This ceremony was enacted for the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship in Alamosa, Colorado and the article appeared on the blog, "Postcards from Shamans", January 2019.
She Who Hears the Cries of the World: the writing of Winter Ross
Thursday, January 2, 2025
Recipe for a New Year's Ritual
Sunday, December 29, 2024
Silencio. Seduction whispered in Spanish
Silencio. The seconds separating lightning from thunder
Oh-dark-hundred in the pre-dawn desert
Streets muffled with snow
Sand dunes mute in starlight
A cenote’s cerulean depth
The sun eclipsed.
Silencio. After the baby finally falls asleep
Silencio. Between a flutist’s inhale and the note
The breath you hold as your daughter raises the flute to her lips
The theater’s hollow hush when rehearsal ends
Smoke from the last cigarette
Spilled wine, blood-bright, seeping into a linen tablecloth
A brush about to touch canvas, the painting titled, “Still Life with Stopped Clock.”
Silencio. A legend about insanity should you linger in the quietest room ever built
Silencio. The E.R. with no patients at 3 a.m.
Abandoned cemeteries; empty cathedrals; sitting Zazen
Your dying mother opening her eyes and smiling
Night so deadened you hear your own heartbeat
Yet, Silence is impossible to know…
The inner ear’s white noise will never leave you.
Photo credit: Michael Frye Photography
Friday, December 27, 2024
We all remember our first love. It's been decades since mine left me behind. But three months ago, he showed up in a dream so intense, I had to respond. Hence this poem. I just heard he's recently passed on...
You Are Still Seventeen
You are still seventeen
When you slide into the pool of my dream
Bare-chested, smooth-faced
Dark hair slicked to one side
You reach across the water
I am still fifteen
When you lace long fingers through mine
A surgeon’s hands, I say
You read my palm
An artist’s hands, you say
You would be seventy-five today
Why have you swum out to visit me at 3am
The last morning of September?
To say you’re sorry? To say goodbye?
I will always love you
photo credit: Darran Shen, Unsplash
Friday, December 20, 2024
This is Haibun, a form created by the famous Haiku poet, Basho. It consists of 1-3 paragraphs of prose poem in first person and ends with a haiku that sums up or relates to the narrative prose. Themes are travel, time, and place. American Haibun is less rigid in its requirements, but I liked the challenge of the traditional form. I recently had to opportunity to stay at a retreat center in Colorado and this poem arose from the experience. If you're curious about Chod, here's a link to my article:
https://www.spiritualityhealth.com/feeding-your-demons
Upon Encountering a Ghost at Red Jewel Mountain Monastery
My winter solstice sanctuary is a one-room guest house behind the Buddhist temple where raveling prayer flags beseech the wind. I hobble the stoney path between here and there, to meet the nuns. We practice Chöd, feeding our demons in an ancient Tibetan ritual of drums, bells, chants, and visions.
I’ve spoken only once to the wine-robed women this week, so perhaps that’s the reason an old young lover visits in a morning dream. He folds his slender white body over mine like a blanket; he curls against my spine as if it were possible to warm himself. Why do I apologize to him, after all these years, when it should be the other way around?
Peaceful and Wrathful
Deities stare down from the walls
All of them are me
photo credit: Sylwia Bartyzel, Unsplash
Wednesday, December 11, 2024
Northwind Writing Award
Saturday, January 1, 2022
Friday, March 5, 2021
Three articles for Spirituality & Health magazine:
"Throwing the Bones: Finding Your Future"
https://www.spiritualityhealth.com/articles/2021/02/05/throwing-the-bones
"The Hoodo Blues"
https://www.spiritualityhealth.com/articles/2021/02/23/the-hoodoo-blues
"The Talking Tree: Science, Myth and Healing"
May, June 2021 print issue: Spirituality & Health magazine