Silverswords on Haleakalā for over 20 years!
I’m hypnotized by the rise and fall. I try to match my breaths in sync with the waves — soak in sights, smells, tastes, ( galaxies… too vast ) the breeze on my neck ( too much ) . I will sleep with just the thought of you.
Lost at sea, sound or insane, her compass only points to you.
You drown your navigation maps.
The North Star collapses to a singularity of night that pulls your boat inside her soul.
Light-years beyond fathoms below.
( My heart gets tied to yours. )
Black sand beaches
Black sand beaches line your mind between the ocean and fantasy.
I find you shipwrecked — your eyes are tracing the delicate edges of every wave;
brimmed with thirsting adorations ( your praise to waters heavenly ) …
Tonight, we do not fall from grace,
into the sea.
On the breeze, your song takes the breath of day :
The sun falls for the ocean. A metronome slows to your strum
on a beach. Twilight blushes in the shy of your smile — pearl, half-moons rising in my eyes;
a blossom of harmony for the music that we write.
My voice warms under your hands like a wave (a guitar’s body-shape) that melts to a sizzle of foam on the sand.