Opening in Rain

If humans are interconnected in such a way that one person’s awakening could be informing the rest of the species, then this could indicate that we are on track for a exponential awakening event of the kind that could transform us as a species overnight.~Caitlin Johnstone, The Humans Are Waking Up.

My roommates turn away from
the tristful morning, sighing over

the missing sun. I move to the
porch to repudiate the judgment,

not from some highfalutin
need to be right, it’s simply

great blue heron is watching
the wake where big bass

chased minnows to the surface.
I am conscious of wild

treasures, give thanks to hunted
and hunter, to watcher and

rain, slowing imperceptibly.
Snake glides in a vee across

the bay. Green heron perches
on the dock rails startling

nearly simultaneously as my
binoculared gaze touches.

Patches of fog dance dreamily
over the deep channels. I shift

from observer, ground myself,
sinking deep into the earth.

Dragon fire from the heartcore
pulses at the portal, awaiting

my express invite. Where you go,
mother, go I, inseparable,

your rooted daughter opening
now the door to the universe

flooding through my perception
of a skull. I give my breath

to this being
beyond grateful, holding wide

space beyond separation
that no longer serves.

Did it ever? Awareness spreads
something unknown leaps

and we all are touched
by the present ripples.

Inspired by Tristful, Highfalutin, Repudiate and Nearly. and this monthly meditation by Marko Pogacnik.

Can You Hear Me?

“If you talk to the animals they will talk with you and you will know each other.  If you do not talk to them you will not know them, and what you do not know you will fear.  What one fears one destroys.”      Chief Dan George

Ah, dear tricksters,

My spirit guides heard your ruckus,

pulling me out of my slumber

for a pre-dawn night-soil.

I didn’t know I was joining

your raucous gang; my storm-tight

windows filtered out your yipping

pleasure.  I’d asked for help and you

responded, the gang scattering scat

down the driveways, pavement piles

that caused consternation come day.

In ancient times, they celebrated your crafty

jokes, your roundabout wisdom.

Time to focus

when you appear, let go of worries

to receive laughter-infused gifts.

Seventeen twisted cigars placed perfectly

in the center, framed by white concrete.

Let go of worries and play, you say,

but the humans are calling and texting

fears of the natives in this country

they chose, deaf to even

the lugubrious howl

and blind to the blessings

parade sneaking past.

I’m so in love with your pranks,

your pal, the usurper behind the bricks.

 

Written for #OctPoWriMo Day 7 – Unsent Letters