A Passion for Ripples

My friend Jennifer, of Ripplespeak, has so many gifts that I hardly know what to say here. Her words always touch the heart and they are nothing short of poetry. She is a gardener, a poet, and an artist. I just know that you are going to love her as much as I do.

When Relyn asked me if I’d like to write a bit about my passions,
I couldn’t stop grinning over the idea of plucking a bouquet from my heart’s garden
to lovingly hand this beautiful woman whose own heart blooms so profusely!

Altogether lovely, hers inspires and delights me.


Within minutes my giddy little fist clutched
an already overflowing bouquet of wildly delicious diversity

and I hadn’t even scratched the surface of blossoms I hoped to include.
Oh, this wouldn’t do.

And so I set the happy hodgepodge in a mason jar
and let the garden wander through me for a while.
Stirring. Nudging. Sorting through clutter and removing debris.
I was feeling this deeply and leaned into the process.

There were unexpected tears as my soil was raked and turned.

I'm a gardener, it's how I see the world.
I love the beauty of living, growing things.
My tree-hugging heart nearly bursts with joy when a seed gets to live out its muchness!
I earn my living coaxing the fullness out of seeds and spaces.
The time on my knees and in trees seems to stir a deep hunger

for the creative Love that designed it all….cherishes it all.
And I've fallen in love with this Love.


My dearest passion is to nourish, tend and encourage
what we humans seem often to value the least
……..the tender hearts formed to hold and express the very breath of Love,
~to coax the broken, shredded, silenced places into healing light,
finding the beauty and singing it strong.
~to see heavy hearts come untangled, unfettered and wide open
to receive the fierce tenderness that is unabashedly FOR them.

Sometimes when I hear the wind whisper "don't lose heart"
I remember when I lost mine.
Swallowed by despair, my heart shut down and hid,
my true voice buried under tons of shame.
My need was simply this: to feel the presence
of the accepting, affirming, approving, encouraging Love of One
who knew me in all my parts and cherished me dearly.
As the song goes, I needed a fearless love.
Waking up to it, my sleepy spirit is beginning to absorb it and thrive.


And so I give myself to words and images,
pens and paints
my hands playful translating the messages I sense tucked into every nook and cranny
of this gorgeous planet,
as if the universe is passing me a note in class.
I reach for it, treasuring it like a message tugged from a bottle at sea,
beaming over the beauty that spills from such a beautiful heart as this.
Passing the note is what lights me up.
My passion is for the wonder and mystery of the ripples as they speak.