Look Up, Check In

Happy Day of Universal Peace and Galactic Freedom

This is a beautiful place, magical
bird messengers cajole the breeze. Solar
gifts are streaming down, sun gazing eyeful
I’m beside myself moving in pure flow

when I uncouple now from time’s driving
check in with my future self, this discrete
being an illusion, all that striving
just a game. Breathe in and out. Now repeat.

Inspired by: Magical, Cajole, Discrete, Driving and the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt: check/cheque/Czech.

Repeat After Me: Freedom, Freedom

Your power is in divine neutrality.  Be calm, meditate.  Focus on the light.  Ignore the puppet show.  Worry energizes the lower agendas.  Words are power.  What you speak Creates.  Be aligned and examine the words.  Express the higher light.  Hold the balance so we can unfold with ease and grace.  If you want to get on board, jump on now.  Redesign.” ~Sandra Walter.

A robin bold and busy arrives. A green heron
flies in and melts into the shore while
the house sparrow scolds in a tuneless repetition.
The morning is quiet when it leaves

oh, there are other sounds. The red-winged blackbirds
abrupt-trill dive, their forsythia nest hidden deep.
The swallow watches, filling up the birdbox hole.
The Carolina chickadee tiny and unobtrusive slips

imperceptible in the periphery
of my attention. In my brief glance
a goldfinch and an oriole pause
to acknowledge my presence.

In the background rumble the deep
indistinct voices I called difficulties
before I learned to place them with sacred
love on the high altar, over and over.

I cannot solve this from the mind
that created these difficulties. And yes,
I claim them: Mine! Spun of cotton candy,
energized by my worry, I leave them

in the open air, the light, the rain
to their fate. Bless courage and faith
and when I lift my pen and gaze
a hummingbird arrives to drink and fill

outside of time in the simultaneous now
that every word disturbs though my intent
remains to enter the next level of my awakening
which is to say, our own birthing in now.

Inspired by a meditative morning and the wild expansion the entire planet is experiencing right now.  

Blessings and aloha.  Be safe.

Mystery Calls

What is greatest in our existence, what makes it precious beyond words, has the modesty to use sorrow in order to penetrate our soul.~Rainer Maria Rilke

Late afternoon glade peering into deep
shadows, called by the wounded cat across
the lake. Surprise zygodactylous feet
as a yellow-bellied sapsucker hops

drumming the sacred, opening heart til
the watcher is revealed. Some tiny sign
in our conjoined field signals human shrill
and off we go, one flying sweet and fine

one trodding on the path transformed, refreshed
by this quick lesson out of time. Present
I surrender, my heart’s intent enmeshed:
together we transmute joy from lament.


Inspired by:  Refresh and Surrender and an industrious yellow-bellied sapsucker. The birds on the lake are showing up in force to bring me to the next level of my awakening.

The gorgeous photograph featured here is from dirtdoctor.co

By Any Other Name

Green heron, shy, lovely, not green

red and gray and blue, white

and yellow, huddled now like a shore

rock, while mourning doves flutter

and half-step, red-winged blackbirds

kiss in midair, swallows dive and orioles

sing orange from behind green leaves.

Still and patient, solitude

alert amid the dance in the air

watching too the flickers underwater

spelling us all into forgetfulness

with all of that unmoving

does my awareness touch 

your sinking deeper into the tall

grasses, not here, shhh, all

the disjointed improbable colors

gentle-blended into the quiet waiting.

Each of us, uniquely qualified

step into the role of our lifetimes

being here now with loving hearts.

Inspired by a patient, shy green heron.

Featured image found here.


The legendary diving ducks return
to pluck limicolous beings from
winter nests. Kind numinous
as they shift the lake into

balance. Today it is possible
to count them even as their black
and white heads disappear below
the surface. I have been watching

the lake for their miraculous
arrival, sliding in pairs at dusk
until morning celebration as
they pause their migration.

–I can no longer tolerate
the daze of the deliriant
daily injection designed to suck
my energy, drive my attention–

More ducks arrive, butterballs small
and swift as with an ancient sign–
Do Drop In–the essential
marginalized communities survive,
their predicament–shrinking habitats
still they appear like musical notes
their henotic tune, awake!
we’re all in this together.
Featured image credit.

For those who can’t access Foyle’s Philavery:

limicolous: living in mud

numinous: awe-inspiring, evoking a spiritual response; inducing a sense of a deity’s presence

malversation: corrupt behavior in a position of trust; corrupt administration, especially of public funds

ephectic: suspending judgment, skeptical

deliriant: a poison that causes persistent delirium or mental aberration

henotic: promoting harmony; unifying; irenic

Beyond Knowing

I’m pulling out of a station
I used to label, smug and stuck.

An array of potions, amping up
liquids while my nose, red and

raw, seeps with deep healing.
Eyes on the great blue heron,

unseen for weeks. He’s poised
on my periphery, just on the edge

of sight, so I lean slowly.
Camouflaged at the threshold

of brown grasses, dirty white
riprap and trees still greening

the water. He creeps out of sight.
I must adjust my chair to

track, sneezing behind windows.
A spider in her web, waiting,

or a specter stumbling across
realities, a danger in every

sense. Morning sun kissing lake:
how green the blue. He turns

to step directly into his
shadow, the way of all healing,

graceful in his necessary poise.
I’m watching like these waters,

shimmering and simmering from
currents far below the still air.

Inspired by Stumble, Spider, Specter and How Green Is Blue.

What Blooms

To celebrate ten years, he sends
living pieces of his island

far across the ocean. Orchids, white
and purple, orange birds of paradise

and green bird leaves, heliconia
and ginger, white anthuriums,

ti leaves and calathera, hala
and banana leaves, outrageous

extravagance for my simple
frugal life here on the mainland.

While I’m arranging flowers, a great
blue heron fishes the rocks right

outside my door, views access
to the porch an antagonistic

move and so I grant him
clemency, standing shadowed

in this blooming box. All around
me, the library crumbles

dust disintegrating bindings
and words leaking out into

the fragrant air. All the knowledge
I’ve garnered needs a good

solid cleaning out. A mourning
dove flutters then slides to the

grass. Surely I know nothing.
Poised silent watcher

teaching sliding into me whether
I will or no, and I doubt

he has ever anguished over
his place in this delicate and fragile

ecosystem. I move, he rises
scolding—will I ever learn

with all these bold gestures
and careless taking without

ever paying a true cost?
The very idea hidden

in too many layers
to peel, I say,

rushing to my
next important distraction.

Inspired by: Clemency, Library, Antagonistic and Garnered.

The Essential Dive

Double-crested cormorant gold bill pointed
skyward before you dive, I’m already

missing you. Native in three realms
at least, and I’m queasy here

on the porch, just in time to heed you
knowing to go deep today, into

the fundamental roots anchoring
my mistakes. Yesterday I stretched

far past my former limits
seeking to duplicate my youth, perhaps.

In the tenuous now I’m tremulous
as the earth shifts beneath me.

I’m longing for the easy paddle
through the surface. My hunger

dissipated, dehydrated, headachy
with clouds of pain and sorrow,

even the sun brightening above
is too much, though I’m still here.

In the deep night, summoned by the
moon, I tried to see the hole

of my absence through the years,
to know my worth through casual

eyes of friends and family, immersed
in their own trials, appearing

distant in the false narrative
of separation. Listen, I know well

the claw that raked through me
unsettling to the depths I avoid

brought all this surfacing, my grip
holding the wriggling essential

truths of my existence like the morning
catch. And though I imagine letting

go, life keeps me holding on and
rising, dripping, from the dark

places, flying to the top of this
nearby tree. What feeds me emerges

infusing every molecule of stardust.
Eyes closed, I swear

a bird I’ve never heard is
chirruping, insistent, my name.

Inspired by: Duplicate, Missing, Fundamental and Native and a very hard 24 hours.

Choose The Updraft

Nothing disturbs my practice because everything is it.~Thomas Huebl

Someone unseen is wielding a chain
saw. The whine from the wood

ceases abruptly and my head is
up, searching the unlikely silence.

Alert. A sound can instigate
time travel, echoing back through

a family schism, my brother’s blood
the star. Feeling past the overlay

of legend into the constellation
of us spinning through space.

He lifts his hand from his bright-
red mouth. My mother faints.

Right now a white plane rumbles
chased by three black crows.

I learned to tell stories
of the places too horror-filled

to feel, moving in to do the
right thing, emotions firmly

reined. They quiver here,
stallions ready to burst

from the hidden stables.
Narrating my brothers’ traumas

watchful and alarmed, I could not
claim them as my own, a gracious

hostess stepping back into shadows
as the play climaxes.

This human experience is utterly
unlike what I’ve been

told, what my focus revealed.
All the jigsaw pieces rammed

together in a childish dabble
gently ease apart today.

Two kingfishers rattle in. One claims
the dock as the other retreats so loudly

a green heron rises, gracefully
seeking the furthest silent shore.

Inspired by: Instigate, Schism, Dabble and Unlikely and memories of the chainsaw incident, when my brother slipped from the tree he was sawing and came home with a mouthful of blood and an urgent need for medical care.

Lost In Space

Green heron preens with blue-gray
bill, orange foot scratching white

chest overlooking the freshly stocked
lake-larder. Killdeer claims the black

tarmacadam, feigning injury.
Cardinal’s red flash fleeting past.

Clouds gather unobtrusively
for the afternoon surprise

with thunderous flair. My cup
is dry, my plate empty. And still

I hesitate in this fluttering.
Instantly seven swallows swoop,

the green heron croaks her warning.
I turn my head for the wren’s spray

of notes, liquid, mellifluous.
When I look back, they’ve all vanished,

end of Act One, the lessons I need
played out before me. A how-to

defend boundaries, strong nos
in living color as I sit with coffee

and pen. My filters and expectations
pushing extraneous ink to

protect me from the dizzying
freefall of now until there are

no words and
I’m in it.

Inspired by: Hesitate, Flair, Extraneous and Spray.