has my heart gone to sleep (a poem by antonio machado)

has my heart gone to sleep?

have the beehives of my dreams

stopped working, the waterwheel

of the mind run dry,

scoops turning empty,

only shadow inside?

no, my heart is not asleep.

it is awake, wide awake.

not asleep, not dreaming-

its eyes are opened wide

watching distant signals, listening

on the rim of vast silence.

-antonio machado (1875-1939)

the tree hugger

it was a full circle moment, coming home to you,

your arms held out in greeting

as though you had been anticipating my return.

how safe i felt cradled in your branches

all those years ago,

when climbing 10 feet off the ground

felt like i had scaled mount everest.

you were my hiding place, a refuge and fortress,

a castle, from which i surveyed my kingdom, and

the crow's nest of a sea-tossed pirate ship,

my very own swiss family robinson treehouse, and

a trusted confidant to whom i whispered secrets

dearest old friend...give me a hug

-stacy wills (6/13/2011)

everything works together

everything works together

a bump in the road

becomes a stepping stone

or a bridge

that takes us to a better place

we couldn't have gotten to

any other way

paths we would not have chosen

somehow seem to choose us

and lead us

to ever-widening worlds

-stacy wills (6/10/2011)

the rose window

my beautiful cedar,

i love the way sunlight

pours through your branches

as through stained glass -

how fitting a rose window you are

in nature's grand cathedral

-stacy wills (6/3/2011)

source image: grandmother cedar

the cecropia moth's final resting place

three feet off the ground

in a hollow of the old cedar tree

is an altar of sorts.

and in that sacred space

i laid the cecropia moth

my husband found

lying lifeless in the street,

mostly intact - save a

tattered wing.

i imagined how many

others passed it by,

but he saw beauty

in a broken thing

and thought

to bring it home

to me.

-stacy wills (5/16/2011)

unfurl yourself

unfurl yourself

into the grace of beginning

that is at one

with your life's desire...

-john o'donohue (1956-2008)

green is such a hopeful color

after the rain, i stepped outside

and found squirrel waiting for me

on her favorite perch in the cedar tree.

we watched a red-headed woodpecker

swoop down to tap out a message

on a hollow branch. it seemed urgent, but

neither of us could quite make out what he was saying.

the world is so green this time of year, i said.

green is such a hopeful color, squirrel replied.

yes it is, said i, and we were quiet for awhile.

-stacy wills (5/3/2011)