What the Forest Has to Say to Me

once again,
to the singing creek
with paper and pen
my breath
rises and falls
more steadily
as i take my seat,

listening,
listening

i become very still
and notice only
the movement around me
my eye is drawn
to leaf,
to bird,
to web,
to moth,
to bee

listening, listening

i let my vision
lose focus, go soft around
the edges
as i listen for what i hear

the creek,
water over stone
dripping, flowing, smoothing
soothing me
a bee,
circling

my dog's tags,
somewhere nearby
in the distance
as he no-doubtedly leaps, exploring
still within reach

now raven's calling, deep
and throaty
and i think
about the naming of things

unexpectedly
my voice tumbles out of me
and i feel
the resonance in my chest
and hear the
echo back from the trees

i sing to the forest, again
uninhibitedly
my heart cracking
open in my chest
my breath
settling deeper
into my
belly

sing your breath,
when you breathe,
the
water whispers to me

feeling.

listening, listening

my body rocks,
hips rolling
side to side
opening, releasing, I
breathe into them
imagining the vast space
of possibility-

release.

listening, listening

heart thumps.
that cracked open place, oh yes
i move
there
with my breath
i let the tears come,
and they come
so quickly-
right below the surface,
waiting
i give them over to
the creek, who willingly
recieves me.
she
seems to say,
give them here, Child,
again and again,
as many times as need be

i imagine my tears
flowing
down the creek
growing to the stream
joining with the river
flowing out to the sea

that vast and wild
Ocean Mother, She,
who my tears taste of
She,
who responds to the moon, as i
gently cycling,
re-cycling
She who knows the ebb, the flow
of tides
her wild, crashing, joyous
waves,
that move
like my pain-
i feel them wash over me,
and away
wash over me, and away~

i open my eyes
and notice the rain

i stand up, abruptly
moving to leave-
and the hem of my
paiyaso pants
catches a nail and i land, Thump!
on my butt again
outright and unexpected
down again
as quickly as i had risen up
i think,
i guess not!

my laughter shakes the trees

i lay back
on the two-plank bridge
to see what else
the forest has to say to me

i look up to the sky,
and watch the rain drops fall to earth
fresh water mixes
with salt
and i let the rain cleanse the sorrow from my face
washing this releasing~
cleansing,
healing

o! let the day begin anew again,

listening,
listening.

Progress

couple of weeks ago i
went for a hike
down
by the singing creek
and saw a pollywog,
who reminded me that-

transformation
is an awkward thing

back again, today
by that sweet, cleansing
water
and there, again
my friend-
four-legged this time
he swam by
still at full-tail throttle-
but closer,
one step
closer,
to his
unknowable,
unknown
form

Lost and Found

I stop
and take stock
of this re-clamation scene

I am re-membering
my Life,
piece by piece

I am peeling back
layers
of years
of skins
of lifetimes of hiding
protections
long past needed,
silences, melting

invisibility
only binds you

and it is only in my re-vealing
that i can discover
how
Big
I Am

and so
I will greet my Life grinning-
humbly,
gratefully,
knowing

that whatever comes
is Teacher.

big guns and little dresses

churning
alone, here
at the country coffee shop
so far outta town, that everybody's local
except, maybe, for me
never local, never known, never home

i am waltzing
down corridors of memory-
kicking up dust-piles of days
forgotten,
peering into corners
questioning cracks and crevices,
cause some crazy-coyote-counselor lady
told me
to start digging

turning away
from shadows, from self
has kept my red-shoes tapping
has kept time to rhythms of pain and patterning
pushing away
all that is too pitiful
too poor and lonely
too vulnerable
to bare
to bear
in the glaring light of day

so, today
hand me a shovel,
a trowel,
high boots and pen,
and let the
digging dance
begin..

unedited.

a little bleary eyed this morning
but at least
a little less than the rest
waking from dreaming
that my ex-lover has died
bleary eyed
i move forward through the personal fog of morning
sifting through dreams and visions, memories that sometimes grow vivid
others that threaten to completely fade away
who am i, today?
emotions flood shallow laguna plains
marshy morning
i note the preferred posture of percieved safety
hunched in on myself and crunchy
just below the semi-permeable surface
the soft and fleshy layers of vulnerability
i'm between
the softest and the hardest parts of me
so let me be easy
today
gentle with myself and others
breathe
i sit on my porch and think that everything is okay-
or nothing is,
which thought would i like to live by today?
the light of possibility unfolding
or the dark depths of a cave where i've been hiding
on too many sunny days,
too many sunny days

At the end,

there is always a beginning.

as i sit, here
at the end of the world
in a place familiar and no longer mine,
i wonder
i ponder
the rhythms, the patterns that have brought me
thus far

i've been shedding skins
again
and this new me is also strange, and
somehow familiar

the moon's belly is full and hangs low in the sky
pregnant yet, with so much possibility
who am i?
alone, this night,
alone
as we all are, really

intentions with friends this morning, at sunrise
i spoke of roots intertwined
of deep connection,
of support and nourishment

sometimes
i can lose myself, so easily
in the day to day, ordinariness of things
or in the constant flux and flow and changing,
in the sorrow, the stuck places
or outside of myself, forgetting
that source is a wellspring
that overflows in my soul
and that my roots come with me, wherever i go
that my wings are not fragile things
and have known a heavier load,
than this

and this, is what?
is bliss
is hard
is changing
is soft
and unfolding
is unknown and scary,
is life giving death giving life.

Be Gentle...

i sit,
and watch the sunlight dance along
the strands of web
linking leaf and leaf
and plant to plant
a garden of shimmering threads
i hear the blackbirds
with their shrill voices
and let the whisper of breeze wash over me
let the sun's warmth in
through my skin
past every pore and all the broken places

what if,
in this unravel-moment,
you chose to do something different?
right-along-beside the old familiar pattern?
what if you chose,
to remember?

the strands of light that connect you,
the web of love that supports you,
the earth that holds you up?

Navajo song, via Joseph Cambell

"Oh, beauty before me, beauty behind me, beauty to the right of me, beauty to the left of me, beauty above me, beauty below me, I’m on the pollen path."

On Letting Go...

she nursed Honey
from my fingertips
i felt her feet
vibrating and vibrant
as she moved across my hand
stately, with dignity
and grace~
that slow stroll reserved
for royalty

i am a Child
in wonder at Life, so small
at a Mother of so much,
my eyes are wide, my heart is creaking open-
as i feed my Queen,
who's made an unheard of
appearance
this evening

just this moment, this
is more than i could have asked for
in the car as i drove, grieving
relinquishing my hold on
my resistence to letting go
my chest is shaking as
i am breathing, 
a deep trembling,
a crumbling, 
receeding.

inhale, exhale
this is Life, this is Death
here, in your hands, moving
surrender to the Mystery,
and turn your Heart towards that
which is Living,
allow yourself
the honey,
the Beauty,
the flame,
the sting.

how could i

forget to remember?

as hummingbird jewels
dart and dive
around me
this morning,
hum-strum-whirr they invite
me to dance,
to live in the moment as though it were holy
to inhabit my body
to embody the spirit within me
to create and recreate over
and over again.

perhaps my redemption lies in
daily resurrection
allowing myself to die and be reborn again
each morning,
rising from ashes of sleep and dream
to start,
to start again.

Mamuse

Garden Song

On this bright and healthy morning
I wanna sing my song
Let it be sung
And as I let it fly out into the world
Let it be known
I hear the music in all things today
The dance is on

I lay down on the ground
In the garden,
let the earth
Crawl up into my clothes
Stared up at the sky and we fell together
We really are so close
He whispers hello, hello, hello
And the dance is on

All the world is conspiring for me
The dance, the dance
Everything everywhere nourishes my growth
The dance is on
Let it be known
I can hear the music in all things
Today it's on
This one's for me

The bees are buzzing for me
The dance, the dance
Even the distant train is calling my name
The breeze is orchestrating
a complicated ballet
Between the leaves
The dance is on
This one's for me

All the world is conspiring for me
The dance, the dance
Everything everywhere nourishes my growth
The dance is on
Let it be known
I can hear the music in all things
Today it's on
This one's for me

The spiders are making rainbows
Between collard greens and the sun
There's a hummingbird calling
Up in his tree
I can hear his wings from way over hear
They beat for me
This one's for me

curious

shifting clarity
sifting experiences through the filter of mind and body
redirecting energy
hold it in close,
now,
expand exponentially-
hands open and unclasping
of all those answers so long longed after
the ball drops, the beat hits-
and bounces
with gravity
with bouancy,
so give me levity today-
a certain intentional casual-ty
give me
the freedom of air in my lungs
filling, emptying

cords touch, after so long left hanging
and i am grateful for that
in love
which transcends
the smallness of possesion and protection
and instead, gives of itself freely
with no need, no need
for reciprocity,
only receptivity.

butter and honey days

the skin snaps, bursting
and the juice from fruit, warmed
by the sun
rushes
to flood my mouth
and run down my chin,
land
sticky on my chest,
drips,
like kisses
like sweet drops of sweat
on sun-browned skin,
in orchards that hum
with
ten-thousand tiny wings

hand in hand
briefly, just
for a moment
now and
again,
skin on skin
feels good, and so
i give
in
and let
the "soft animal of my body" just love
what it loves,
and let
this blessed
sensuous
beauty
in.

The Freeing

She lowers the pail into the well
pulls up black water
a full bucket of it
sets it in the grass to
moonbathe until dawn

She has heard tell
water painted by the moon
gives you the power to change
loosens old skins and masks
tightened by days of trying

She has heard tell
water soaked in the moon's gaze
becomes the sweet nectar
of free life
free thought
liberation

Under the fits and starts of stars she waits
and when the dawn finally comes
eagerly tips the metal lip to her mouth
lets the moon dusted river
rush her body
clear her of all things caged




~dawn thompson

reminiscent

dreams of bees
humming
I wake to clean
and find a lizard
snoozing
under the couch,
I pick him up
to take him
outside and
he's slow
to leave
the warmth of
my hand.

it's foggy
here
this morning,
but the birds are singing
and the horses
are
romping.

and
I land somewhere
between
poetry and prose,
pausing for a puff
and a sip.
new rituals beginning,
new rhythms-
hit the re-set this weekend
and i feel fresh-
holding onto my center,
learning how to
rest, there
and reminding
myself to
have

some

fun.


the days of the oh-so-solemn,
ceremonials are
over-
I welcome
breath,
I welcome
pause,
I welcome connection,
I welcome
the smile that plays
on the edges of my lips,
I am That-
and now, too,
This-
just
and all
and every bit-of,
this.

well.

tell me,
what good is a candle,
without a flame?
when all spells are broken-
only the truth remains.

gargh-blargam-bluey

heave pillows
and throw sighs
i want to curl up on the couch
with someone's hand on resting
on my head
my shoulder
my thigh
i am jealous of the cat tonight
who can creep up, turn her motor on
and illicit caresses and snuggles
in a moments time
tonight
me siento sola
once again
but i know its passing
its
passing
and sometimes the road is lonely, gaw-dammit
sometimes thats
just how it goes
sometimes it doesn't matter
how much
you "know"-
you just don't fucking know.

Ausencio

how do you sit with it?

a grown man,
unable to read, to write
in his own language
let alone yours, a foreign tongue
here, in an unfriendly land
unable to look you in the eye
or speak loud enough for you to
make out his words
the first time

how do you sit with the
injustice of it?
that by place of birth
circumstance
and chance
you were given so much more than him?

how do you sit
with the suffering of soul
the loss of confidence
the absence of dignity
pride abandoned, or thought undeserved
or maybe beaten out of him

how do you sit
with it?

maybe you don't
maybe you just drive home crying
and pant and wail to the sky
pushing palms of feet and hands
into the ground
asking, begging for it to be taken

how do you sit,
with this man named Absence
whose downcast eyes
have pierced you through, unexpectedly
on a thursday afternoon

maybe you don't or
maybe you do
maybe it's unexpected thursday afternoons
that call and call and call you to
be a balm for suffering
however you can
here,
in an unfriendly land.

Such...

sweetness.

Mm.

"And forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair."

Waking Dream Warrior

I meet you in my dreams,
or,
I meet myself, really.
She, who could not for the pain of love see,
that which stood before her,
and, or
danced in the shadows behind her back.

I will meet you there fiercely, reclaiming.
I will stand before you, eyes full and blazing,
with hands open, gently, releasing.

I,
I do my own work now.
and She who meets with you in dreams,
is She that wakes with me each morning.
She who walks beside me,
and catches my hand, should I start to fall.

She is my warrior woman, standing tall and unafraid of
what she knows,
She is that virgin huntress queen, with bow and arrow drawn.
She is open-eyed and in waking, no longer waiting for
the proof of love unfelt, or of betrayal unseen.

She walks beside me, he-ya-na-hey-neh
and whispers words of strength to my feet.
She sings freedom to each step that I have walked away.
She calls to my spirit, to every last vast inch of it-
return,
return to me.

All that is mine, I re-claim.
All that is not,
She gathers in her arms and with a firm and humble nod,
places at your feet.

He-ya-na-hey-neh-oh-wey.

-re, or the promise tenses.

time
to
re-assemble
re-create
re-invent
re-evaluate
re-name
re-member
re-connect
render
re-locate.

hablare.
cantare.
disfrutare.
crecere.
imaginare.
sanare.
sonare.
vivere.

Sigh...

Conversation with a good friend, sit, relax, enjoy...
and then the ol' horoscope echos- what if it's the rainbow, and not the pot of gold?

I am sitting in the local hip coffee shop, feeling stand-outtish and foreign and full.
Maybe a little too full, in reaction to an empty growling stomach, in reaction to feeling alone.
I wonder, too, about that reaction on a bigger scale, I have been hungry, hungry, hungry for Life-
and now am feeling a little too full, an appetite that has grown voracious and a weakened ability to prioritize leaves me feeling overwhelmed.

So grateful for that conversation, for the reminder to take a breath, and ground.

So many good changes have left me feeling so much clearer than before- no drank, no smoke, no joke.  A moment of celebration, here or there, but rare.  And it feels good, feels better.  It is far too easy to cloud and hide and avoid Life, myself, my pain, my goals.

Needing to find more balance, find my boundaries and hold them well, with kindness.
Phew.  Sometimes I grow tired of that lesson, and yet it doggedly arises, again and again- as often as I need it to until I learn it, I suppose.

Should go, that list is'a calling.  Less overwhelmingly though...
Bless~

Don't Worry...

In Honor Of...

...one of the greatest men I have ever known.

A Teacher, a Friend, a Blessing to all who crossed his path.

A man who embraced his Death with as much love and grace as he embraced Life.

"Peace! Fullness of Life!"

~John Jerry Anthony Parente

Rest in Peace, John.

Now you are Everywhere...

Take It In

dark-chocolate-caramel-sea-salt tongue
and finger tips
musica brazilera
bailando por estero
y yo
sitting, staring, speechless
at these surroundings

me,
at the table, looking out on the rain
me,
here, alone, unable to escape myself
that elusive
woman in the mirror
who is
dancing again
and now
a little samba shake
all the way across the living room
she pulls herself
passionately close
and spins, dips, twirls
bouncing back-
i watch her shimmer and smile
hair, wild and curly
from the rain

i am
re-membering
again,
now
this rhythm
this pulse
this life that is so full of possibility and
probability not detracting, I
am beginning
once again
to believe

that something of more substance can be created.
that life is full and so am I.

que todo esta vivo en mi.

Stillpoint.

Be, don't seek.Sit warmly open,
lightness in your brow,
not questions.

Be ready for the quiet
when it comes,
and the creaking
of the house's bones
and the wind's music
playing the notes of the trees.

Be, don't brood.
Don't wait for Life
to announce itself
in capitals
or high garb.

Be available to its whispers,
know how to listen
when it tells its true self
and not the lies
you've dreamt up.

Be able to breathe
and let go of your breath,
let go of life as you wish it to be
and take in the simplicity
the facts-

This sky is.
This day is.
This sparrow is.

Be, don't try.
Your weariness must have
shown you something by now.
Stay seated in your soul,
remember the sun is there,
truth and time are there.

Be, don't seek.
You've already found.
You already have.
You already know.
You already are.


~Elizabeth Page Roberts

chrysalis

door ajar, letting the rain in, cleansing. 
the air is cold, but i welcome the freshness, the movement, it's chill on the little skin that's exposed.
i'm wrapped today, "moving like a pupa." :)
morning conversations of skitz-o-frenia, shamanism and spirits, emotional reactions and defenses. 
i'm surrounded by mooning women and skittish cats, still adjusting to the pit-bull size beastie that's moved in.
late morning brunching. :) 
protein and more of it!
my body is aching with this change of weather, of seasons it seems. 
but
movement is medicine
and i am doing lots of it.
feline, fluid stretching, qi gong,and shakin' it out, yo.

have some work to do that i'm avoiding.
again.
ha. 
i think that some inner dis-order needs arranging
before i can move towards that bid'ness lady who's gotta write a semi-professional letter.
phew.

gotta remember to breathe. 
it's amazing how easily and often i forget.  

no music in my life at the momentito...
my technological means are packed up in a box being stored under a bed in another town.
and so
i listen to the rain, the sound of it
on the roof, the wooden slats of the porch, the cement, the cars crashing puddles below.
i hum a little tune now and then,
and traditional chinese music trinkles in from the room across the hall.
yes. that's right. trinkling. :)
i've got the grouch's, Lakeside tune playing in my head,
mostly on repeat of,

"release-release-release-release,  release,  release,  release-"

my doodle-bug
half-crawls, half-slides off the bed, yawning.
he steps onto the carpet in front of me, bowing.
what a dawg.
i get up to give him some good puppy lovin' and i am so grateful for his presence in my life. 
no matter what worries and trials it been along the way with this guy-
they are forgotten with abandon when he snuggles in or makes me laugh so hard i cry.
damn.

ha.
i said that really loud on bart yesterday, accidentally out loud.
it kind of rang out into the conversation that was happening across from me.  i didn't look up, they definitely paused.  whoops.
it was a genuine response, after reading that in the latest issue of Street Sheet 
that there are 185 VACANT units in San Francisco's Housing Authority's buildings. 
(Who is reporting much fewer less..) 
and as the article said,
"Meanwhile, we have families in San Francisco sleeping on the floors of churches, at drop-in centers, and in their cars. Some families are forced to stay in unsafe situations as they have no place to live."

need i remind anyone of the season of weather that has just come upon us? 
rain, no matter how much it's needed or how beautiful it is,
is never welcome when you live outside.

and yes, there's bureaucracy, institutions, paperwork-
but where is the heart? the humanity?
i wonder,
with so many empty houses and so many mothers, fathers, daughters, sons, brothers and sisters outside?

the man who sold me the paper,
who gave me two issues, even though i only had 1
shared a smile with me
and generosity
i thanked him and wished him,
'Be warm, stay dry-'

just thoughts, today.  on this rainy finally-wintry day.
just feeling grateful for every little thing.

Caminante

You
witness yourself.
scarf and jacket wrapped tight
against the cold.

You.
walking down the street
you were raised on

you see
where you learned to
ride your bike
where you fell down,
and got back up
again

you see silhouettes of trees
shadow lined sidewalks
and it's nothing but
You
and the cloudy city-night sky
and the cool, wet
breeze

And your dog.
whose click-clacking
step
calls you back
to the present,
happening.

you see
the tree that once stood
there,
cut down long ago
the houses full
of ghosts
of kids you used to
play with
where are they now,
you wonder,
where did they go?

You
walk this street that
you know like
the back of your hand,
in a skin
you can finally
claim
as your own.

and for once,
You don't feel homeless,
coming home.

make beauty everywhere you go

there's a mockingbird
somewhere nearby,
singing
i'm perched and listening
on the rooftop porch,
which transformed
into a garden,
in a morning's time

hands in dirt
as the city woke up
sleepily, slowly
saturday morning style

i hear that sharp trill
unmistakable
as she ducks and weaves
through borrowed songs
now she mocks
the car alarms
mimics the men on the street
as they call
from yard to yard
from car to car

i finish up
sigh, and take a seat
to survey with pleasure
the unexpected beauty
that blossomed
with a little roof-porch tetris
and some elbow grease

smiling,
i recognize the pitch of the hummingbirds' wing
zip-zzoooooooooooooooooooooooooom~
there he is,
he pauses and dives low to
check out
this new
little patch of green.

PAY ATTENTION.

laws are being passed to prevent us from being able to grow our own food and make our own medicine.
our dependency on technology has made us pasty and weak and has left us with little common sense and no idea how to provide for ourselves.
and the deportations are on the rise....

they will sell it to you wrapped in convenience, they will tell you that it will make you SAFER.
they are not out to protect you- they are out to protect their profits and their pockets and there is no human life or suffering that will deter them.

PAY ATTENTION.

Letter from Eve Ensler

Dear Emotional Creature,

I believe in you. 

I believe in your authenticity, your uniqueness, your intensity, your wildness. 

I love the way you dye your hair purple, or hike up your short skirt, or blare your music while you lip synch every single memorized lyric.

I love your restlessness and your hunger. You possess the energy that, if unleashed, could transform, inspire and heal the world.  

Everyone seems to have a certain way they want you to be - your mother, father, teachers, religious leaders, politicians, boyfriends, fashion gurus, celebrities, girlfriends.   In reporting for my new book, I learned a very disturbing statistic; 74 percent of young women say they are under pressure to please everyone.

 

I have done a lot of thinking about what it means to please: to be the wish or will of someone other than yourself.  

To please the fashion setters, we starve ourselves.  

To please men, we push ourselves when we aren't ready. 

To please our parents we become insane overachievers.  

If you are trying to please, how to do you take responsibility for your own needs?  How do you even know what your own needs are?  The act of pleasing makes everything murky.  

WE lose track of ourselves.  

We stop uttering declaratory sentences.  

We stop directing our lives. 

We forget what we know.  

We make everything OK rather than real.

 

I have has the good fortune to travel around the world.  Everywhere I meet teenage girls and women giggling, laughing as they walk country roads or hang out on city streets.  Electric girls.   I see how their lives get hijacked, how their opinions and desires get denied and undone. 

So many of the women I have met are still struggling late into their lives to know their desires, to find their way.

  

Instead of trying to please, this is a challenge to provoke, to dare, to satisfy your own imagination and appetite.  To take responsibility for who you are, to engage.  Listen to that voice inside you that might want something different.  It's a call to your original self, to move at your own speed, to walk with your step, to wear your color.

 

When I was your age, I didn't know how to live as an emotional creature.  I felt like an alien.  I still do a lot of the time.   I am older now. I finally know the difference between pleasing and loving, obeying and respecting.  

It has taken me so many years to be OK with being different, with being this alive, this intense.  I just don't want you to have to wait that long.

 

Love, 

Eve 

push and pull

o goodness!
gladness!
oye, voy-
it seems that i don't
know my place anymore
i am seeing more clearly
those true colors showing
like the hints of color
through peeling paint
on walls
there is something
unraveling
here for me
and it seems like maybe my journey
is asking
that i make my move
once again
cause i feel like i'm
carving out causes
rallying resources
and drumming
and drumming
and bumming
and slipping
back into the lulling
rhythm
of a rhythm-less life
but
i can't sit still anymore,
my body won't let me
there's a buzzing in my belly that
makes me squirm
with impatience
an ever urging insistence,
more than, more than, more than
mere existence,
and if my hands lie
too long useless
they scream their resistance to lifelessness
in aches and pains like
fire needles in joints
they cry use us, use us,
don't miss the point!

you are divinity,
you are the skin it's housed in,
Life is sacred and profane and you
can swing from extremity to extremity
or find a middle way,
your own rhythm,
to walk to.

Steaming

i am simmering
boiling
roiling in my own juices
this morning
i wake
sleepily, sweetly, sadly
letting go slowly
doesn't hurt any less, you know
it may in fact be
the more painful
choice
but on my lonely way
back-
but i am finding pieces
of my heart along
the path,
acknowledging what must be mended
places that bleed still,
fleeting glimpses
of the kind of compassion
that might transform us both,
once again,
into something resembling
friends.

remember?
please remember,
how i've adored you-
caresses carrying love's buoyant weight,
nights of laughter and mornings steeped
in passion's wake-
don't forget.
don't forget, amor mio.

and even back
before that still
delighting in you
without possession or pause,
you did not belong to me then-
and neither do you now,
so why and when and how
is it
that this
separating
tears me into pieces,
and can be a bittersweet relief in
one breath,
and a chest-crushing weight
in the next?

we are shooting arrows across caverns
sending up flares that can't be seen-
we have lost our common ground now,
and there are oceans
in between

i'm sorry, love,
i'm sorry-
i don't have any fight left in me
and
i can't bridge these distances
alone.

(i never could.)

"Don't be so hard on yourself."

janelle turtle and zoe keating
today
as i try
to make right
and re-set patterns,
place them gently aright
like little children
learning to walk
who topple over
again and again
gently,
patiently
make quiet that voice that screams,
never! not good enough! not right!
soothing,
gently,
who would scream
at a little child,
anyway?

Growing

so many possible poems

running around inside me

half-written lines of

some epiphanous moment

not so eloquent yet

and just maybe, possibly 

profound

growing skin 

and letting people in

sound oxymoronic and yet

these seem to be the lessons

of late

how do i relate?

without merging?

without taking on that which is not mine?

all the while

trying to leave all those old and worn-out 

survival tactics

behind me...

Updates...

...soon.

Love-

neptune's garden

the morning mist reveals the spiders' homes,
around every bend another
landscape of illuminated webs-
perfect drops of dew
strung along perfect lines,
like so many little pearls of light.
i smell the water
before any other sense
tells me it's there,
i take a deep breath, and sigh
that salty smell stirs
something in me
even here, at the
brackish back-end of the bay.
the grebes dive and resurface
again and again,
catching their morning meal
feeding their children,
the sound of their call out across
the water
is hauntingly wild
for such a paved little trail.

the bay stretches out and
blends in the mist, the
grey of the sky-
there is no horizon line
only light reflecting light
and I
turn to walk back into the bushes
the wet high grass,
my silly familiar friend
stops short and pounces,
bounces
back up along the trail-
i am thankful for this ridiculous
companion of mine,
who makes my laughter ring
like a pealing of bells
in the stillness of the
morning air.
he jumps for no other reason
but joy
and plays slip n'slide games
down the gently sloping inclines,
making me shake my head,
and smile.

One of my favorites, by one of my favorites...

Wild Geese


You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

-Mary Oliver

let's move

i am drumming
up
positivity
and power
hopefully wondering
what the universe
has in store
for me
now
this shifting
this movement
that is shaking me to my core
turning over compost piles
finding rich soil there
so
fertile

i am calling
up images of self
unimagined
conjuring creativity
something more
free
a body that moves with pain
a mouth full of laughter
a soul unveiling its wings
i am bigger
than i ever
dreamed
before
there is nothing
more
powerful
than what i've found
living between my legs
between my belly and spine
it starting
to curve
to roll
to unwind
go ahead
ask me
i dare

who is this woman

remember?
the one with wind in her hair
that fire dancing in
her eyes
remember?

she's still in there
and she is clawing
her
way
out
digging down
opening up
unraveling herself
from sleepy-eyed-stony-slumber
surprising her habits
and waking her nightmares
drumming
pounding
shouting
howling
singing
dancing
floating
growling
beating
pulsing
flowing
here,
here,
here.

So, maybe

things aren't always as extreme as
i feel them to be
or as dire as
i percieve.

and, maybe
there is temperance to be found
in a nescafe sit-down round
something wet and little
and shaking
whimpers under the table
while
something old and stalking
creaks down the hallway past
closed doors
or, maybe
cracked open, an inch
for a glipmse
a glance
and, maybe
eavesdropping is almost like
the first step
to participating
in conversations you don't know how to have.
one day
you'll be brave enough
to join in,
maybe.

ROAR. ( or, Fuck 'Em. )

my anger rages
its flames clearing forests
burning up all the dying
the decaying
the lies long-standing
rooted in my own misunderstanding
of myself

my rage is quaking
trembling, shaking
crumbling buildings that have long-loomed
in
my inner landscape
beliefs of myself that have consumed
and
kept me from a clear view-

my fury cracks sidewalks
sends green shoots skywards
you,
stop right there,
don't come any closer
'cause now i have seen your
face by the firelight of my burning
your farce, your front, your failure
your longing, your yearning
and i won't let you
abuse me
and then crawl back begging

i am not a beggar
nor a destitute child
i am not the weak one
or the apologetic liar
i am roaring
i am rage
i am fury finally found
i am fierce and in your face
and i am walking the grounds
of this
my awakening

Merp.

i want to write so much! argh!
damn time restraints...
soon,
soon enough.

Anxiety

i wake
with a familiar weight
on my chest
today I am
anxious, at best
i am holding hope so tightly
that it squeeks
in small protest
i have been moving so much lately
sifting, shifting, releasing
and still
and yet
this feeling has come to visit once again.
like some stalker in the night
it must have snuck in
through the window
which i have left open,
for the sake
of moonlight,
it sits on the edge of my bed
unsettling my heart and my head
with dreams like flashes
like flashbacks
like so many faces and flurry and fear
why now? why here?
i have been gathering
my bones
and all those pieces
long scattered to the wind
calling myself home
back to that place within me
that i Know, exists
then this
this unraveling weight
that sits on my chest
and refuses undoing
this pressure
somewhere between ribcage and battlefield
between repulsion and a broken gait
LET ME BE
or please, just wait
til something passes
til my grounding is more tangible
til my personal revolution
can gain it's momentum
til the day is through
or until
i can figure out
what to do with you

PEREGRINA by Chavela

Suspended

Drifting
between possibilities
perspective shifts once again
landscapes of lives to be lived
spread out before me
like the clouds' shadows moving
slowly across the
mountains face

passing shadows,
nothing more
these are the thoughts that
entertain me
keep me company
tonight

i ponder and postulate
the weight of a single human life
i seek the fulfillment
of secret dreams
in quiet hours
a simple happiness in life
and yet
can never quite shake
the nagging sensation
maybe some unfounded realization
that i am held accountable
for my time
my days
my ever-swiftly passing moments
what i choose to give
life

For Friends

the smell of dirt
winding roads through forests and mountains
and lives
gratitude for such kindness shown
such care

closed springs
rain, sleet, snow
beware the pizza in Quincy...

laughter from the gut
from the deepest places
gurgling up and out
and spilling over the three of us
on this night of many misadventures

campfire finally found
we sit
sleep outside
on the ground
under the star-shine
the river lulling us to sleep
and singing us from dreams
in the cold fresh
morning

not quite over yet
pack it up
and then...
dead battery.
the engine sputters
and we all exchange looks
and laugh
get the car jumped
pile back in
and we're on the road again

Wow.

It doesn’t interest me
what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for
and if you dare to dream
of meeting your heart’s longing.
It doesn’t interest me
how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk
looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me
what planets are squaring your moon.
I want to know if you have touched
the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.
I want to know
if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you
to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us
to be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn’t interest me
if the story you are telling me is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another to be true to yourself.
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes.”

It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live
or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me
who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire with me
and not shrink back.
It doesn’t interest me
where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.


~Oriah Mountain Dreamer~

Thich Nhat Hanh

The Desitute Child


Precious gems are everywhere in the cosmos
and inside every one of us.

I want to offer a handful to you, my dear friend.
Yes, this morning, I want to offer a handful to you,
a handful of diamonds that glow from morning to evening.
Each minute of our daily life is a diamond that contains sky and earth,
sunshine and river.

We only need to breathe gently for the miracle to be revealed:
Birds singing, flowers blooming.

Here is the blue sky, here is the white cloud floating,
your lovely look, your beautiful smile.
All these are contained in one jewel.

You who are the richest person on Earth
and behave like a destitute daughter,
please come back to your heritage.

Let us offer each other happiness and learn to
dwell in the present moment.
Let us cherish life in our two arms
and let go of our forgetfulness and despair.

Hooray!

Yukito!!!

struggle 'til surrender

Bueno.

A day of gardening and landscaping, of mud-covered feet, safety meetings, hummingbirds and bees, birthday planning, and laughter.
Of puppy play-time, singing, sunning, and finishing a good book.
Productive. Restful. Good.
Tomorrow? More plant-lovin' and perhaps some solitude, maybe a coffee-catch up with an old friend.

Love~

You're Not the Right Alice..

You've lost your muchness, he said.

My muchness?

Yes, your muchness, in there, pointing to a place between her heart and her gut.

Excited.

Had a beautiful day yesterday.
Took a late nap and then got up and finished the novelita I've been reading. Perfect. Simple and perfect. I loved it. A story about a fierce little woman who follows her heart and finds her life in unexpected places. I absolutely fell in love with her over the course of the book. Would that I was so witty....! :)

Today I am moving slowly but deliberately....slow and steady, slow and steady. New mantra, perhaps?

I am my own.

I am no one's cornerstone.
I am my own.

Argh.

The delights of home quickly bring the weight of "responsibility." Then the upkeep begins to overwhelm- always more to do, always. With seemingly less and less time and energy with which to do it. This is the struggle. Mine, anyway.

For example, Thursday evening, Alex and I sat at the kitchen table, shootin' the shit, cracking each other up- both exhausted from a hard day's work....only Alex spent the day planting in our garden and I spent the day making coffee and food for Snooty-McSnootersons for $7/hour. What?!

Awesome. That's what I came here to do...


How do I create a life that is filled with the things that are important to me? How do I sustain that life? What to do when that which I "must" do (to sustain the lifestyle I have chosen) begins to errode, diminish, and take precedence over the very things I supposedly came here to do.


I love my house. I love my bathtub. I LOVE my plantitas and the garden that is beginning to take form.
I DON'T love coming home from work with little time and even less energy for anything else in my life.



Sometimes I feel guilty and judge myself to no end- words of people, of the culture echoing in my head...."That's what you gotta do." "Suck it up." On and on and on....

But what if I'm not happy? The work that is available to me here is heavy labor and/or long hours of meaningless, mindless work that drains me energetically, even more so than it does physically. I don't want to give my time and energy to that. I don't. I don't want to work in food service anymore--that was part of the point in coming here for me- learn skills to carry with me so that I might not have to do that.

Pictures from Mom's Visit....

My Mama came to visit me for my happy birthday....it was pretty sweet. :)

This is the door to our studio/workspace.....my Mom labled this picture "Squirrel Entrance"....because of the damned little varmint who has decided to move in. ugh.

anyone with a foolproof mode of removal??

or even a suggestion??

That's Bronson and Alex.....the loves of my Life! Also, roomies. So precious. :)

I love this one! :)

So, Mom and I go to this fancy-schmancy little boutique. The woman working there comments on my pants and points to some on the rack.... "You might like this pair, they're very similar to the ones you have on...."

Right. For a mere $75....

...I almost told her, mine were from the Free Box!! :)

Conversation

"My world is crashing down."

"Good. Now you can rebuild it."

It's like

you've become that spot
the one right in the middle of my right-eye
lens
the one that won't rub off, just smears and
shades my view even more
i can't see through you some
days
the smoke of your childhood wreckage
still so thick
and smoldering

the simplicity of beauty
is lost on me
as i wander through
your haze
dazed and wondering
how to get back to that place where i started
how to get you to walk out the door
or close it

or something.

anything.

everything is changing,
with or without our knowing it,
everything.

8 Minutes Left....

....on the computer at the library, which is my only access right now. So, quickly! :)

My life here in Taos is unfolding into something beautiful right now, I am so grateful.

I found a house with two dear ones, which not only is cute and crumbly in that Taoseno kind of way, but has every little ridiculous detail that I have drooled over, joked about, and longed for......fireplace, wood stove, sun room, bright kitchen with mexican-style tiling, yard with fruit trees and room to grow! Um, did I mention....a stand alone CLAWFOOT BATHTUB??
yes, oh yes.
I have found heaven- it is in my bathroom. with herbs, incense, oils, and silence and solitude and steaming hot water. unbelievable.

My days are finding rhythm, slowly but surely- with work and yoga and hiking and hotsprings, music and new friends and taking care of myself.

More to come, sooner than later I hope. :) To all those I love who read here, I am missing you all so very much, and would (more than) LOVE to hear from you!

Done Gone.

Hekate at the Crossroads

life's language
is full of metaphor and mystery
and if i listen closely enough to hear
life's delight in itself
can bring me to tears
on such a cold blue moon night as this

I circle spirals of protection
around myself
my sleeping brother
and all those that we love
it is the ending and beginning of a cycle
a crossroads,
of many sorts
what to let die-what to give life to
these are the questions that rock me
tonight

the smoke of my prayers rise
and i am
woman, luna, earth
i look up to see that i have
planted myself in line with Pleaides
and smile
at life's gentle teasing
and the way sometimes
we know things

i smile again when i hear
such worn familiar words
echo in my head
'you must learn to love
the questions themselves
as rilke said'
so i am finding joy
here
now
in this

and i will await the answers
the way a woman awaits her lover
from afar-
with a longing not without sweetness,
an anticipation tempered by patience,
a heart open and ready to recieve.

Mi Luna

Where would I be without writing? Without drawing and painting and coloring? Where would I be without the outlet of creativity? It has saved me these last few days.

It has been the only thing to unwind and unravel me enough for me to breathe free of a chest tight with worry.

Phee-yew!

So, so heavy. So serious. Mind on overdrive. Relajate mija! Respira! Don't forget to play!

It's been an intense and interesting time. I am practicing remembering that everything is passing and so not to attach myself to much to anything. (Riding the waves, not flailing as they crash over me.)

and I'm still smiling. and laughing.
full on belly laughs even. :)

Love to All-
Goodnight.

Shine Through

such an interesting blend
today
of sadness and light
i woke up crying
and let go
crying into the pillow
and into the faithful arms
of a friend
releasing whatever it was
that needed
to be let go of
i am trying to identify
and identify with
my pain less
letting the tightness
in my chest
unwind
and so i'll cry nameless tears
from an anonymous source
and just let it out
today
i am restless
in this
the new light that has
revealed itself
i wonder
will stillness ever satisfy?
or will it unravel like all the rest
of those times
when i've tried
to build a life in just one place
don't get me wrong
there were smiles
waiting around corners
and delight in surprising and
unlikely conversations
getting out of my head
scrubbing dishes and wiping counters
with gratitude
for those
who believe in our own goodness
and dare to try to make a difference.

Blues and Poker at 3am.

to be here, now.
to say yes.
to allow and accept my own happiness
to delight in it without guilt
even for a moment,
is such sweetness for my soul.

Today My Heart is Bursting

How can Life be so incredibly beautiful?
How can Providence be so true?

I am so grateful for these
unfolding days
such stunning sweetness
envelops me
all around, all the time
to find family
community
real-live heart work to
pour myself into
artists and musicians
creative activism
active creativity

Not more than a few dollars to my name
and I am the happiest, perhaps
that I have ever been.

God Bless the Child

so cold
and so much warmth.
cloudy dreams of
feeling torn and shedding skins
hair cuts
fresh starts and new beginings
taking chances
and learning how to
Trust
more, truly, and
again

the doors that i have shut behind me
no longer haunt me
instead i smile at them fondly
and step out into a new day
a new life
one that is raggedy and handmade,
perfect and beautiful
as sparkling as the snow that
covers everything

All right.

Earlier this afternoon, in the midst of losing my worried mind, I sat down with my notebook and poured out 5 pages. phew.
So now, I find myself here with quieter thoughts.

I am stable and transient.
I am feeling more and more at peace.
I am growing in generosity and abundance is finding me.
I kick back with my growing pains these days,
sit and watch and listen
toca la medicina and watch as doors open
as my heart unwinds herself
from her frenzy
and remembers
that all, cada uno, and every
little thing
is gonna
be alright.

"...Plus I have this whole new family

and I'm in love with each of them,
And I'm on this list called lucky
whenever I'm in reach of them..."

Life.

Days full of music and talking and healing and laughing 'til tears come. Nights full of good food, celebration, home-made meade, and more music.
Snow covered ground, cold fingers, afternoon coffee with cacao and almond milk, free-flowin' prophet friend of mine showing us his latest, painting parties, impromptu snowball fights, yoga and stretching and breathing, new songs to play and more to write....

Tejon

every day I drive past your street and blow you a kiss
hoping that somehow
through space and time
it might find your lips
or your cheek
or that soft place on your neck

your spirit has hovered
closely
these last few days
i listen to your mixes
and feel silly
laugh and remember and burn a little
that sometimes searing longing
in my chest
that asks to see, to touch, to taste, to know
to be close enough for tea
or whiskey
or a moto ride
to be more available
maybe just more around
in general
I,
miss you.

even more than I miss
my favorite beanie in the whole world.
and that's a lot.

New Tires

signifying a
new time
a new kind of trip
travel to a destination that i know well
and that knows me
new roads
to be discovered
unpaved and a little rocky
but my shit
is all-terrain baby.

that's right.

uncharted territory
doesn't scare me
that's where i find myself to be
most of the time
anyway

Sunny

(Big Fat Grin.)

beeautiful.



Love~

I want

to dig up all the dark places
and plant seeds of light.

fall

i come to the page empty handed, again
but i know now
that i am born from fire,
to be burned to ash to be born again
so i don't worry about it
so much
on this quiet afternoon

porch-sitting is one of my favorite things to do.

it has been an interesting autumn
so far
full of unexpected turnings
of collecting all the garbage
and composting
what's worth keeping,
of further lessons in resiliency
and levity
and buoyancy

So Close and Yet So Far Away

Feeling at home today, it's been a long time and it feels so good. There are good people, community kitchen, attic lofts, chickens, tree houses, and bees.

and I am writing. Writing and writing and writing. Hooray. :)

Reading Women again, how is it always so relevant?

At the Crossroads

Hekate, Crone Mother
We seek your great wisdom.
Planet on the edge
Chaos in our lives
How did we get here?
How do we go forward?
The road is unclear: which way?

We are still.
We listen for the clarity of your voice.
The inmost whisper
The ancient lessons
The roaring imperative in crisis-time

to choose! act! come together! touch

Source now-
Center us, step by mindful step.
Be with us each and all.
Blessed Be.

-Bethroot Gwynn

F this Noise.

To have a road sign land so apparent in my lap and to ignore it? C'mon.

Not going to do that again EVER. Dear Life, Universe, Goddess, (insert all other names here), I will listen better and respond quicker when you speak so very clearly.

Shit.

Mejor Sola que Mal Acompanada.

Siempre me encuentro en este lugar. Luchando por....que? Para que? Es posible que hay alguien que pueda ser lo que estoy buscando? Simplemente, necesito pensar en mi. Pero tengo bastante dudas que me molestan continuamente....si soy una mujer tremenda quien quiere toda a su manera. Asi soy, o no? Aveces no puedo encontrar mis lineas. Bending or breaking??
Donde estan mis ninas? Mis lobas? Mi bravada? Es que no tengo confienza en mi propia ser...no puedo distinguir la voz entre de mi que es la mas pura, la mas verdad.

Ay, nina. Ay, ay, ay. En un momento tan segura, en otro....completamente diferente. Nadie puede entender esto...por lo mejor. Si lo entiendes y tengas idea, dimelo. (O ya me has dicho?)

Buenas noches.

Ooh, It's been a long, long time...

But here I am.

And where exactly is here? you might ask... Kansas City, MO. And loving Life. It's crazy how things can change so quickly. I went from stressed, feeling stuck, and road weary to centered and grounded and excited again. All thanks to four crazy-beautiful Goddesses!

More to come, my friends, more to come....

Love~

Blossoming Spirit

-Mara Friedman

this longing to return home, for union,
to be once more whole
this longing for that which is unseen,
yet known in my soul
this longing for that which is silent,
yet heard in my heart
this longing is my teacher, my Friend,
we are never apart

Relation

learning how to bend

without breaking

The Most Deserving Heart I've Ever Met

i've done it again

put my foot

where my mouth is

obstructing the words that

i wish

i could pour out all over you-

like honey

like balm

like all the tenderness and adoration

that ever existed

my hands are limp and made

useless in my hesitation

i wish

they could smooth that wrinkle

the one you don't even realize

you're wearing

that they could help bear the weight

of the burden you carry

to care so much

for everyone

Crown of Thorns

as a little girl I was taught
about birds of the air
lilies dressed in finery
about rust, moths, and thieves
just a wide-eyed child
learning of peasant kings
that people are important
not things

they told me,
Careful where your Treasure lies,
for their your Heart will reside
Careful where your Treasure lies,
for there your Heart will reside


now I see kids my age
buying things
digging their own graves
the Road they walk is well-worn and paved
they'll end up owing more
than they can pay

don't get me wrong we all have our role
my friends work hard to achieve their goals
for some it's beautiful
for some it's right
but it cools my fire and dims my Light

I met a kid out there on the Road
poor and dirty
with eyes that glowed

the son of a carpenter

he'd left behind their plans

pulled onward

by an unseen hand
he owned nothing more
than the clothes he wore
and a crown of thorns

he told me,
Careful where your Treasure lies,
for there your Heart will reside
Careful where your Treasure lies,
for there your Heart will reside

as a little girl I was taught
about birds of the air
lilies dressed in finery
about rust, moths, and thieves
just a wide-eyed child
learning of peasant kings
that people are important
not things

now you act surprised
it seems this little girl
she's gone awry,
she's out of line
she's out of line-

now I'm grown and I know
Love is my Treasure
and the whole world is my Home
said Love is my Treasure
and the whole world is my Home

so be,
Careful where your Treasure lies,
for there your Heart will reside
Careful where your Treasure lies,
for there your Heart will reside

Kindling for the Fire

A Night of Stories and Music at Mon Cafe!

I will be sharing music and some poetry from my album, Peregrina, and my dear sister, Sarita will be reading from her book, Caminante, Bridger of Worlds.

Come out and listen, share, and enjoy!

Saturday, August 22nd

6pm-ish ~ 8pm-ish

Love and Blessings!

psst. Click on "Mon Cafe" for directions and check out Sarita's website under "Caminante, Bridger of Worlds" on the right hand side of the screen!

I have been existing in such a transient, ethereal state 

encountering magic and Providence

and grace

in such surprising and unexpected, 

ordinary places

that I almost forgot

that I live in a world where

Women are still raped.

How Things Change

I am the Wandering One

who can re-create

herself

on a daily basis

if that's

what is needed

and I wonder, does

the Phoenix

after her rebirth,

remember the ashes

from whence she came?

or back even farther still-

the pyre

that she set aflame?

because I could
forget

could put you away
as you were,
as we were

in some far back corner

of my memory

recall you fondly, or

at least recall

sometimes

if that's

what is needed

because the Truth is

that you

never loved me

the way I did you,

and that's Okay
now
it is

but after

careful examination

of all the paths

that we travelled,

all the ones I followed you down

thinking it

was what you wanted too,

I have had

Enough,

finally.

which strikes me as
almost funny

because enough
is exactly what
you could never give me,
my doing as much as your own
perhaps,
no fault, no blame,
no responsible party

just what is

just what was

and so

now

I don't know
exactly where to place you

but I'm willing to try-

to clear out some corner

for you to Be,

where I could smile
over at you

once in awhile

when I'm feeling

good

nostalgic

happy

I could remember you tenderly, or

at least remember

if that's

what is needed.

Mockingbird's Song

I am
Loba, sola
tonight.

alone with my
thoughts-
my sometimes regrets,
all those decisions
I
thought
better of.

some ranchero mariachi
is playing through
too-old speakers
and an impassioned
borracho
sings along-
almost tuneless
and yet
strangely in key
in this neighborhood
that is not quite
oakland
and not quite
san leandro
not quite free
of it's ghosts

I sit out
on this
borrowed porch
which is my own
for the next day-or-so
I sing out
into the street
serenading the shadows
as they dance
in the light
cast
by the street lamps
they keep time,
swaying with my sorrow
dancing
all my grief

tonight
my Heart is wandering
as far and deep and wide
as my thoughts

she
is out there, circling
somewhere
between
homelessness
and Light
between empty days
and too-full nights
she
is
looking
for someone to make it right
someone
to set it all down
to write out the histories of mustard seeds
and cacti
and red wine
of honey bees
and scarabs
and rainbows of light

wake up, o sleeping one
wake up from the night
peer into the morning sun
with curiousity
and
courage

spill forth
your song
call up
all
your gods
and
remember
who
you
are.

Hooting and Howling....

so many times around
this little town
until i am almost
dizzy
with familiarity

i am missing
in action
missing out on days of nights
of fun and possible adventures
i am taking a
breather
sitting on the bench
for a moment's rest
stretched out on couches
lazy and too-warm from the sun
hopefully soon
i'll be full of a new energy
that will carry me
another leg on
this crazy
Journey

but in the mean time
i am
gathering food from gardens
cooking and laughing
smoking, singing, crying
sitting around fires
sharing brief moments in the lives
of so many here
who are
so busy now,
so busy.

and i wonder, do
strange little owls
still convene
at random subway stops
and city park oases?

and have the wolves
all fled the city?

Contenta

Sometimes it is difficult to tell the stories as you're living them.
I've written some poems here, snapshots of moments that I want to remember always. More than that- I don't know if I'm yet capable.
The lessons that are unfolding themselves on this trip are life-altering and still beyond my descriptive reach.

Abundant, abundant Life. Truly.

I have been cleaning Mouna's house this week, in exchange for stay, and I am working my behind off. But it has been the most joyful experience. Cleaning meditation? Who knew? :)

So much Love to All I am far from now-

Red Thunder

i am weightless
i am free
my only Real obligation
is my Destiny
and i can hear Her
beckoning

She is the whisper
of the bee's wing
upon my cheek
She is the fertile earth
the new growth
the seedling

She rolls out like the thunder
before me
and sings to me
as i wander in the mountains
dizzy
with beauty

i have chosen to Listen to my Heart
and my support is
the boost her confidence
has
so long needed

go on, Little One
guide me-
for your feet dance to the rhythm
of celestial symphonies,
and i'm only just learning
how to
play

how humbling
that it is the Child
in me
that leads me,
in all things-

to the
heart
of the Divine.

Peace and Patience and New Life.

having taken myself out of the role
of victim
I have found myself on
solid ground
a space within myself
where I am my own
and no one else's

I am a circle.
I am complete.
Whole unto myself
I am no longer in Need
of anything, anyone

Now it is Desire
for
something, someone
a Life
that can be created together

how long have I hungered?
how long have I thirsted,
for such an other?

Wherever, whoever
they are
I know they are making their way
slowly,
snaking towards me
as our paths grow towards
each others'

All is as it should be,
and what is, Is.

I am grateful.

Hwy 64

three of us
laying in the back of a pickup
i think of sardines
and giggle
staring up at the
big blue beautiful
-sky-
is like time here
vast
and infinite
i am humming a Beatles song
under my breath
while the Road sings
beneath me
in harmony
we dance,
today
on this day
when nothing is going
"as planned"
i have unclenched my fists
and find myself
with open hands-
to give
to receive
to embrace
to let go.

Whooooohhooooooooo!

ooooooh if only excitement could translate into text and be read and simultaneaouly felt!!

LOVE-

Stolen Quote of Goodness

"To be nobody but yourself in a world that's doing its best to make you somebody else, is to fight the hardest battle you are ever going to fight. Never stop fighting."

- e.e. cummings

I needed this today. I stole it from Aaron Klein. :) I don't think he'll mind.

I'm just feeling tired of fighting. So, so tired.

Passion. Ambition. Balance. Peace.

Solita.

I am walking alone
on the side of the Road
crossing now and then,
to hitch
or not to hitch?
is my question

I look for the answer
around me
within me
the birds are singing,
a gentle breeze,
I can feel my leg muscles
strengthening
beneath me,
and there
are
bees
everywhere.

I find a crow feather, a gift
left in the grass
I pause and place
it in my
love-tousled hair

I reach the small town Mecca
open the door
to the air-conditioned oasis
looking for holy
water

the man behind the counter
sees the Frida portrait
that hangs from a cord
around my neck
and asks
if that's me

swollen with my pleasure
I almost tell him,
yes.

Dark Chocolate Almonds

the sky is grey
the clouds revealing
nothing of themselves,
only mirroring
reflecting back to me
the state of
my being

i keep putting down my coffee cup
and forgetting
where i left it
searching the countertops
and empty tables
until i forget
what i was looking for
to begin with

sometimes
we don't have answers
just those old familiar questions
that sit around like
old friends
lounging on the couches
in this,
the cafe
of my heart

their familiarity smacks of
something like
lessons
so i sit down and join them
and sip my coffee,
let it be the only thing
that's dark and brooding
this morning
and
lighten

lighten

lighten

up.