Most every work day for more than 11 years, Dena wrote a love note, poem or other thought, on a napkin - and tucked it in Marshal's lunch - a ritual of the heart. At the beginning of 2009, Marshal started typing them up. It became our practice to share the Daily Napkin with you, OUR ritual of the heart. Then, in October 2015, Marshal retired, so the whole dynamic changed. Dena took several months to re-evaluate and decide what she was going to do. Since she is also simplifying, she is in the process of incorporating all 8 (including this one) websites into one. With that in mind, the poetry of the napkin is now joined with her art and/or photography images. May you enjoy them. May they feed your spirit.

Thursday, April 14, 2016

Congregation


Congregation of golden finches
perched in treetops

Singing full throated praises
to all that is Life

Individually, yet together
no special ritual needed

- Marshal Mckitrick

Tuesday, April 5, 2016

Garden Lady



Early Spring morning
Sunlight and fresh air
wafting through open window

Someone walking 
through the leaves
of last Fall

There stands Garden Lady
with two fists full
of bundled brown

Empowered joy
shining on her face
Barefoot on the Earth
and grounded

Hail, Spring!


–Marshal McKitrick

Thursday, March 24, 2016

No Questions

Two black butterflies
flitting about the treetops
Early Spring blue sky

Standing in the sun
Grateful to be alive
No questions needed

In the moment
Nothing else is important
Just breathing and experiencing

Thank you, Creator...

Marshal McKitrick

Tuesday, March 22, 2016

Loquacious Child


Even in the most complicated
situations
where multiple considerations
intertwine into complexities
yet undetermined
whether beauteous or mundane

every present still
the loquacious child
babbling on incessantly
making sense of all
non-sensicalities
speaking only as a means of safe
protection from the dangerous 
silence puffered up

lurkers tip-toe like prancing 
rhinos or clogging clowns
who cares the well place metaphor
when gusts the saddened face
when bottoms fall out like anchors
from in that unsafe place
tell me, did I land on sacred ground?

And so, and so my cranium grates
in grateful pleasant
saturated with sweetness
and a slight taste of bitter
yet and still but not so much
in all that destiny

Sunday, March 20, 2016

Wisdom Waken


A crack in the world
letting the light arrive
awakening mystery
amidst normal day to day
shadow felled in one swoop
one breaking open
on dawning

tell me more with lively
let the wisdom waken
colors dancing on the tip
awareness ogled sweetly
glowering harrumphs
glowingly once more

on the path to never said it
in the age of mellowness
there the hints of other 
profiles rise to firmament
through mud's disguise