The Leading Edge

Our vibration goes up when we serve.~Thomas Huebl

A baby won’t ask for anything
you can’t give. All you have
requested by life that wants
to live. And I’m not trash talkin’
your mama, so caught in tight
ancestral trauma that a cry
in that wailing treble lands
like a devil in those spaces
genetically disheveled.
There is no blame, the centuries
laid out clearly but we can’t see
the hidden sculpture, life
is not as it seems. We think the
pain may become our mainstay
if we don’t struggle. Make way.
We find ourselves while running
from what’s wronging
flee the leading edge, our
most farfetched longing
arms we hold outstretched
we’re cautious, sniff the aromatic
clues, scents enigmatic and so
problematic and yet
a child knows when it’s time
to snuggle, surrender to the
fear. So often trouble
is the gift. When we accept
unwrap, perplexed, but willing
to be still upon the lap
we’ve cried for, all that rises
in connection the winds,
the seas, the branches bending
low to feel our wailing cease.
Finally heard, we acquiesce
and “carry me!

Inspired by Mainstay, Devil, Century and Aromatic.

Soundcloud recording here.

By All Appearances

All the small uneventful choices
the casual snap as my sons’ voices
raised in play, every second of the day
and I, devoted, watchful mother
(every giggle smothered) straight-
faced behind the camera, integrated
brotherhood, caught the three
(without invisible me) through
every season, yes, but albums filled
spring breaks by oceans, thrilled
today we page through what appears
a tribute to pure love and joy,
(wait, here I am with the boys!)
even the tears seem to say
no one reneged, the cast,
seamless, flows. We chose
to share photos between our homes.
It looks like no one was ever alone
and wishing in the dark a family goal
unbroken, nuclear and whole.

Inspired by: Renege, Integrated, Spring, Devote and the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt making small, uneventful choices.

Soundcloud recording here.
Image from 1993 on Cape Canaveral National Seashore in Florida.

Wake Up To What’s Happening

Honey, you’re the reason I can’t sleep at night.~John Fogerty

In the darkness I untangle
the threads of distress

a call from my three-year-old
son, he’s cold, barely dressed

locked out of the house again,
he crossed the busy street

to find shelter with the kind
lady with blankets and heat.

Cue my furious tirade to his father
who’s learned false penitence

repeating won’t ever happen
again–to hush my defense

of the child the state has
deemed safe with no rhyme

or reason besides a sperm
donation. Did I mention that I’m

dreaming? And I am the child,
the unmindful man, the mother

frustrated, the road, the phone,
the imperious state and the other

choices I made to create
this sticky web, the buzzing, frantic

fly more and more enmeshed
in myself, hovering near panic

as the spider I am
approaches til waking slow,

delicately spun, I dissolve
with all the pieces of myself

in tow, arrive into this quiet
astonishment, anticipating light.

Inspired by: Dream, Allegory, Rhyme, and Astonishment.

Soundcloud recording here.

It’s No Secret

The orange-violet sky lights
my meditation until now
squinting into golden blessings
the beauty bows my head.

Reverence walks me unsolemn
guides the frivolous joy
songs through my veins
like blood and so

I refuse to say goodbye
to childhood when I see you
we turn the world upside down
and play and play and play.

Inspired by: Guide, Refuse, Goodbye, Secret and Frivolous.

Soundcloud recording here.

Featured image by the amazing Jessica Buono.

Medicine Bag

For E, choosing high school soon.

On the brink of this vast
wonderland, hurray resounds
off the cliffs of middle
school, where you’ve been
humming as you grow.
This tall man’s body you
inhabit with all the melodies
of childhood still alive
vibrating chords you can pluck
at will. I celebrate
your strength, tap your shoulder
to show your lineage,
this wave of life that thrums
to live in you, through you.
I offer crystals to support
your journey, grounding your
utter brilliance as you
navigate the openings,
releasing the false tones
to settle into your own instrument
finely tuned. You take your place
in the exquisite symphony.
Your voice is exactly
what we need to hear.
The song you are
magical and clear,
resonating into the musical
planet. Touched, changed,
we rejoice your being.

Inspired by False, Wonderland, Vast and Hurray.

Listen to this on soundcloud here.

Girl Power!

We cease our labor, dive
into that fling your arms
around joy when you get
gotten. Fire uncovered
under pastel pretties,
our blaze begotten,
we discover girl power!
The musical beings we are
empower each other beyond
the scoffing provable hypotheses.
Doffing those scientific hats
we’re up to bat.
They doubt what we know
bound to their blinders
saying what’s so with
constant reminders of
facts they’ve learned in books.
We take a look and see
they’ve forgotten their experiments
need them, spirit-
less evidence decreed
crystals are just rocks,
for the lack of a voice box.
Soured by their lack of magic,
and even though that’s tragic,
we slide around their tricky
doubts, weaving our knowing
through their stance
without a single glance
to see if they’ll follow.
Listen: I’m a warrior for
sentience, it’s all stardust
wherever you are. Sitting criss-
cross applesauce with younglings
we discover how to run
rings around the stagnant
places. We do fun things:
offer handmade impossible
treats, our pizza flavors:
blueberry love
is our favorite. Singing
the new grove as we co-
create reality with no limits.
In harmony we offer
our hearts: just try one bite,
you’ll see just how we be.

Inspired by: Discover, Labor, Musical, Pastel and a visit with lovely grandnieces.

Recording on soundcloud here.

Aftermath

My hope: a jolt of caffeine
will expand all this constraint

in temples, neck, clenched hand,
tight jaw, and all the inner spaces

filtered in gloom like creeping
through a musty tomb.

I’ve learned–when my cells cry
for water, lacking sustenance

of the only daughter–to listen
to the signals, subtle

that all this clanging tends
to muffle. Even so, I stretch

out flat, sleep the only cure
I can endure. In my deep

healing now, these pains
are rare. My new eccentric

lifestyle yields to care
for body heart and mind

and how the we affects
the complex connectionality.

But yesterday, a child of three
ecstatic after weeks to be with me—

the towers we built, the muffins
baked, the songs we sang

to geese beside the frozen lake–
he couldn’t nap, his inner joy

and power as I treasured this
young boy tuning in

to his questing heart, his demands
to know simply how electricity

moves through the house,
ignites the soul of you and me.

This last concept a bit too much.
He argued that it couldn’t be

that he was sourced by energy.
The climax reached, his powers ignited

and how to integrate all this excitement?
He leaned against my chest to hear

The Way We Work, so tired,
pointing at each illustration even so

determined to acquire
new balance as he ventures out

and then, climbs back into the
comfort of my lap again.

Inspired by: Rare, Sleep, Eccentric and Climax.

Listen to this poem on soundcloud here.