We Who Rise, Illumined

“We’ll know our disinformation program is complete when everything the American public believes is false.”~William J. Casey

The new me emerges courageous
from the deep where we presence

our roots. In quiet, commonsense
reveals the fabrications false science

weaves to muffle innate knowledge
self-healing nature I acknowledge

we are divine
our brilliance shines

love sets us free
when we can dare to say:

I am holy.
As are we.

Inspired by: Express, Normal, Tagged, Elixir and Validate.

And by this poem by Rainer Marie Rilke:
The Blessing of Earth

God, every night is hard.
Always there are some awake,
who turn, turn, and do not find you.
Don’t you hear them crying out
as they go farther and farther down?
Surely you hear them weep; for they are weeping.

I seek you, because they are passing
right by my door. Whom should I turn to,
if not the one whose darkness
is darker than night, the only one
who keeps vigil with no candle,
and is not afraid—
the deep one, whose being I trust,
for it breaks through the earth into trees,
and rises,
when I bow my head,
faint as a fragrance
from the soil.

New Moon, New Seeds

Love is everywhere. It protects the very heart of our beings. So it’s all right. Everything’s all right and always has been.~Jane Roberts

We’re trained from birth, our very words
that’s bad, that’s good, we cling, survival

seems impossible from our arrival
we gasp in poisoned air, injected

when we least expect it in a crazy
world where toxins are called medicine

we must endure misguided doctors’
incessant quackery studying separate

cells to proclaim a discovery, another
name to cloak the reaction

to the putrefaction of air and soil
and drinking water, full-scale slaughter

in the name of greed and promulgated
by the fear-porn screed.

We sit alone, we’re trained, perceive no choice
lower our voice, and even so the angry

sons shun their insane mothers
all dialogue blocked with dangerous others

the truth a sauce our diets now
prohibit, our only eyes for lies

as they exhibit the visual clues
of this unhealthy news and yet

if we can set aside our certainty
that harm is looming, dooming, carelessly

and simply quiet, presto, the tempo changes
the heart of the matter rearranges

the score and more, we realize
the love nature displays, miracles

every day in every moment we connect
to source, we laugh, we hug,

we understand, of course,
there may be malice withal

there is a greater force.
We plant the seeds, we open hearts, we call.

 

Everything was all right, always had been all right, it had only been their own anxieties and doubts that ever made it all seem wrong. They were all couched and safe, forever secure, forever jubilant at the heart of their own beings. There was never anything to be afraid of, if only they trusted the great sweet security that forever held the vitality of their beings, for they were all truly splendid, a part of a loving universe that cradled them forever in a safety and love literally beyond all comprehension.~Jane Roberts

It’s All Relative

To my Grandaunt Perdita, photo taken on her 98th birthday.

No one points out the bruises
puce under translucent skin
still we all picture the leap
during sleep.  A gap between
dreams, her body calls.  Pulled
across the floor, barely
in when she falls, slams into
tables and walls. In our impulse
to accommodate her reckless
drive, we push aside the traps,
all clear for her next dive.
It’s just the cost, she sighs,
of being old–well into her
tenth decade–colors bold
and fading. A map of every
mishap, the body’s upbraiding
layered pain. Even now,
she gasps, oh, I’ll remember
this! holding an aching thigh.
No longer limber, more and more
half-dozing in a chair, all the live
parts dancing disconnected
in the air. Rejected pain
both old and new. The only
thing loved ones can do
is offer space to come back
down, recall the sacred place
where we at birth are found.
Death is just a step away.
The clear choice to sing today,
with harmony just out of reach
the song itself is under siege.

Inspired by: Accommodate, Puce, Leap and Impulse and the indomitable will and cheer of an amazing Capricorn woman.

Hiding In Plain Sight

I long to be present for the live
show behind these vacant eyes.
She’s slipped away before we could say
our heartfelt goodbyes.
She was never fully seated,
so it seemed, always floating
above herself engaged in chatter
on little things that didn’t really matter
mosquito buzzing in your ear
and by the time you swat,
it’s disappeared.

Maybe there was something I should have done
tossed a buoy in the ocean of her discontent.
I stood up when he called her loony
helped her trace her steps
when she appeared, having left behind
some little thing, not her mind.
And his gaslighting covering his fear
the two of them lockstep
calling out and insincere.

All the anger disconnected like a cloud
steaming up the mirror.
What they couldn’t say aloud
like poisoned gas, a cloud
I inhaled, but never mind,
that ship has sailed. I find
they’ve locked her here
for safety’s sake. And so we sit
like at a zoo, who’s in the
cage, who’s missing a screw?

Inspired by: Live, Vacant and Ocean.

 

Boiling Frogs

I declare a media shutdown, mute
the system volume that blares

and jeopardizes my relationship
to love. Subtle insidious streams

debut as innocence until I scald
accustomed to the boiling. My error

becomes clear when I refuse to hear
the beating drums. To jump, I focus

on world-people (those without bombs
or obscene hoards of cash) kind and

open-hearted. I walk my talk and
greet peace-lovers and child-raisers,

dog-walkers and home-fixers. We
make our way through days informed

by songs of care-takers and meal-makers.
All concerned with the tones that

matter emerging from our heart-
set intentions to evolve.

Inspired by: Debut, Error, Jeopardize and Accustomed.

The Masquerade

Today is my grandpa’s birth-

day, born 121 years ago,

and isn’t it astounding

that I keep him alive

in my heart?  I know

and love someone born

in 1898.  Love travels

through time with laughter

and wit, weaving lives

together in tapestries

that cannot be destroyed.

We vibrate in these intense

emotions that construct

our very world, carved

into the epigenetic stories

that move us, unseen

and celebrated as we breathe.

Inspired by the unconditional love he gave me, and this photo from Halloween in 1926.

Blame Game

I’m carmelizing veggies while
I sip this hot concoction: old-

style tisane of elder, pepper-
mint and yarrow, ginger, clove and

licorice, rose hip and hyssop,
cinnamon and honey. Bleary-

eyed in this damp morning, rain
and still more rain to come.

My grandson’s teenaged sibling’s chain
a gift, he brought this link to me.

This tardy attempt to nourish
since my efforts to admonish

cover your mouth, wash your hands
betrayed by a sneeze–bless you

–right in my face. He’s three, he’s
innocent, if we must label

our intentions. I’m emptying
a kleenex box, clearing my throat

and coughing, heavy sighs as I
negotiate my breath. And this

just in: my father is choking
from the garlic I am roasting,

past and future generations’
circling irritations, try to

name the source of pain: here, we claim,
it started here, it’s all your fault.

Inspired by: Admonish, Nourish, Label, Betray and Sibling.

Blameworthy

Each morning I’m prompted

to warp time and space

and breathe in peculiar

rhyme with no warning of

what I represent, rep-

rehensible base

a disgrace I expose.

Digging up bones from those

unmarked graves hidden

in this bucolic space.  I can’t

leave, faced with ferocious

resistance — how dare I

disturb what is seething

— malcontent label, dis-

trusted clear seeing.  Now

this thread of secret sorrow

linking yesterdays’

tomorrows brings me here,

my heart bared to receive

your arrows.  Aim and fly.

I yield.  My song unsealed

what we grieve.  A few more

tears and sighs before I

reach rage’s primal dance,

claim my inheritance,

singing, this tune is mine.

Inspired by Bucolic, Warp, Represent and Peculiar.

Leap Out (of the box)

The nos are the stepping stones that get you there ~ Andrea Waltz

If I modify the picture
I recall based on these two

(a throbbing innovator poised
on the ledge and my crotchety

father’s why can’t he mind?)
I discover I have never been

naughty. Arriving here
with a hero’s heart

—dressed in pink lace (torn)
with tight shiny shoes (flung)—

bright eyes and the evidence
so clear my oldest brother

needed glasses from hearing so
many nos. I’m leaping forward

then to go back now
circling into myself

and the most powerful version
of us. (Standing up and away

from those little desks and the prattled
history lies, reciting the facts

blocking the intuitive
deep knowing.) A grandmother might

open the door (but she’s pacing
forgetful, safe in a place

that reeks of urine and bleach.)
Schoolmates pushed in competition

separation, everyone desperate
for unconditional regard.

Today I belong, ready for this
daring feat together, right

beside him embracing
non-linear time.

Inspired by Recall, Picture, Modify and Naughty.

It’s All Improv

The whole cosmos is a constant alteration of one being. ~ Diogenes (paraphrased.)

It is difficult to see

what I condone 

tacitly doing my laundry

in private, by chance hearing

my mother say, Mick Jagger

is so ugly — even now, 

she’s called a great

beauty.  Instantly I feel

the collar tighten a notch

in a flurry of beliefs

rising like a murder

of crows, black and noisy

above the roof

of my consciousness.  I’m critical

of her criticism, desperate

to belong with this long

and narrow face, an unattainable

ideal cutting off my

breath, dragging me into

subservience.  The fractals

of the tales of separation, cascading

down into a canyon.

Only one way out, and so you

jump

leap

hurl

yourself into the frigid water

just between the wicked

cliffs, beyond the jagged

stumps hidden 

in the roiling.

Sometimes I eat what I know

will cause me agony.

Sometimes I dream the keys

to all the secret passages.

Sometimes I wake just

in time

to shout yes and

to my no.

Inspired by: Collar, Plenty, Flurry, CondoneLaundry, and the dverse prompt Cascade (I’m late for dverse, but this video really inspired me.)