Two Poems from “Words the Dirt Meant to Share”

Many of you know my first mini collection of poetry was published by Desert Willow Press in November of 2018. It was written during the year I lived on Saba, in the Dutch Caribbean, with my husband and three kids, while he attended medical school, and I worked part time as a music coach/therapist with a supplemental education program at the local school, called EC2. Poetry has been my spiritual lifeline for years, but it wasn’t until recently that I began to share my work publicly.

“Words the Dirt Meant to Share” contains 20 poems, little snapshots of what my life was like living on a rugged island with a population of less than 2,000, caring for three kids under the age of 3 in large part on my own, weathering the eye of the strongest Atlantic hurricane in recorded history (Irma, followed by Maria a bit south of us), weathering relational storms and deep loss. But they are also snapshots of unexpected friendship, of recovering love, of beautiful adventures, and peaceful afternoons laying in my hammock staring at the azure waters of the Caribbean framed by ripe mangos and coconut trees. I experienced a deep evolution and sifting of the soul, and came out on the other side with the knowledge that the very life that would break you, is the very life that can save you. It is in this tension that Jesus makes a way that is secure and even beautiful. It is in this place of exposing the darkness to the light of love and letting it take root, that transformation and peace can come.


From a Mango’s Perspective

Clouds strung out 

like picked cotton floating

at once fixed and free

through the sky.

The sunlit veins 

of the leaves 

patterned wet

on the limbs, 

bright and green, 

symphony of whispered dreams  

tiny highways of hope

and pain.




My eyes can only 

see what I see.

You see, my world

is trapped by jelly

white and brown

with flecks of green

too quiet to make

a scene.

My legs can only 

stand where I am,

beneath the cradled

roots of man.

A brush too thick,

and limb too slim

I find my feet,

in the shadow

of the wind.


Wanna read more? Get your copy today at Desert Willow Press

*photo credit @Wesley Folsom photography