Finding Breath

Where do I fight my experience?  Can I stop and say, this is what it is right now, and can I stay with it?~Anjet Sakkat

The I shoulds interrupt sleep
and so I rise, longing for deep
sweet breath, not this jerky ragged
approach to death. Bedraggled,
I resist the medicine
that covers and masks what is.
There is a gift to explore
a pattern in my core
though I would much rather
tickle a slick dance, gather
all my worries and doubts
undeserved love hideouts
throw them out labeled wrong
as if my birth does not guarantee
I belong. How can I soften?
The key to love these tired
eyes, this chest contracted.
My allies present the path
I so resent. And so I feel
the earth below my feet, real
and grounded, here I am
calm, watching the gentle
lift of diaphragm.

Inspired by: Undeserved, Slick, Tickle and Explore.

Got A Minute?

I began the day floundering,
what can I say, dear reader?
The path laid out by our leaders
nay-say disinformation leading
to war, that’s not what I’ve
come to this lovely planet for.
I’m swamped, even in my dreams
putrid water flooding and infecting
streams. Can I do nothing?
Suspense is thrilling. Still I can
choose the way, not killing
is an option! I am swayed
by joy and love and you,
moved to tears by what is
offered in lieu
of fears. One minute sitting
in a sacred space. Meeting
another’s eyes, no words,
just grace. This is the time
we have chosen to grow
on this green and blue place
we’re needed, heeded, love is
seeded when we finally
declare: I belong. My voice
my song. I am right
here. Words simple and clear:
I offer my heart.
This is how the changes start.

Soundcloud recording here.

Inspired by Suspense, Nothing, Swamped and Flounder.

Wanna spend one beautiful minute filled with love and joy connecting with another being somewhere on this planet?  Try it free at human online. Blessings and aloha!

My Voice Creates

Be specific enough to go to the root.~Thomas Huebl

I’ve played this game before, the doctors scratching
heads bewildered, grab the constellation
of symptoms and a label, ratcheting
up the fear–there is no cure, but we
have drugs, and off we go, action-
packed, ready to do whatever it takes except
looking within to find the root.
We are compelled to make sense, to gather
disparate pieces and hide the dissonance
–we’ll call it vaping illness or I’ve got it
covid-19, use fear to isolate the willing
people. Don’t want to kill
your families? The only way is stay
away, like magic, primary resources
out of reach. How can you object?
Better safe than sorry. The economy’s
collapsed, we have a new war, this
mysterious virus that no one can test.
Our grief and agony leads to distraction.
Got any Netflix recs or can you share
your Hulu password? In reaction to
my pain contraction, triggered by the
rigged disinformation that passes
for elucidation, onslaught
I’m not buying in. Like the economy
I’m broke. Did I mention I’ve been
down this road before? It took me
years to ask for more,
to realize the doctors had no clue,
to understand I am compelled
bespelled, inquiry quelled
by my desire to be fixed
and make it quick. Go out for a pass
stay in the game, chasing power
and head-fakes, what cannot be tackled
outside. What we resist persists.
Now is the opportunity we’re granted
to turn our attention, we’ve ranted
and raged against the machine
listed all the overhauls we need
when all the while the symphony
embracing humanity’s plight
with sheer delight. Listen:
we laugh we scream we live
we die we breathe we choke
we dance we scheme.
Pull the curtain, now the wizard
is exposed, we know
deep in our hearts
this is no dream.
Wake up! Come into now.
Embody and allow
our shadows surprising
uprising, and we’ve this golden
chance to sit, welcome what is
if we can brave the waves
of fear we hold so dear.

Soundcloud recording here.

Written for Overhaul, Pass, Looking Within, Isolation and the Stream of Consciousness prompt Welcome.  Once again, the SOCS prompt never wants me to stop, leads me to places where my editing fingers plead, but that, my friends, is against the rules.  And we must all follow the rules.  

There is a free event today at 3:00 p.m. ET, a one-hour Zoom meeting with Thomas Huebl regarding the coronavirus.  You are warmly welcome to join me!

From These Trenches

Use this crisis as an opportunity to deepen your understanding of how profoundly interconnected we all are. Respond to it by upgrading the way you take care of yourself, the people you love, and our natural world.~Rob Breszny

Today at four we’ll send more
blessings to the ones on the front
lines at grocery stores clean
the homeless and the poor
hospital workers in their useless
gear. Our fear outweighs sense,
handing over all our power
a patriot act—we’ve done this
before, hyped like a tiny
unprotected child to run around
in panic when we should be
dancing. Finally we see the evil
of economic sanctions—only a taste
barely perceived in our great waste.
The media drums nasty vibes
of China, focused on blame
so we don’t name
government-subsidized capitalism
is corporate socialism.
Assange who published the truth
locked in a prison languishing.
All of this anguish is getting hard
to hold. We’ve gotta open up our
hearts in connected space.
Bold step. This is the chance to level up
the human race. All the collective
trauma hidden rises up. We face
our greatest fears. Uncomfortably
settled on the bones of innocents.
In tears, we look at where our
money’s spent. So many fakes
and tricks, and as this is the
day of limericks, mine goes like so:
There once was a woman of peace
who shipped a moment’s relief:
just be one with the fear
though it might feel queer
when asked, reveal your receipts.

Soundcloud recording here.

Inspired by Ship, Child, Limerick and Clean.

At 4:00 p.m. ET today, we’re all invited to sit in meditation for 45 minutes and direct blessings to healthcare workers in what Thomas Huebl calls the download meditation (participants globally join in.)

Featured image taken in Seoul, South Korea at the Jogyesa Temple is a 450-year-old Chinese scholar tree.  May each of us visit an ancient tree today (commune with this one if you’re in lockdown)!

Also here’s an invitation to join in a free Thomas Huebl-led collective response to the pandemic by Zoom this Saturday.

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.

A Thousand Miles Begins

Only when I walk forever, I have time for now and for you.~Thomas Huebl.

Like a curious time traveller
I arrive into the tribal
village, shaking my rain-
laden hair, blurring the ink
on these cryptic pages.
What is precise is
beyond words. Still, we
chant by campfire. Now
is true love peering
a surprised town crier.

Swimming an electric river
every atom buzzing, aquiver.
Forget the clock claiming
it’s time to scream, 3 a.m.
and nothing to do, only
to be aware of the false lonely.
Attempts to demarcate are made
afraid. This journey, a cascade,
is our masterpiece, ringing,
each essential voice singing

in our own key, a symphony
with all that should be
swirling through the fear
sometimes welcome here.
Allowing what is essential
to burn in this ancestral
fire’s focused laser weaving
lessons of millennia believing
us like chained sleepwalking bells
pulling sounds of now into our cells.

Inspired by: the palindromic date 02022020, Tribal, Journey, Masterpiece and Demarcate. And the song 3 a.m. by Matchbox Twenty since my poem emerged when the clock showed 3. And Lao Tzu’s, “the journey of a thousand miles begins beneath one’s feet.”

Sound recording here.

Money For Old Rope

The path to crisis is boulder-
strewn difficult. One must
strenuously avoid the
temptation to do nothing–
that is, they say, when evil
triumphs. Beware any
chance to sit in silence
clear the inner murmuration
of starling-thoughts flying
intricate patterns of karmic
misperceptions. Try and try
again! Do! Move like a murder
of crows as the tempest
feeds on your panicked
activity. Onward, to the
breaking point! Trouble looms
and brewers, we foment
with such good intent, and yet,
our trajectile initiates from
hate, the very rules we seek
to dismantle. This is more than
we can handle.

We set down
the old-world tools
curious, unsighted
to receive what now
has newly lighted.

Inspired by: Triumph, Crisis, Nothing, Temptation and this photo taken in 1890 of my great-great grandfather visiting his son in Colorado.  Do we carry the old ways in our genes, or do they carry us on a wave of preconceptions?

Soundcloud recording here.