allah
yahweh
jesus
lord
father
heavenly faather
holy father
creator
mother
gaia
goddess
the universe
cosmic consciousness
the divine
the beloved
mother earth
father sky
the great spirit
the whole of things
lord
hanuman
shiva
ganesha
parvati
durga
lakshmi
pan
bacchus
zeus
diana
mercury
aphrodite
demeter
artemis
cupid
saraswati
kali
brahma
brahman
vishnu
krishna
the grim reaper
yama
the angel of death
the angel of mercy
the holy spirit
the trickster
coyote
the force
prana
chi
vital energy
reiki
grace
light
angel
seraphim
guide
spirit
ghost
faery
kind
astarte
inanna
set
isis
osiris
zoroaster
odin
the unknown
all that is
all that is good
all that i hold dear
the ground i walk on
the infinite
the ocean of being
the stars
fate
the plan
his plan
him
what’s in store
in the cards
what is written
the prophets say
it has been foretold
our people
the nature of things
nature
the forces of nature
the voices
my heart
the truth
the true
the ancestors
those who came before
now
the moment
the cosmic dance
the illusion
the story
the world
existence
life
second-hand black cast iron pot
fancy grease-stained stainless steel kettle
wooden spoon
fiddle
flute
pale rose silk pajamas
lace-trimmed sheer white silk dressing gown
unwieldy organic unbleached cotton kimono
socks
scratchy bar of oatmeal soap
almond lavender liquid soap
sesame oil
almond oil
lavender oil
jasmine oil
sweet orange oil
sage
flame
shell
stone
bone
leaf
blossom
bud
bulb
dried up old husk of something unrecognizable
bit of bright green moss
flame-shaped hunk of moss
spanish moss
staghorn fern
mother’s fern
philodendron
orchid
amarylis
narcissus
ivy
maidenhair fern
spider
hairball
dried up old cherry tomato that rolled under the sideboard
basil
potato
celery
tart green granny smith apple
fat thumbprint cherry tomato
double-fisted turnip
wilting beet greens
fresh crisp spinach that jason picked on tuesday
pumpkin
ice
oven
door
window
window
window
window
sky framed by window
redwood framed by window
mountain framed by window
dawn in the bedroom
sunrise in the windows of the houses on the hill
sunset in the kittycorner kitchen windows
sunset over the mountain from the bay studio window
the full moon setting behind the tower on the mountain
james waking me to see it
james on the back porch photographing it in the middle of the night
james
his bathrobe
his white shirt
long black hairs in the bathtub in the bed in my clothes
once
on a train to sacramento while he was on a plane to hawaii
each of on our way to a wedding
i found a piece of his hair
on my favorite black bloomers
and i tied it around my wrist
and wore it there
all weekend
it scuffed the tiny hairs of my wrist and whispered
james
james
james
james
leopold the fat tabby maine coon yowler lover belly-hanging snuggler
oceana the tiny kernel in the bright halo of fluff, sharpest softest
and me
green jadeite mug from grandma
round olivewood tea scoop from sara
great-grandma’s shearling hat
grandma’s doilies
james’ grandmother’s quilt
great-grandma’s china
the antique haircatcher that sat on mom’s dresser when i was small
mom’s big twig basket that a carload of deadheads drove for me from new work to california ten years ago when i couldn’t fit it in the moving box
and they delivered it
light-colored basket i found on the street
card catalog from the old main library
medicine cabinet i found on the street
sideboard that came with the house
fork
knife
mirror
blanket
pillow
bed
and sleeping softly
james
james
he who is lost, and seeks to cause pain to match his own
he who is lost, and drowning
he who is lost and screaming
he who is lost.
the baby who was wanted, and did not stay
the baby who was asked to go
the baby who came, and stayed.
he who loves me
mother
he who loves mother
sister
brother
daddy
he who is lost.
we who are lost.
we who are lost, and seeking
we who are lost and found
we who are found
we who are home, home, home: forever home.
she who struggled, and could not stay.
her mother, who wears her white hands.
her father, who weeps.
the young mother lion who found her.
all of us who lost her, and have her.
the man who she pushed away.
and who she pulled close.
me.
you.
my mother.
my grandmother.
my great grandmother, who called me by another name, and did not know me
my great grandmother who i remember only in her bed
the grandfather who let me ride in the prow of his boat and enjoy the sun.
the grandfather who i cannot recall having looked at me.
the men who move about, quietly, making things ok.
the redwood, oh the redwood, the redwood in the yard behind the house
datura
fern
flowering maple
grewia
fuschia
baby’s tears
hydrangea
hellebore
ivy
vinca
bamboo
olive
mount sutro
sutro tower
the sunset, the sunrise, the bleak hazy sky of thanksgiving morning
you, asleep, forever nestled between your shoulderblades.
you, awake, my twin star.
you, awake and near
you, awake and far
beloved
james.
in my grief, those who held me
who fed me
who sent the car to fetch me
who called to tell me she was gone
who found her
who sorted her things
who told the stories of her life
who told the stories of her death
she who told me exactly what i needed to hear
she who listened
she who told me what i did not want to hear,
my fury,
and the grace that follows
she who took me to the beach, and walked with me there.
he who said nothing, only laid his hands on me.
he who said nothing, and did not ask to touch me.
the sky, who took me to her.
her cold dead hand. her cold dead hand. her cold dead hand.
india.
the wind.
india.
the wind.
she who is gone, and who lives forever.
the rose i lifted from her grave
the song i sent with her into it
the day i met her
the day she died
the screaming
the water
the wind
time; the illusion
love, the illusion
the truth of forever
the truth of union
the truth of now
now
now
now
and always, darling, you
and me.
