System Update

“Download” refers to the transmission that is felt when meditators from all over the world join together for a presencing meditation experienced through a global field.~Thomas Huebl.

My friends want to talk
about God. We preface and

disentangle religious dogma
while crows caw from treetops.

The poplar drops a golden leaf
into my cupped hands in the depths

of morning meditation. In the zone
every breath is a blessing and

more.  What is written has been
translated–and just one leap

from heart to tongue is a weight
that obscures each miracle.

The rain begins gently, like
a patient, playful teacher.

One cool drip in my thirsty skin.
There is an intelligence, high

and available presenting each insight.
We are distracted by everything.

Our way simply follows
the heart, discovers love

behind each bluster of ideological
confusion. Listen to the defenders

of muddled beliefs stuck on the
flypaper of awareness. Past the

logical fallibilities, the
unexamined premises, the sure

and rotting foundation–too tedious
to argue with a pebble in the shoe.

We stop, lean on each other to shake
out the tiny irritation. Our soul

speak is clear and continuous.
The global mind we create coheres

with each intentional moment.
We are surrounded by

mysteries. Abandon the calendar,
stop the clocks.  Study

the skies where stars we
have always been splinter

into a new reality we can’t know
with old-world tools.

Inspired by: Written, Pebble and Zone.

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Grounded and Electrified

Two red-tailed hawks arrive
perching on dock rails.

He is first.  She lands focused
on fish below, fierce pair

opening a portal on this strangely
cool August day where I’d been

wondering where summer has flown.
I abandon my civilized travel

list. I’ve been balancing, grounded
and electrified, expanding my field.

Each sight and scent clueing
endless ascension spirals

into authentic life. Since every word
is weighted, I struggle to lift

my message until these hunting
mates take flight as shadows

fall from a flock of noisy geese.
They watch from leafy tops,

treeing while I human.
My backpack is crammed, yet

the lovely lake insists on folding
this origami moment, silenced

songbirds, predators motionless
lonely poet-fumbling share

the ineffable slipping past
acerbic tongues, our

intentions afloat like trees
reaching across morning reflections.

Inspired by: Civilize, Authentic, Acerbic and Endless.

Grandson’s Gift

He flings himself into the grass,
eyebrows knit. I am so

sad. As his emotion moves me
I feel it, I say.  He glares,

It’s mine. You don’t feel it!
entering outrage and I

wake from my tight self-
containment. So many years

trying to remain inconspicuous
in the flood, building dams

and walls–so high–I’m still
tethered to the scene

of the crime. He clearly
doesn’t need my empathy, just

this empowered opening to dance
with the colors of his aliveness.

Watched now by all the obstinate
children in my lineage punished

for our own spirited being.
And just like that, he’s through

the spectrum and laughing with sheer
joy that heart sight yields in the

unobstructed waves of the truly free.
I’m pulled out of these old bones,

wrinkled skin plumping in this new
ringing space of love’s connection.

Inspired by: Inconspicuous, Wake, Knit and Obstinate.

Double Take

I think, therefore I am.~Rene Descartes.
In the stillness of my heart, I am.~Thomas Huebl

There are 10,000 thank yous
in my pliable heart today

spiraling in layers of waking,
calling me from the dreams.

It takes gumption to deny
the insidious cosmology

walking outside the rigid
boxes and Cartesian love

affair with the monkey mind.
When will science comprehend burps

signify the presence of ancestors,
that living trauma obstructs

our songs in the fields of
our being? When can we call a

dead stop to giggle
at duality, celebrate the belly

laugh that loosens the grip
of damnably right or humiliatingly

wrong? We become this mourning
dove surprised into flight

eye-catching, swirling air
across the lake. We recognize

each other. The plump and juicy
aloe plant vibrates the window.

We drip gratitude as we
breathe. The trees quiver.

Rocks hold deep programmable
space. Cicadas chirrup.

Light reaches into us all
in abundant, life-giving waves.

Inspired by: Giggle, Layer, Gumption and Pliable.

Musical Power

Everything jitterbugs…because it is the dynamic interplay between the positive and negative forces that gives rise to this dance of energy.~Eileen McKusick

As if lyrical joy illuminates

forgotten ways so simply

light could shift us, toning

colors seeping

into our fields of knowing.

Grief pulls us into

the gaping hole of sorrow

dark and repelled

as if ignoring it could

cleanse us from the dirt

clinging to our rooted

beings.  That fiery passion

ignites, declaring the moment of

union a magical integration

of all the fragmented

tunes collected

rejected

projected onto an audience

we’ve selected

for reasons we no longer recall.

The life song ringing our way

we stumble along

singing our emerging feelings

reaching for the high 

harmonies

we resonate with pure love.

Inspired by Eileen Day McKusick’s work in healing with vibrational sound therapy and written for Sammi Cox’s weekend writing prompt: Song in 102 words.

Yes, and…

The young kayakers circle the island,
eyeing the strange fishermen silently
casting. Ripples in the lake reach
me watching from the connected
shore. Who can say who belongs
here? I can no longer continue
my previous life.
It lies broken.
The lies broke my careful
façade. I find I must insert
the cedilla to ensure softness.
Sounds instruct.

Clueless kayakers approach,
bright orange flashing paddles
the quiet. The old fishers turn
their backs and plop their bait.
These kids, confused and
territorial, righteous and curious,
make their lake-round.
They do not wave to me,
seem oblivious to the swooping
plover. Splashing with a
settler’s proprietary ardor.

Words conduct a symphony
of meaning, impose order
on the chaos of now.
Assembling the anomalies,
escorting them—all squares
who can’t fit into roundness—
off the premises. And we of
circling natures feel the slam
into each corner, trying
to pretend we’re sound.

At last we heed the stream
of messages. The world rights
itself in our new vision.
Inclusive hearts open
as we step out of the
shards of shells containing
our un-grokked past. Ignoring the false
future beckoning madly,
we simply breathe
in this new place.
Yes, embracing now.

Inspired by:  Continue, Previous and Broken.

Daily Practice

Today the brood of unruly
bluebirds just might transition
to the sky. Especially
the largest, who steps over
his siblings to call out
entreaties and demands,
filling the round hole,
blocking the only source
of light.

I practice moving
to the center, each childish
facet a reminder of where
I’ve been. The uneasy
insight that something’s not
right snipped before fully
flowering. And now,
years later, a random prompt
like the illuminating sun.

I shift out of the calendar
of days and these relentless
minutes. There are places
that I touch, trembling,
awaiting, alive
outside of history.
When I bend that linear rule
and step into
what needs to be healed
the morning silences.
A crow caws thrice.
I am here.
I count.

Inspired by: Brood, Snip, Random and Transition.