System Update

Download” refers to the transmission that is felt when meditators from all over the world join together for a presencing meditation experienced through a global field.~Thomas Huebl.

My friends want to talk
about God. We preface and

disentangle religious dogma
while crows caw from treetops.

The poplar drops a golden leaf
into my cupped hands in the depths

of morning meditation. In the zone
every breath is a blessing and

more.  What is written has been
translated–and just one leap

from heart to tongue is a weight
that obscures each miracle.

The rain begins gently, like
a patient, playful teacher.

One cool drip in my thirsty skin.
There is an intelligence, high

and available presenting each insight.
We are distracted by everything.

Our way simply follows
the heart, discovers love

behind each bluster of ideological
confusion. Listen to the defenders

of muddled beliefs stuck on the
flypaper of awareness. Past the

logical fallibilities, the
unexamined premises, the sure

and rotting foundation–too tedious
to argue with a pebble in the shoe.

We stop, lean on each other to shake
out the tiny irritation. Our soul

speak is clear and continuous.
The global mind we create coheres

with each intentional moment.
We are surrounded by

mysteries. Abandon the calendar,
stop the clocks.  Study

the skies where stars we
have always been splinter

into a new reality we can’t know
with old-world tools.

Inspired by: Written, Pebble and Zone.

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Under The Stories

For Sue and Tilly

Hawks kree in the bowl
of tree-encircled sky above.

I sit in gentle sway whole
and deep in a container, love

zinging through cells out
into you, my extended

immune system overwhelmed and stressed.
Suspend flight, landing

finally in this expanded
heartspace. Autocorrected and

chastised away from our true
speech, we dare with a scintilla

of hope to utter secrets.
We take our hidden pieces

out into this humid air
thick with revelations, vulnerable

as we show what shames us.
The sickly pieces, pale and frail

from the daily diet of
being shunned, slowly absorb

the light. We bring out
gratitude for the lifeboats

constructed in dire straits
which carried us to this new

shore. A black dog instructs
us to be present, wriggling

joy at each chance meeting,
time no factor. We turn

the corner of trouble and exclaim
in wonder

at this new face, vibrations
we gift each other, serene and

sacred connection. Right now
is everything we’ve searched for.

We bring it all
into presence.

Inspired by: Diet, Flight, Scintilla and Trouble.

Shut Up And Dance With Me

Today I co-create the city, releasing
the cynicism that insists

I don’t matter. Look, every tiny
child knows their essential part

of this song. This thronging populace
has a rhythm and beat that can sweep

a country soul away from her center.
Settling in and embracing is a new

way to flirt with the stress–
so much energy, the waves pounding

and emotions flying in through the
aether. Once I would have reacted

until I eventually found a way through
or fell into the well of triggered

panic. Last night the full moon sang
a song of being fully present.

Today I know I am plugged
into the matrix, and what is in

formation is my word mattering,
as I enrich the world.

Inspired by: Walk The Moon’s song, Flirt, Cynicism, Eventually, Enrich and the Saturday Stream of Consciousness prompt: “co-“. (The prompt is to write stream of consciousness with no editing.

Grounded and Electrified

Two red-tailed hawks arrive
perching on dock rails.

He is first.  She lands focused
on fish below, fierce pair

opening a portal on this strangely
cool August day where I’d been

wondering where summer has flown.
I abandon my civilized travel

list. I’ve been balancing, grounded
and electrified, expanding my field.

Each sight and scent clueing
endless ascension spirals

into authentic life. Since every word
is weighted, I struggle to lift

my message until these hunting
mates take flight as shadows

fall from a flock of noisy geese.
They watch from leafy tops,

treeing while I human.
My backpack is crammed, yet

the lovely lake insists on folding
this origami moment, silenced

songbirds, predators motionless
lonely poet-fumbling share

the ineffable slipping past
acerbic tongues, our

intentions afloat like trees
reaching across morning reflections.

Inspired by: Civilize, Authentic, Acerbic and Endless.

Quintessence

“We can not solve our problems with the same level of thinking that created them”
Albert Einstein

I no longer wish to improve,
tweak and fine-tune thinking.

Instead I show up graceless
and grass-less, a straight

newbie in the arising
consciousness. I’ve been house-

sitting though I’ll not own
another mortgage casket draining

every productive hour. Now
I pay to pray with trees

protected in parks or plea
private landowners to overlook

my dances in pristine gardens.
Each morning I dip into

the aether of our deep
connection, shyly cup

my hands into the flow
and pull up this dripping

mouthful. Sometimes I splash
my face. Sometimes I lick

each shattering droplet-
fractal of the spiraling

galaxies.  Leaking through
fingers into the page

of our intentions, we ink an
infinity loop of our hearts.

Inspired by: Wish, Improve, Newbie and Grass.

Letter From The Front

The incidence of déjà vu increases.
My favorite cinnamon replicated;

now the two nest side by side
in the cupboard. The weatherman

predicts sunny and clear and yet
fog has swallowed the lake.

Two dates with loved ones cancelled.
The insidious hint of death and

destruction tightens my chest.
I’m eating so if my well-

being depends on diet, how
fortuitous food is available still.

Someone is nearing the end
of life and for once I hope

it isn’t me. Finally peeling
back the layers of ignorance

forced by education and language,
the theft of my inheritance, the good

earth raped and pillaged, for sale and
all the money crying in cages of the

one percent–the catchy phrase we call
our masters lately. The propagandized

mind numb to the shadows.
I’m finally open to love, standing

to claim this darkness. The hoarders
seeped in greed surround me but

their narrative can’t resonate now.
Being well in the poisoned air

requires this deliberate, delicate
shift in the clear and present danger

of endless war on war,
just a horror story after all

to seize our waking dream.
I choose to sing instead.

Inspired by: Shadow, Fortuitous, Destruction and Well-being.

We’re Out Of Time

Will you recognize me? Call my name…rain keeps falling down, down, down.~Keith Forsey and Steve W. Schiff

When he leaves, he calls
goodbye, I’m never coming back.

So cute until the very next
visit is delayed and my

gut clenches. Another child once
sang, don’t you forget about me

into her video just weeks before
the crash that left her forever

young, this photo on the fridge.
This moment, are you here?

Karma used to be misguided
authority’s threat for good behavior,

or that godawful exhortation
act like a lady, for heaven’s sake.

Unpacking that cosmology still
like Mary Poppins’ spacious bag filled

with impossible things. All of it
leans me in to tell you:

I love you. Through all the constructs
of separation. We’re taught to

ride our emotions like bucking
broncos, determined to master

what simply flows. Stuck in the ring
proud agony, suffering refusal

to loosen the reins, the first step
out of time. On the lakeshore

with laden clouds, amassed and
weighing down the gray, featureless

sky, I let go even the waiting.
Here under pressure

saying at last
I do not know but

I care
with every vibrating cell.

Inspired by: Authority, Spacious, Lady and Karma.