I wonder

if the mountains

compare themselves

to each other,

worrying that another

may be taller,

more symmetrical,

more likely to be climbed.

Two-lane highway across New Mexico,

layered mountains and mesas,

seas of cactus and pinon

floating in filmy fog.

Alone and still

for the first time in days,

thoughts swirl,

music conjures emotion.

Tears appear at the intersection

of how blessed I am

and how restless I can become.

Purple sky

releasing gentle flakes

onto frustrated travelers

           standing in slush

          waiting for shuttles

beauty.

Tired passengers

sharing phones and smiles

with frustrated travelers

         stranded for hours

         desperate for destinations

kindness.

Hundreds

Of

Miles

End

Here.

Oh

Marvelous

Enchantment

Hanging

Over

My

Entrance!

Heart

Overflows

Magical

Excitement,

Happiness

Overwhelms

My

Eyes.

Lying on snow

dizzy with stars

we lost, then found

what it all means,

how we must live.

With all due respect,

I know you have a very important job,

and a very difficult job, I would imagine.

You’ve been working hard lately

and I would just like to suggest

that you take some time off, or at least

take your work elsewhere for a while.

I need time to replenish my well of tears,

time to mend my black veil.

I trust you will consider this request

and, in doing so, suspend any judgment

regarding my stubborn desire

for a shadowless joy.

Sincerely,

Emily

the morning, the snow,

presence to unwrap

with each step forward

For the brave boys whose words amaze and surprise me…

Young voices gush into notebooks,

flooding pages with depth and meaning.

Whispers become louder,

turning into confident shouts

as they play around with words,

begin to trust their innate wisdom,

aware, for maybe the first time,

that they have something to say.

Sometimes their passion feels so fragile

I fear it will snap or shrink or retreat,

so I hold my breath

            hoping…hoping…hoping

it will take root,

then sprout into the words

that will ignite their young hearts.

Staring

at this surly sky

I scowl,

squirm,

and succumb

to a sour state

of sticky

silence.

Suddenly,

surrender

seems sweet

and solitude

soothes.

Surprise!

First, remove the onions’ crisp jackets

then wipe away tears as your knife creates all manner of rectangles.

Watch the butter paint the pan before you overwhelm it with onions.

Hear the sizzle, smell the comfort, as the onions begin to soften,

as if they have just encountered magnificent kindness.

While the onions swoon, attend to the garlic,

prying nestled cloves from their snug families,

then cracking away their stiff clothing.

Crush and press their tenderness into pungent snow,

piling in the pot’s center, startling the onions.

Next come the green chilies, completing the holy trinity,

releasing the scent of all that is right in the world.

Create confetti as your spoon flips and flops,

then fetch the stockpot of kernels  whose hearts

have finally cracked open under the broth’s loving caress.

Add the hominy to the vegetables and baptize with more broth.

Meanwhile, remove hissing tomatoes from the oven,

then blend the bursting bodies and flame-stained skins

into a silky, steaming puddle of hope.

Allow the red liquid to flow into the pot,

add crushed chilies, vinegar, brown sugar, salt,

and stir, stir, stir,

until you taste the alchemy of a few simple ingredients

nurtured into the miracle of hot stew on a cold night.