Heaven with You


My fingers are smudged in color
–reds, golds, greens and blues
 –like I’ve dipped my hands into
endless galaxies and wiped 
a thousand stars upon my skirt.

My head is spinning with
the gravity of a dozen planets,
and I lean into the tidal pull
of at least that many moons.
When they rise across the sky–

will you raise your voice and
howl at them with me, while
a thousand shooting stars
light up the night, exploding
in the atmosphere of my flesh?




Astronomy (a tanka)


Call me a dreamer.
You always seem to find me
with stars in my eyes.
I still believe in magic.
I find it in the night sky.



If a haiku is usually thought of as a 3-line, 5-7-5 syllable poem, then the tanka would be a 5-line, 5-7-5-7-7 syllable poem. It’s better to think of a tanka as a 5-line poem with 3 short lines (lines 2, 4, 5) and 2 very short lines (lines 1 and 3). While imagery is also important in tanka, the form is a little more conversational than haiku, and allows for the use of poetic devices such as metaphor and personification.


Her Eyes (a Triolet)


There are galaxies in her eyes,
and gazing into, them I fall —
like spinning across the night skies.
There are galaxies in her eyes.
I find myself there, with surprise,
in eyes potent enough to enthrall.
There are galaxies in her eyes,
and gazing into them, I fall.


An 8 line poem. The first line of the poem is used 3 times and the second line is used twice. There are only 3 other lines to write: 2 rhyme with the first line, the other rhymes with the second line.


A (first line)
B (second line)
a (rhymes with first line)
A (repeat first line)
a (rhymes with first line)
b (rhymes with second line)
A (repeat first line)
B (repeat second line)


For small creatures such as we the vastness is bearable only through love. – Carl Sagan


I have a lover who stargazes with me.

We began our journey under a crescent moon, and stumbled our way to the full, in a pool beneath the night sky. Ever since those first encounters, we’ve been wandering in an ocean of magical light and energy, marveling at stardust, enthralled by the moon in all her prowess. He gazes at me, as I breathe in the night, and he turns his face to the heavens, squeezes my fingers in his, as the wonder of eternity unfolds before us. He believes we are made of star-stuff, and inhales that vastness with me. He and I are similar, in this view of the universe. I knew it the moment I listened to the first song he sent me. “A Thousand Years” by Sting very much took my breath.


This love we share is full of mystery, galaxies unfolding in my head. He is a musician, an artist, a bohemian spirit with his own unique way of thinking, loving, living. I am a poet girl, artist, barefoot gypsy dreamer. We are like a window opening on the great wide expanse that is the night sky, and when I think I’m beginning to understand, the world tilts, the moon slips behind a cloud, and the window closes. The more we unwind, the more mystery I find.

From the first time we met, there has been this resonance between us. He reminds me, more than ever, to turn my face upward, and note what small creatures we truly are. Still, to be so small, we are not insignificant. We have power, and influence, as the tiniest pebble upon the surface of an ocean. We create ripples, we have energy, we make a difference. We make art, music, poetry, and love.

This week, I found again a favorite poem by Rainer Maria Rilke:

Overflowing heavens of squandered stars
flame brilliantly above your troubles. Instead
of into your pillows, weep up toward them.
There, at the already weeping, at the ending visage,
slowly thinning out, ravishing
worldspace begins. Who will interrupt,
once you force your way there,
the current? No one. You may panic,
and fight that overwhelming course of stars
that streams toward you. Breathe.
Breathe the darkness of the earth and again
look up! Again. Lightly and facelessly
depths lean toward you from above. The serene
countenance dissolved in night makes room for you.

–Rainer Maria Rilke, Paris, April 1913, 
from _Uncollected poems_ selected and translated
by Edward Snow New York : North Point Press, 1996

The very idea that the overwhelming vastness of space — those depths lean in, making room for our gaze, our face, our presence — this is the wonder that takes my breath and prompts me to reach for his hand.

Along the Galaxy’s Edge


My toes rooted
in the earth
my head so high
in the night sky
moonlight scatters
diamonds in my hair

your voice whispers
at my shoulder,
your breath against
my ear, we two are
voyeurs, as Venus
and Jupiter dance

This magic does not
scare you; you don’t
shrug or roll your eyes
gazing with me into
eternities — we are ageless

children of the universe
your words are sweet
as summer ice cream
you make me believe this
walk along the galaxy’ edge
is a highlight of your day