The Worst Sort

Bad laws are the worst sort of tyranny.~Edmund Burke

It’s 66, the grass a brilliant green,
the mulch freshly applied, house-showing clean.
These lists gripping to-do intensity.
Flood warning mirrors sheer immensity

inside out. I ground in the dark vastness
before dawn. Morning practice steadfastness.
Remember to breathe. Seething in fervent
need: fresh air, big sky, lake-side observant.

The years of sickness forged humility.
Honoring my vessel, tranquility
essential. Every boundary ingrained
through chaos, snark, dissonance’s disdain.

Each change invisible. I look the same.
Healing under the surface, no acclaim.
Now I stand strong watching the world aflame
as tyrants ravage health, a cruel game.

Inspired by: Fervent, Vessel, Gripping, Forge and the OctPoWriMo Day 7 theme Balance/Sweet Spot.

Written for every person I know who has received a jab and is now experiencing a totally coincidental health decline.

Featured photo: A great egret flashed white in the murky morning.

Every Step I Take

If you can see your path laid out in front of you step by step, you know it’s not your path. Your own path you make with every step you take. That’s why it’s your path.~Joseph Campbell

Poised in the liminal dark as nowness
permeates my dream-mist, I see how this
planet goes. I ogle eagles plunging
sky to lake, master dimensions lunging

strong and fierce–on my breaks from the daughter
tasks my heart insists transpierce my oughtas.
Each simple step reveals and can’t be missed
presenting like a veritable kiss

feels like a fist so I comply. What dies
is resistance to the flow. With new eyes
intentional trajectory aims high
below the murky surface, serene, dives.

Inspired by: Ogle, Mist, Veritable and the OctPoWriMo day 6 prompts: intention, design, dream, purpose.

Featured images: Above, an eagle fishing under an improbable sky. Below, the dive.

Silent Connection

Weaving her spinnerets she float-descends
on gossamer threads in a straight line, ends
table-side. I raise my cup, try to blend
like this poised heron fishing by the bend.

We three: spider, bird, human sink beneath
the fracas of manmade reality
that makes us quash true knowledge to survive.
Respect this morning seals the web of life.

Inspired by Quash, Spider, Seal and Fracas.

Featured Image: During my Little Miss Muffet adventure at breakfast, this great egret patiently fished.

Never A Night

There was never a night or a problem that could defeat sunrise or hope.~Bernard Williams

Dawn thrusts rosy fingers across the vast
entices my cold feet through dew-kissed grass.
I’m spinning in the primordial light
each moment’s change, a gasp. Heron’s flight

westward, painter of watery hued sky
reminds me I must let emotions fly.
Undone by yesterday’s grief, as I fell
into the well of sadness for a spell

this bright hope pulls me into a new day.
My father rubs his forehead, bows to pray.
Look up! I bring him photos: brilliant lake
suffused fleeting radiance quells heartbreak.

Inspired by: Forehead, Vast, Watery and Primordial.

Featured image: This morning’s sunrise was spectacular and fleeting. This heron flew over.

A Far Cry

“In order to see birds it is necessary to become part of the silence.”~Robert Lynd

Far away his wise counsel laser keen
reveals the roots that constant drama screens.
I sit by lake and ground in dawn, attend
a patient great blue heron who can blend

as racing gray of this cloudscape conceals
the blue I’m always searching for. The wheel
of fortune turns. I bleed with each riposte
surrounded by the haunted, for their ghost

I love. The unmarked minefield of fresh grief
is marked by feathered messengers who see
my need. The spectacle earthward glides clear.
Mourning dove lands. The tears are ever near.

Inspired by: Attend, Cloudscape, Spectacle, Riposte and the written in the Stream of Consciousness Saturday rules with the prompt near/far.

Featured image: This morning’s constantly changing cloudscape.

Death Comes Calling

The wake of vultures glides innoxious, one
by one. The cold snapped the glass doors closed. Spun
into waiting, subdued. Death knell obtrudes.
Déjà vu. Signs lamp-bright in morning dew.

This time my wisdom spurs rejection. Closed
mouth, I listen. The abjection exposed
is immune to reflection. A lecture
is no cure for dying’s architecture.

A black harbinger chimney-perched surveys.
Message imparted, moon-strong, swoops away.
Eagle slow-wings, hawk cries, intensity
hones. Heartache receives death’s immensity.

Inspired by: Lecture, Lamp and Innoxious.

Featured image: Just a few of the many avian spirit messengers this morning. Even as I write this, the plovers are ke-dee-ing, hawks are skreeing, in an otherwise eerie silence (since the porch doors are firmly closed against the brrr cold).

I’m Here When You Wake

There is no excuse for indifference and cowardice when it comes down to one’s own life and freedom. There is no excuse at all!~Gary D. Barnett

The equinox 22 advice–be strong
have faith–arrives with a string of fives, long
day ahead in gray chill with miracles
if you believe angelic oracles

I use the tools that appear. The field’s clear
responsive when I wake or dream. Here
society’s vestiges seem like ghosts.
Their messages haunt the wealthy whose boasts

fade now they shun lethal boutiques where
air–somehow transformed, can harbor hosts vile
carriers. They shudder in dissonance
blasting blame outward, find no resonance.

Unanchored, numb, they drift upon my shore.
I offer empathy, compassion’s door
open even when inevitably
they focus all their shame and dread on me.

I walk the sovereign path, now sparkling,
know that I’m an electric being.
Grounded and tuning with each breath, I stand
in my integrity hold out my hand.

Inspired by: Boutique, Lethal, Sparkling, Vestige, the fall equinox, and a weather forecast of 55 all day long.

Featured image: An eagle fishing just off “my” shore. How I’ll miss this treasured lake life!

Awake Before The Crows

While crows sleep, I search dark cloud-covered skies
obscuring moon, full and bursting, devise
schemes to pare down, live minimalistic.
A killdeer in distress spirals, mystic

plover calls. Ancient lyrics fall on ears
stuffed with sounds duplicitous feeding fears
society subsists on. Making lists
while sunrise hints and plays with blue-shade mists

I’ve lost the rhyme; I’m trying to stay true
to love’s most simple path. Aim high. Askew
impulse-driven males precipitously
begin panicked flight uncritically.

I’m grounding, watch my family run by
making wild choices. It’s their time to fly.
At last the lightening sky, overcast
grim bearers of gloom threatening amassed

the day forebodes with muted calls to wake
and treasure even this intense heartache.
Hummingbirds voracious in fall’s chill, sip
before starting their migratory trip.

Inspired by: Duplicitous, Crow and Subsist.

Thinking Outside The Box

The black bamboozle box lurks foreboding
leaps to his voice to flood the cabin-zing
hey google, dissipate the peace, release
the latest fear, please don’t hesitate, seize

reality; I can’t create today
too frightened by the scenes shown yesterday.
He’s hypnotized. He cannot reach the ground.
Past constructs spinning, holding him unsound.

Our paths deviated when the earth showed
common sense beats electronic mirth-mode
that keeps anxiety on high alert
and energy’s sweet currency diverts.

Inspired by: Bamboozle, Foreboding, Cabin and Dissipate.

Featured image: What we create today seeds in ways we cannot fathom.

Sacred Medicine

The medicine is already within the pain and suffering. You just have to look deeply and quietly. Then you realize it has been there the whole time.~Thomas Hubl

Before dawn my evolutionary
stance requires I feel all the hurt buried
alive. Pain molecules from cold storage
thaw in the healing light. Hungry, forage

through my sensibilities. Agony
even when expected–I opened wounds
cannily–thwarts my intentional tunes
like some ribald cat-calling ancestor

who got off scot-free, leaving the high cost
with interest to me. Wake, dreaming goddess
in bare feet, indigenous to earth, ground
and release. Raw transfiguration frees.

Inspired by: Thwart, Indigenous, Scot-free and Ribald.

Featured image: Lake reflects illusions, reminds me to question my interpretations.