Category Archives: Daily Offerings

Since You Asked (for a friend who asked to be in a poem) Since you asked, let’s make it dinner at your house – a celebration for no reason, which is always the best occasion. Are you worried there won’t … Continue reading →

The Grave-Digger Once, as I was burying one of my dead selves, the grave-digger came by and said to me, “Of all those who come here to bury, you alone I like.” Said I, ” You please me exceedingly, but … Continue reading →

In Praise of My Bed At last I can be with you! The grinding hours since I left your side! The labor of being fully human, working my opposable thumb, talking, and walking upright. Now I have unclasped unzipped, stepped … Continue reading →

What We Want What we want is never simple. We move among the things we thought we wanted: a face, a room, an open book and these things bear our names- now they want us. But what we want appears … Continue reading →

Moon, Flowers, Man I raise my cup and invite The moon to come down from the Sky. I hope she will accept Me. I raise my cup and ask The branches, heavy with flowers, To drink with me. I wish … Continue reading →

Gift A day so happy. Fog lifted early, I worked in the garden. Hummingbirds were stopping over honeysuckle flowers. There was no thing on earth I wanted to possess. I knew no one worth my envying him. Whatever evil I … Continue reading →

Little Things Little things I’ll give to you- Till your fingers learn to press Gently On a loveliness; Little things and new- Till your fingers learn to hold Love that’s fragile, Love that’s old. ~ Marion Strobel

Years From Now Although I cannot see your face As you flip through these poems awhile, Somewhere from some far-off place I hear you laughing – and I smile. ~ Shel Silverstein

Blue Hills Over the North Wall Blue hills over the north wall; White water swirling to the east of the city: This is where you must leave me — A longe puff of thistledown on a thousand mile journey. Ah … Continue reading →

There is a Stream There is a stream which rises halfway down the mountain My father showed it to me place he found in a dream, the withered spirit of an old Indian leading him like a wisp of fog … Continue reading →