And yet, I can

Half of the bay is iced,
a line straight from shore to shore.

Rippling bright cold on that side.
Frozen still by me.

Last night’s clouds covered the full
moon trying to cleanse crystals

stargazing on my window seat.
The architect of my dreams

is always me. The plight awakening
my soul held for ransom

by these tiny trauma places
obstructing my energy flow.

Ducks dabble at the edge,
perhaps flirting with danger under

this new boundary. Heads pop
up in the ceaseless current.

I’m diving into my inner self
worth, seizing each block

curling my feet and clenching
my hands. Signals to my wise

now—heal me! Love me!
All this young reaching out

turned inward to comfort
a broken heart. You’re not

good enough my poisoned
talisman, intelligent protection.

You’re too much. Truth will not
be received well, not here.

Shut up and survive.
Clutch this imperative: you can’t.

Inspired by: Can, Architect, Plight and Ransom.

Just popped in at the halfway point to say, I miss you, fellow daily writers! The writing is flowing like music, thanks to Lisa Cron’s amazing book, Story Genius: How To Use Brain Science To Go Beyond Outlining And Write A Riveting Novel* [Before You Wasted Three Years Writing 327 Pages That Go Nowhere.] (It works! Yesterday my word count was 38,646 out of my goal of 50K by the end of November!)

Updating We Space

The world as we know it is fixed by the consciousness that perceives it. If you change the consciousness that perceives the world, we will realize that we are actually a constant updating process of the system that we live in. A human being is the translation of energy into structure. We are actually spirit becoming matter.~Thomas Huebl

Overnight change emerges full bloom—
not just the sudden chill that prompts

an online search for ways to warm my
morning space of heart-lake expansion.

I commit with zest to partner with my
life, walking the highest path. Illumined

by joy at my deep healing. Elusive
ethical corrections open to seeds

of potentiality landing in my fertile
soil. This is not some self-help new-age

wizardry, a five-year-plan for success.
New words are simmering and one day

we will converse in the florid flow
our new tribe-culture demands, the we

space of our relations in-forming what
really matters, fine-tuning energy

fluid now. In the lake a mallard male
leads two hens to the safety of bay

winding in until suddenly tall grasses
explode in preening ducklings, too

many wriggling bodies to count.
A pale-feathered molting drake zooms

to a beautifully plumed couple hidden
close to me. He menaces and blows

their cover, separates them, herding
the gorgeous nervous teal head to higher

ground, then they all eat, dabbling and I
am mystified by duck psychology.

My wonder engages. I don’t know.
I open my heart to this new connection.

Inspired by: Zest, Florid, Elusive and Partner. the first day after my DNA Potentiation, and this interview about climate change with Thomas Huebl.