Don’t New Normal Me

An abnormal reaction to an abnormal situation is normal behavior.~Viktor Frankl

Twenty ripening spaghetti squash hang
goldening the garden. Orange and red
yellow zinnias burst in a color bang
call to awaken as the sunrise spreads

rosy skies west. The east is glorious.
Dawn in my hometown, a fleeting visit
now the skies compete in pinks curious
the morning’s cool under heat’s implicit

sultry air.  Here an old bass leaps. Waves ring
smaller circles as minnows flee.  Recall
past Augusts, shouldn’t some morning birds sing?
I’ve ceased comparing years, a construct all

along, time shows her true colors, slipping
in and out of these timelines—narrative
ridiculous, and I won’t play.  Flipping
how life flows absurd—it’s imperative

to speak the truth, do you know how?  Don’t New
Normal me, your credibility will
not stand the test of common sense, you
try to sway beyond your ability

to drown my sovereign song. Limitless
creator, sing!  Simple as breath concealed
power now rings. Harmony stimulus:
ground in fall’s score, insanity revealed.

Inspired by: Sway, Accidental, Credibility and Sovereign.

Rise From The Muck

The great news is, these natural remedies are still rooted in the earth and they are waiting to be found, again. They are waiting for you to happen by with the knowledge and the desire to turn them into medicine.~James Walton

It’s a beautiful way to see the world
at first sight my indolence might take your
breath. Jasmine redolence blooms unfurled
in summer’s drowsy daze. I’m in my core

and praising, grateful for each miracle,
not simpático with culture’s fear-rush
to judgment. Masked faces aren’t lyrical
denying how our bodies work. This fuss

one more failed psyop when we wake. What’s real
cannot be hidden, so I show my face.
My microbiome thanks yours for this feeling
hug, informing matter, human race

let go of false narratives in the thrum
and flow–electricity in aether–
still the lies that crowd into your head. Come.
Create, balance, our harmonic teachers.

Featured image: Lythrum salicaria, Purple Loosestrife, in full glory rising from a mucky swamp.  Considered an invasive species, its medicinal qualities are unheralded. Things are not always as they appear.

Inspired by: Redolence, Sight, Simpatico and Breath.

Here Are Your Miracles

In the place of deep listening stars sing
our brilliance exults joy octave-waves ring
what do I miss in my habitual
cocooning in a chrysalis I cling

until today I release finally free
emerging in the miracles wholly
—if you’ve been praying for them, here they are:
nestlings, hatchlings, fiercely protected, see

the lakeshore brimming intentional streams
watched and warmed, warning intruders these teams
in endless flights feed open demanding
come to vibrant life manifested dreams

Hold this space of possible. Touch unknown
improbable enter plain hearts of stone
Deep inside power emerges beyond
the layered false world-stage that’s cracking. Own

your essential voice, your sovereignty. We
are born in this moment, each sacred key
alive and vibrant in our waking thrill
as mysteries reveal how love agrees.

The Rising Song

Water has a memory and carries within it our thoughts and prayers. As you yourself are water, no matter where you are, your prayers will be carried to the rest of the world.~Masaru Emoto

The mellifluous day flows lovely rhymes
through discordant notes intelligence chimes

I expand to include though I don’t splash
in the shallow places where chaos grimes

clarity. Only tell me: I’m so scared,
I’ll meet you in pure presence waters where

we are sanctified by prayer. My love
we arrive to choose this ascending stair

or wallow deaf and blind gossamer clutch
the dark web’s insubstantial weaving such

panicked heft. You cannot bring your fear
or any of the heavy things that smutch

our divine crystalline nature birthing
words dipped in love, transmitting light, earth-ing.

This is the acid test. The shortcut waves
beg you to receive. You turn away. Dearth

plods through joy with muddy feet destined to
grieve as all you have is taken, blessed and

desperation fuels unholy. Release.
Let go. Love overflows if you but rest!

Ah, how I long to bring you in my stream
yet now it’s clear our paths are each unique.

The role you play I cannot understand.
After last night’s storming, liquid’s agleam

washed and cleansed, my soul’s intention I claim
these sacred waters that I bless and name

avail abundance, teach me to receive.
My vessel rises: sovereignty’s the game.

Inspired by: Acid, Gossamer, Heft and Shortcut.

Featured image of three herons escorting each other through last night’s storm.

In my new resolve to clean up my transmission, soundcloud recordings are paused for a while while I learn how to create my own beats in 432 HZ.  I am committed to fuel only the highest trajectory Now.


Oh thou who…beset the road I was to wander in, thou wilt not with…evil round enmesh.”~Omar Khayyám 

Across the chasm of lies where some maniac
cries some strange fiction he writes in
the sand, saying common sense writ in my hand
can no longer suffice–obscene price–this

planned propaganda is not just domestic
the outreach of evil is global.
And we who celebrate life have to blink.
Who is buying this fraud? Who has never

met god? Not that Vindictive Fellow above.
Mind of creation that lives, dies in love
informing matter, recycling stars
unmasked, unadorned at rest then in motion

the true pulse of connection unafraid
in spite of the malevolence displayed
on the world stage, the poorly written script.
The actors are well paid but not by me

I withdraw my currency to invest
my inspired creation and my flow
informed by the Void where I go, sweet rest
each day, emerge refreshed, in light I play.


Inspired by: Maniac, Domestic, Sand, Chasm and Write.  The Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt is to select a word that starts with“ch”  and use that (bonus if you start with it) in “stream of consciousness writing, meaning no editing (typos can be fixed), and minimal planning on what you’re going to write.”

Two Eagles Flying

Two eagles fly over my house, carry
prayers to the creator. These mornings
I sit in a shaft of light that streams from
a hole in the roof of my consciousness.

I’ve built my sacred altar there; ev’ry
worry and difficulty that emerges
I lift to that place beyond my knowing,
a multitude ascending luminous

and I realize I’m building a bridge
each moment I offer my nescience
clarity and peace reveal I cannot
becomes a path to the light.

Inspired by two bald eagles flying over. Before today, I’d only ever seen them flying solo here.

Featured image found here.  (The ones flying here were too high, and I without my camera.)

Mystery Calls

What is greatest in our existence, what makes it precious beyond words, has the modesty to use sorrow in order to penetrate our soul.~Rainer Maria Rilke

Late afternoon glade peering into deep
shadows, called by the wounded cat across
the lake. Surprise zygodactylous feet
as a yellow-bellied sapsucker hops

drumming the sacred, opening heart til
the watcher is revealed. Some tiny sign
in our conjoined field signals human shrill
and off we go, one flying sweet and fine

one trodding on the path transformed, refreshed
by this quick lesson out of time. Present
I surrender, my heart’s intent enmeshed:
together we transmute joy from lament.


Inspired by:  Refresh and Surrender and an industrious yellow-bellied sapsucker. The birds on the lake are showing up in force to bring me to the next level of my awakening.

The gorgeous photograph featured here is from

Lessons in Watchful Waiting

Let yourself not be misled by the notes that fall to you from the generous wind. Wait watchfully.  Hands that are eternal may come to play upon your strings.~Rainer Maria Rilke, Afternoon, Before Beethoven’s Missa Solemnis.


Green heron statue

eyes quick silver minnow school

patient stone pounces


Inspired by: Photograph, Quick, my beloved Rilke, and the delight of watching a green heron at breakfast this morning.

Featured image is a gorgeous photograph by Gregg Thompson.

By Any Other Name

Green heron, shy, lovely, not green

red and gray and blue, white

and yellow, huddled now like a shore

rock, while mourning doves flutter

and half-step, red-winged blackbirds

kiss in midair, swallows dive and orioles

sing orange from behind green leaves.

Still and patient, solitude

alert amid the dance in the air

watching too the flickers underwater

spelling us all into forgetfulness

with all of that unmoving

does my awareness touch 

your sinking deeper into the tall

grasses, not here, shhh, all

the disjointed improbable colors

gentle-blended into the quiet waiting.

Each of us, uniquely qualified

step into the role of our lifetimes

being here now with loving hearts.

Inspired by a patient, shy green heron.

Featured image found here.

Inside Job

By making a firm commitment to being ruthlessly honest with yourself and exploring your own inner dimensions via meditation, self-enquiry, contemplation, etc, you are opening up the possibility of the birth of a true revolutionary.~Caitlin Johnstone

Today I grapple with grief
and binoculars, weighty beliefs
and a light touch on the iron
in the fire, my desire for a new leaf.

My messengers tease me into flow
fierce males protect the nesting, show
their prowess, diving fearless, impelled
by right action, never bespelled, they know

on such a day I emerged from the womb
after forty weeks of listening, classroom
of epigenetic trauma I choose to integrate
called here in this perceived moment of doom.

Under chemtrailed skies, domesticated
opinions entrained dissonance dated
in a fearful past at last I unplug
from this drug my dearest loves sedated

At the feeder, still in orioles’ sight
bright bursts of nature’s song in me alight
creating always under leaden skies
never extinguish what is real, the light.