Floral Lore

I lionize the last buds of autumn
like them, I’m bursting to unfold in now
expansive, flowing in the skyclock hums
beyond extraneous constructs—kapow—

revealed time shrivels, rooted in the lies
and energy, coerced, we gave.  No more.  
I aggravate the status quo, surprise
the world, create exquisite bloom rapport.

Inspired by: Aggravate, Bud, Extraneous and Lionize.


A spiritual practice is a generator of light. The light needs to come in on all levels.  We need to ask: where do I clearly say, it is happening “out there”?  We all create the world.~Thomas Huebl

I feel inspired to listen
to the song of yesterday, the light
spilling into cracks, exposing
me in new and startling ways
of being. I cannot hear those words
again, they will arrive anew as
sun and gentle rain, each moment
of spring leaping to luxuriance
the bursting bud a lead-in, once upon a time
in the narrative shift
and I am fluid
as I’ve always been
seeping through my self-made
traps through deep karmic shade.
I arrive belonging.
I bloom essential.
I sing and sing and sing
and if my voice reaches
dark places I’ve planted
in you, I bring light
I am a prayer
in the connected field
right now
this step
now this
the way love reveals.


Echoes Of The Future*

What is the part of me that calls me onto a path?  I believe the part that calls us is the echo of the memory of the future–the reverberation of remembering the future.~Thomas Huebl

The child has learned
to be taciturn.
What can you expect
when the means to correct
her are myriad and cruel?
Enter the Yule.
Does she dare to hope
a little gift will help her cope?

Pain’s duration
is no aberration.
Satellites have filled the skies
with starry lies.
The ground has all been paved.
Have you been saved?
The father asks, her yes
coerced, professed;
the no submerged
unheard yet I am opening
the door, focusing
light in this dark place.
Ah, child, when I wore that face!
Listen, darling, to the calling.
Time itself is falling.

Inspired by: Yule, Expect, Taciturn and Duration and this amazing talk by Thomas Hubl, The Echo Of The Memory Of The Future*.


The Time Is Now

The calendar of days marching
you lockstep,
triumphal arch
built by minutes–you’re stuck in it–
you schlep,
guided by those ticking hands,
a creature clocked
in some belated way
you understand.

I’m asking you to sit
outside of time
I invoke the higher powers
dazzle you with rhyme
that doesn’t fit
into the scheme
yet flourishes inside
your vivid dreams.

This address we inhabit
our unique code
is as flexible as agate
–say it isn’t so,
say that a stone
holds clear and deep
in a way we can’t perceive
much less believe.
Much like the trees or
any other matter
that bes.

With just one word, we stop short.
It jars us
from the normal retort.
We open now,
where we’re contracted
frightened by the ones
we call bad actors.
Expanding here
our breath the start
allowing what emerges
heart to heart.

Inspired by: Invoke, Address, Flourish and Belated. And that bright full moon this morning (12/12) at 12:12 (which led me to think about all the constraints of time!) And a magical conversation with Erin Heart Woman.