Monday, October 03, 2016


Breathless- Teri H Hoover  (prompt breath of seasons wheel turning)

Lift your eyes if you dare.
Just one glance brings you to your knees.
Fierce, in a sheer beauty that claims your soul.
She whispers, "do not be afraid."
Last year when I was young, I was not afraid.
I now know what lives behind that beauty.
Like a breath
I am drawn
Into the arms of the endless autumn sky.

Sunday, October 02, 2016

From the Website of Mishkan Shalom

This week, our daily practice will focus on the practice of teshuvah: listening to the calls of the tradition and the calls of our heart. During the time between Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur, it is traditional to say Psalm 130 each morning and let the words of the psalm guide and inspire our teshuvah—our turning toward love and forgiveness.

Psalm 130
A song of ascents:
From the depths I call out to the One,
Please listen to my voice,
Please be attentive to my calls for grace.
Let us stand even in the face all our misdeeds
For with the You, Source of All, is forgiveness.
We are in awe.
I place my hope in the unfolding,
My entire being hopes
I wait with openness and hope for the Divine presence.
My soul yearns for the One
Among those who yearn for the dawn.
Let us wait and hope for the One,
For with the One is great love and redemption.
The One will free us of all our wrongdoings.
Let us look toward all that will be with hope.

I find the Jewish tradition full of insights for me. Maybe it is just the comfort I find in a religion that I was not brought up in.

Monday, September 26, 2016

Breathe by Teri H Hoover©

Between the laughter of a child greeting me with her smile,
And the sheer gale force of frustrations emanating through the phone.
The contrast of life comes back in full relief.
And my childhood remembers
the free fall of another,
loosing their bearings. 


The sheering and scraping.
The scrambling and straining.
The lashing and crashing.
Livid imbalance raging.
Like old hooks grasping to
Lay claim to the lining of my brain.

I smile at my grand daughter. 
Putting on the bike helmet she offers. 
At her request I latch up first her helmet then mine.
Irony is so good.

Finally, oh how many times... ?
Finally now, my heart does not break.
The space of my heart is finally, (at this particular moment) large enough-
to carry the disparity of this life.
As wide as the ocean, my heart.
Yes, the ocean, thank God for the ocean!
I claim you. Yes, the ocean it is. A large body of water, you are big enough to hold all the woes of the world. Thank you. Your space heals me, even though you are far away. 

Still the helmet, still her little hand in mine.
Sweet child, please know you are loved amidst this wonderful and terrible world.

Words. Diminish ... I cannot help. That is sad.
But I am still 

Saturday, September 17, 2016

Privilege by Teri Hoover ©

Shirts and skirts galore,
comfy clothes to wear.

Twenty pairs of shoes
and a warm bed to share.

Eight kinds of nail polish
whose use is kind of rare.

Cupboards full dishes
we fill with food to share.

Fullness found in none of these.
We still have room to spare.

Each heart that finds a moment just to settle in.
Each one that finds a place to sit, in order to begin.

Move from privilege to blessing and go beyond the din.
Bring world relief and shed this itchy skin.

Friday, September 16, 2016

September 16, 2016
An Ocean Full of Love at the Lake by Teri H Hoover ©
For Dan, Lisa and Cassandra 

Returning home, the light dwindles.
The last hour darkness attempts its overtake.
My smile is welcoming as the full moon appears.
Familiar streets seem new.
The car quietly settles in the drive.
My dog jumps from her seat, and the jangle of her collar is consumed by the song of crickets. Partial unpacking, with hellos and greetings. There is cold watermelon, a long hot shower, and silent sitting.
Between here and there,
time and distance...
between me and them,
time and distance...
Today is overcast and as calm as my heart.
Thoughtful and still. Searching my memory for drift wood and stones. Pouring over the treasures of the lake. Recollections of a walk along the shore, shared with souls realizing this walk as precious. Each breath of sun filled September air, a blessing. The waves of Lake Erie gentle yet urgent. We sit unknowingly creating judgement, wringing every drop of beauty into our hearts. We collect small stones as if we will collect a million more.
We collect small stones, tangible connections to this world. Tangible connections with those we love.
In the evening he lights a fire to the sky. Limitless stretching, the blending of earth, wind and fire. Human laughter mimics the warmth of the fire and the lapping of the waves.
Silence will surely follow, but only for awhile. The winter will come. But we create eternal summer.
I send peace, I send love, I send strength.

Monday, August 22, 2016


Cyprus by Teri H Hoover© 
for the prompt "over might right shoulder" (A photo of my family.)

I have hidden in your brokenness and reveled in your love.
My family stands upon your rocks, the Mediterranean at our feet, our smiles as warm as sunshine.
Children of Aphrodite on a divided island.

Wednesday, August 03, 2016

 August 2, 2016
Small Stone- Awake in August

Computer hums. Crickets comment. Spanish guitar low and sweet. The dog snores on.
 August 1, 2016
Small Stone- Awake in August

Yesterday's pink gladiolus curl and cling to the side of a coffee cup, dying slowly.

Thursday, July 07, 2016

Ripples in the Parallels

Ripples in the Parallels by Teri H Hoover-  July 7, 2016

I howl and moan.
At no one in particular.
There is a need to scream and flail, until exhausted.
Then I wander without a map, back into reality.
There is no underdog,
only the dark horse and she slips into the crowd again.
And no one notices. 

Prompt Howl at the Dark Horse Teri H Hoover©

Wednesday, February 03, 2016

A Curve Will Bring You Home

A Curve Will Bring You Home
02-03-2016 by Teri H Hoover©
For Sunday Whirl #236 

The rose will fall to the rill.
And the hand will find its contour.
There above the water,
small bare feet stand upon a benevolent arc.  

Sturdy and resilient, the bridge drinks in the song filled air.
Gently goes the fall line in joyous constraint.
Without flair or flourish, accepting each step.

Marooned snugly against a soft eddy of mud and leaves,
the watercourse enfolds the rose.
The earth turns imperceptibly.
Deliberately following oh so carefully.
How to spare each soul? 
A tight shadow displaced among the reflections
will drink in the laughter and join the rose.
There is no sign of loss or peril,
no spell to undo.
The world crosses over without condemnation. 

 The words:

Rose, following, line, fall, flair,  sign, tight,236 spell, spare, drink, bridge, right