Perspective Change

“Fire is the Sun unwinding from the tree’s log.”~R. Buckminster Fuller

Never forget that you are one of a kind. Never forget that if there weren’t any need for you in all your uniqueness to be on this earth, you wouldn’t be here in the first place. And never forget, no matter how overwhelming life’s challenges and problems seem to be, that one person can make a difference in the world. In fact, it is always because of one person that all the changes that matter in the world come about. So be that one person.~R. Buckminster Fuller

At sunsight we suffer a sea change,
paint in grays in the turning

we call dawn. From moonlight’s shimmer
of silvery waters, a palette inspired

by dark, splashed gently with
white and moody mauve, deepest

blues touching taupes and
licking lavender. A tiny

yellow drop. None of the pinks suit
chic-subtle in monochrome.

The sun is film-noir whispers
veiled disinterest. The I who once

chased those golden waves to paradise
would drown in a platitude of mourn.

In my deep healing torsion today, I spin
away from pseudo-science manipulations,

catch light beautifully warm and cool.
A new world arises. We reflect connections.

Sumptuous, velvety fog plays
well with others, celebrating we.

Inspired by: Suit, Dawn, Chic and Platitude and a foggy morning that fills me with so much gratitude, inspiration and a true knowing we can effect change!

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Merci beaucoup

Across the water tenebrous woods
await light’s generous revelations.

In the chill, I huddle and watch
what seemed insurmountable in dark

emerging, eminent by noon.
I practice, say I don’t know

in one thousand wondrous ways
that sound like thanks, gratitude

soothing my frightened amygdala with
an intentional evolution, planetary

and necessary as two plovers arc
white-feathered play across

the brightening lake. Speak to me
and I will listen inside you

for the deeply felt praise
behind your triggered fear.

Inspired by: Eminent, Insurmountable, Tenebrous and Chill.

outasight

i’m sitting with an eyepatch qualm
hoping the pain of light will

sink into the blossoming awareness
of my beloved lake. honking

erupts: geese depart or arrive.
i’m attuned to sound waves,

exquisitely woven by a silent
cast of sentience, all these unseen

beings. i carry yesterday’s scars:
tender cornea scratched by

an eager book shoved into my
eye, contrite child running for ice,

holding my hand, “it’s better now,”
invoking the power of intention.

all the saved podcasts treasures
just for today. i celebrate twists

and turns walking my highest path,
declare with joy behind the black

silk, surely amazing sights await
my newly opened gaze tomorrow.

Inspired by: sentience, qualm, slow, cast and a scratched (ow!) cornea.

Updating We Space

The world as we know it is fixed by the consciousness that perceives it. If you change the consciousness that perceives the world, we will realize that we are actually a constant updating process of the system that we live in. A human being is the translation of energy into structure. We are actually spirit becoming matter.~Thomas Huebl

Overnight change emerges full bloom—
not just the sudden chill that prompts

an online search for ways to warm my
morning space of heart-lake expansion.

I commit with zest to partner with my
life, walking the highest path. Illumined

by joy at my deep healing. Elusive
ethical corrections open to seeds

of potentiality landing in my fertile
soil. This is not some self-help new-age

wizardry, a five-year-plan for success.
New words are simmering and one day

we will converse in the florid flow
our new tribe-culture demands, the we

space of our relations in-forming what
really matters, fine-tuning energy

fluid now. In the lake a mallard male
leads two hens to the safety of bay

winding in until suddenly tall grasses
explode in preening ducklings, too

many wriggling bodies to count.
A pale-feathered molting drake zooms

to a beautifully plumed couple hidden
close to me. He menaces and blows

their cover, separates them, herding
the gorgeous nervous teal head to higher

ground, then they all eat, dabbling and I
am mystified by duck psychology.

My wonder engages. I don’t know.
I open my heart to this new connection.

Inspired by: Zest, Florid, Elusive and Partner. the first day after my DNA Potentiation, and this interview about climate change with Thomas Huebl.

What Is Fog?

Still infatuated by summer, huddled
in fleece jacket and blankets, piping

hot coffee, I’m in between and so
tingling with tomorrow’s initiation into

esoteric lore that I sprang from
sleep in the dark. I’m easing out

of political borders and national fervor
sliding into a global village web.

Dawn paints majestic
bright pink clouds as blue

sky announces the coming sun.
The lake ghosts spectral moving

westward as if summoned–not
a retreat from the power of east–

dancing columns rising reaching
like fingers of smoke. Oh, don’t

nag me with science. I’m all about
the soul right now. Here outside

the trance of modern life, taste
synchronicity, allow each significant

message to open me. Amidst
mystery, tasting cold on this

autumn porch. The light moves
me just as the dark

eases awareness into new
possibilities filtered out

by fear available now as I
fall in love with the portal

between night and day birds
assure my waking from my fog

Inspired by: Esoteric, Amidst, Infatuation, National and the Stream of Consciousness prompt to use -tast-. (And yesterday, my three-year-old grandson stopped me as I read an unfamiliar word and asked, “Bibi, what is fog?”)

Drift By My Window

why do you keep hoarding things if you cannot use them? it is autumn. treat old tools like leaves and you are the tree. shed them and keep being.~kiara

I come out of the house in fog
and jacket, pushed by the insanity

ruling inside closed boxes. An
insistent bird I’ve never heard

summons me to what is real. The media
never arrives at the lake. Well-

stocked and clean, host and besties
with plovers and egrets. Yesterday

in the woods, my grandson teaches
a binoculared birdwatcher bluejay

jeers. The real news is dictated
by the heart, never strikes terror–

dismissed milquetoast by the fear-
mongers. I teach empathy and reject

a gendered, even a specied god. Moved
to worship by being in all its faceted

glory. Space and light and energy.
Moving into stillness and back.

The attic is lined with boxed goods
I might need in some projected future.

The poplar is releasing gold
quivering leaves dancing free.

Today I choose to liberate old tools,
allow blessings to flow–gifts

for the next open-handed receiver
as I create a brand new now

leading into the unpredictable
alignment into empty space

finally able to move and stretch
and spin unhindered into joy.

Inspired by: Milquetoast, Insanity, Dictate and Yesterday, the amazing Universal 4 Month Toolkit from kiara at VKNumerology, and since it’s the first fall day here I am singing along with Eva Cassidy.  (Autumn Leaves is such a poignant song that always brings me such joy.  What an amazing voice!)

Home Remedies

Gratitude for this gourmand nitro
cold-brew doled out in tiny sips.

Alert for the neurostimulation
I can’t speak yet from this

pounding place where yesterday’s
choices still punish. Just a swallow

to create balance in a world
with so many blows. An osprey

dives from a spiral overhead
splashing into the waters

as if a guide advising: let go
of your fears and leap into

unknowns. Three turtle heads
form a triangle in the bay—I mis-

believe my eyes until they
pop back under. Three bluebirds

inspect the houses—please
winter with me. Tomorrow chills

will sweep through so here I am,
coffee and birds have scratched

my civilized veneer, legitimate
in this repressive state that outlaws

all the perception-openers.
The so-called exterior coaxes

the so-called interior to flow
like this breeze, this spring-fed

water, the plumes of tall grasses
and the trembling poplars. At dawn

the past was shaping my inevitable
unenviable future and me in tears,

queasy. Now arrives and new
sights and scents and sounds under

the glorious warmth of what is
surely a god directing what can

only be hymns of praise
from the gifted beings

swirling blessings we can all
receive, singing sweet or raucous

loud like the pair of bluejays
winging vivid into living air.

Inspired by: Gourmand, Scratch and Legitimate.