Elizabeth Cunningham

Author of The Maeve Chronicles

…your path is waiting

Where is mountain, where is sky? Mist and cloud may know or merge unknowing: where is water, where is air? Between peak and valley, day and night, where am I?  […]

…it’s enough

it is all poetry, even a dark morning at the end of Fall, twisting oak branches revealed, small birds and the last lacy leaves still holding fast rivers and rivulets […]

ecstasy

ecstasy takes time, even if it lasts moments you have to slow down so ecstasy can find you the way the light finds each plant in the sweep of day […]

…the way

I am barefoot, sometimes the way is soft, a frog leaps pondward, touching my foot, the birds keep watch I don’t know where I am going, what I will find […]

…listening to the ground

no objective correlative for this hard time more life in a desert than in desolation this grief is punctuation. stop. what can be next? the pressure of sorrow and terror, […]

…bear witness back, be here

frost in the night, shining at dawn, melting at noon  flowers give up the ghost on black funeral stalks I come with the clippers and cart away my dead  light […]

Pause

between summer and fall between one political convention and the other between the full blue moon and the next new moon between holiday and school between breath in, breath out […]