Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Willing and Able

I know you’ve been disappointed.
You feel like anyone you’ve ever loved has left you behind
Fumbling in some awkward silence.
I came to tell you that the love inside of you will never run out.
What you see with your eyes,
What you feel with your hands is the flowering of love
Run your fingers across the soft green carpet
Lie down in that grass
Gaze as sunflowers do
Raise your brilliant head to the sun
But do not be fooled
There is more
Deep in the belly of the earth lies the seed of something eternal.
Knock with soft slow steps upon its earthly door
Take this pilgrimage with me
When you feel the world is empty, dig deeper
Trace the roots back to its origin
There you will find the reflection of your beloved
Press your head upon its chest
Let your heart sync
And when the time comes you will be willing and able.

Sunday, June 3, 2012


I am searching for ways to no longer Be
Because Being is painful and
Loving is painful and
Wanting is painful and
Losing even more so.
I am beginning to understand what Hafez said when he speaks of the lover’s hand
Opening and closing
Opening and closing
This is my heart opening and closing
Loving and then no longer wanting to love
This is the Beloved giving and taking away
This is you coming into my life with those blue eyes and that silly grin
This is you leaving me and the ghost of what we could have been.


There is a draft building up in my bones
Grief slipping through the windows and doors
You are leaving me behind
(Because the people who care the most are always the ones that are left behind…)
I should have known by now that I always want more
I’ll take my axe and my pick and chip away until I can gobble up your soul
But you are leaving me behind
And there is no more time to do all the things we wanted to do
And there is no more time to become all the things I hoped we would be
And now we’ll never know
And this grief-like chasm cracks me open and leaves me exposed
And now I must remember again what it is like to be alone.

The Thought of Losing You

The thought of losing you caused so much pain I wanted to run from it
I wanted instead to feel nothing
To eat something
To watch something
To clean everything
To talk
To laugh
To sing
To dance
To move away from the rawness of my heart
To move away from the truth
You are leaving
My teacher told me that I am to sit with it
I am stubborn
My teacher told me to sit in it
Love is not possession
My teacher told me to swim in it and so I swam into the inky blackness
Blind to an end and an outcome but hoping
I swam
The fire in my lungs burning away my tears
I dove
Deeper and deeper into the darkness
I plunged
Until there was
Only light
Only ribbons of sparkling water on the bed of the ocean
(A heart ripping open until there is no pain, no numbness, no heart)
Only me a crystal reflecting the sun
Only me
Only bliss
Only love

Thursday, May 17, 2012

Thoughts From Last Fall

(Here is another scribble I found while uncluttering...(is that a word?)

I am beginning to think that I am surrounded by sacred spaces even within the city itself. I am going to make an attempt to connect with them, observe, just absorb the hushed peace of my surroundings while being aware. I try to avoid other people and conversations in these spaces but I think that I must respect that even they are a part of this wilderness. As I reach out to nature, I feel her in turn reaching into me, through me. I don't want to forget this feeling, this hushed sacredness, this subtle language of the breaching of barriers. No longer closed I feel something within me open. Perhaps this is prayer, no pleas, no supplications, no demands, but beautiful communion with things seen and unseen. I can feel Fall approaching, cooler mornings, crisper breezes, leaves slowly being shed, whatever is no longer needed discarded leaf by leaf- transformation in the many faces of one tree. They say Fall will come early this year- we shall see. A bird came to peek curiously at me. I forgot to bring an offering. I hope to remember next time just to say, "Hello, I have missed you and I am happy to spend time with you again."
I have seen butterflies, squirrels, birds that remind me of sparrows, spider webs and strange winged insects hovering near, bees busy over garbage cans, a man dancing while he swept leaves into piles by the church, a Native American in traditional dress walking through the mall with a Thank You plastic shopping bag.
I turn to the Mother, "No messages for me today?"
She says, "Bring me an offering the next time around. Listen, and discard what you no longer need. It is that time."

These Kings and Queens

(This is an old poem I dug up while Spring cleaning my room- I kinda like its simplicity. Not sure when I wrote it...)

 These kings and queens
carry within themselves
something broken,
cocooned within the secret tunnels
of some unknown paradise.
Such dirty pretty things
cannot be mistaken as frivolous fantasies,
but as the foundation of our essence
our sanity
our livelihood
our dream.