Approaching Lavender

“If you’d like to try your hand at understanding lavender, then you must be very sure that life is not a game.~Gordon Lightfoot

I’m not interested in yonder trigger
manipulated to feel avarice
a power grab comes up empty; I’ve lost
all the things. What remains, what I cherish
and hold high sings focus, energy, pure
insightful creativity. How may
I be of service? In nature under
trees, I plant medicinal herbs, fragrant
flowers to delight the eyes, lure butterflies
shifting the tale beyond all words, I
reach into the ether where your boundaries
are a game, play on in the world whirled and
tossed by insurgent aims, you fight yourself
while I maintain divine neutrality
calm, joyful where you’ve already joined me.

Inspired by: Yonder, Cherish, Insurgent and Avarice.

Nature’s Privilege

Birdsong glory-listening this morning
front porch, choosing love, calling to mourning
doves, our hearts aflame and voices tender
soft–magic–daily practice aborning

it’s like a wizards’ school, cue each other
special powers granted by earth mother
we face our anger and our fears with light
touches and words, deep presence gifts t’other

we clean the places we call home, we send
such strong assurance, blessed by nature, mend
the broken bridges. We cannot inure
we open to delight in the twist-end.

He’s four and powerful, his spirals drawn
and golden suns with green rays, oh, praise dawn
when with a light touch he urges me, wake,
our teachers gather, come before they’re gone!

Inspired by Golden, Inure, Twist and Privilege.

Featured image drawn by my four-year-old grandson this morning. “The Sun.”

The Rising Song

Water has a memory and carries within it our thoughts and prayers. As you yourself are water, no matter where you are, your prayers will be carried to the rest of the world.~Masaru Emoto

The mellifluous day flows lovely rhymes
through discordant notes intelligence chimes

I expand to include though I don’t splash
in the shallow places where chaos grimes

clarity. Only tell me: I’m so scared,
I’ll meet you in pure presence waters where

we are sanctified by prayer. My love
we arrive to choose this ascending stair

or wallow deaf and blind gossamer clutch
the dark web’s insubstantial weaving such

panicked heft. You cannot bring your fear
or any of the heavy things that smutch

our divine crystalline nature birthing
words dipped in love, transmitting light, earth-ing.

This is the acid test. The shortcut waves
beg you to receive. You turn away. Dearth

plods through joy with muddy feet destined to
grieve as all you have is taken, blessed and

desperation fuels unholy. Release.
Let go. Love overflows if you but rest!

Ah, how I long to bring you in my stream
yet now it’s clear our paths are each unique.

The role you play I cannot understand.
After last night’s storming, liquid’s agleam

washed and cleansed, my soul’s intention I claim
these sacred waters that I bless and name

avail abundance, teach me to receive.
My vessel rises: sovereignty’s the game.

Inspired by: Acid, Gossamer, Heft and Shortcut.

Featured image of three herons escorting each other through last night’s storm.

In my new resolve to clean up my transmission, soundcloud recordings are paused for a while while I learn how to create my own beats in 432 HZ.  I am committed to fuel only the highest trajectory Now.

To The Sacred Grove

I look backward at the convoluted path which spiraled me to this place
and I pledge to
patiently, precise,
clean the confusing energies
the hate, the grief, the pain, the suffering poured out unclaimed
which may be fueling another’s dance.

I am holding icebergs of ancestral, societal and galactic trauma
I bring as gifts
in the deep presence of now
letting my attentive love release the frozen energies
allowing miracles
of inspiration,

light dripping and flowing
always the presence of light…

Today as I bring my new birthing self
I acknowledge you live in me
your touch may be as light as moonbeams through a window
or a fiery furnace
this light of our intentional coherence
we breathe into being
right now

I bring my intention and commitment
as we begin the long and arduous journey.
I bring my tools and wisdom, my love of song and rhyme
as we conduct new symphonies out of time.

I claim my sacred being includes you and yours includes me.

I claim each moment in this unfolding now
the opening door
the fertile ground

I claim myself the sovereign seed
I root in the immensity
I reach for the stars
and I flourish in the air

Recognizing the poisons and the systems and the Nefarious Other
are birthed in me.
Reclaiming all of the parts that have been hated and despised
bringing them into the sacred grove.

I proclaim that in the space of we, the light flows unimpeded,
celebrated, energizing and inspiring, the source that joyfully runs us

undepleted sacred divine we
unique essential expressions of one love
the stream that nourishes
the web that connects
the jewels of Indra’s Net,
revealing the illusions of separation
dissolve in our intentional life as a grove.

 

May Day, May Day

When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the universe. One fancies a heart like our own must be beating in every crystal and cell, and we feel like stopping to speak to the plants and animals as friendly fellow mountaineers. ~ John Muir

Check your assumptions at the door
lest you bewitch us
working overtime to feed the draining store
designed to inundate, malicious
and pernicious seizure
of abundance, leisure
releasing that story
heals as we are met
here at the threshold
dissolving debt, we claim
our worth, rename our energetic
focus the new currency,
all hocus pocus now revealed
and we can see the false duality
falling away in truth
we play.

Inspired by: Bewitch, Overtime and Inundated.

 

We Who Rise, Illumined

“We’ll know our disinformation program is complete when everything the American public believes is false.”~William J. Casey

The new me emerges courageous
from the deep where we presence

our roots. In quiet, commonsense
reveals the fabrications false science

weaves to muffle innate knowledge
self-healing nature I acknowledge

we are divine
our brilliance shines

love sets us free
when we can dare to say:

I am holy.
As are we.

Inspired by: Express, Normal, Tagged, Elixir and Validate.

And by this poem by Rainer Marie Rilke:
The Blessing of Earth

God, every night is hard.
Always there are some awake,
who turn, turn, and do not find you.
Don’t you hear them crying out
as they go farther and farther down?
Surely you hear them weep; for they are weeping.

I seek you, because they are passing
right by my door. Whom should I turn to,
if not the one whose darkness
is darker than night, the only one
who keeps vigil with no candle,
and is not afraid—
the deep one, whose being I trust,
for it breaks through the earth into trees,
and rises,
when I bow my head,
faint as a fragrance
from the soil.

Only Love Is Real

You don’t love hatred and evil, of course. You have to practice and see the real gull, the good in every one of them, and to help them see it in themselves. That’s what I mean by love.~Richard Bach, Jonathan Living Seagull

We burst into the world wet
and splutteringly vibrant

rage at the seeming separation
hunger a tyrant, magic flows

like breath, we coo, know
strangers bending over our

strange faces, power held
precious if we’re lucky and

our parents’ trauma isn’t triggered
in an endless cycle of war

unheard unheld until illusions
shatter once we’re all exploring matter

and how we in formation
create. Deep communication space

we choose to compose, call
songs of intention, offering love

we turn and face our greatest fears
ignite what burns slow, impossible

to quench. This beauty is real,
illusions fade and what awakes

the human race in love
we all set sail.

 

So this is love

Invisible footprints sizzle.
Intentions magnetize a trace
of you impalpable and pure
magic. Charmed I slow
my pace. Disarmed
and vulnerable at last.
Spring tendrils
curling past
my now implacable uprising
beyond my senses
gentle surprising real
love-song crystals
spilling into sacred space.

Inspired by the dversepoet prompt 100: a quadrille (44 words) celebrating magic and love and spring.  And the power of shifting the narrative.

Featured image credit.

Exponential Leap

The moving walkway is coming to an end.  Please watch your step.~Recorded airport announcement

Your evanescent dreams disappear
as if the iteration of you

dancing into this space fears
to be seen, not enough, untrue,

just wrong. As if you need
an alteration to fit the story

modify your heartbeat
because the rap of history

spit relentless by affluent
victors with strong prospects

collected from your half-ruined
hopes, distracted you expect

linear like stepping onto
the moving walkway, carried

in a fog as we’re all drawn to
the tales we live and breathe.

Today right now opens night
songs and sheer poetry

this field of pulsing light
resting, held in dark mystery

we finally celebrate.
Take care. The world’s in flux.

Don’t take the bait,
the lure of hate; it’s love

that powers the new plan
together we connect

and span the living bridge
the time and space open our range

hearts full of bars
we sing in perfect pitch

earth-rooted, heads in stars
a song praising our change.

Inspired by: History, Evanescent, Affluent and Prospect.

 

Saved By The Bird

Bluejay scree-jeer from deep

in the oak has been

guiding my daily walks, unseen.

But today, as I consider

love by the silent lake,

her mate answers

three fierce bursts

a red-shouldered hawk mimicry.

And at last he’s revealed

flying to her leafy cover,

framed in blue-feathered flit

of blazing urgency.

See me.

This is how we emerge,

shaking off the dark

dreams hypnotizing our dread.

Calling to each other from the green.

We arise from the captive seats

fronting the flimsy platform,

its shaky construction revealed,

the shoddy actors flinching from

our bright seeing.  The dominoes

— so long to set up —

in the blink of an eye

falling

like fear

when love finally

embraces the shadows.

The doomsday invitation

flutters to the ground.

We grind it into dust, compost

for the rich soil

of our transformation.

Love’s the catalyst

breaking open the rugged terrain

of this perilous paradigm.

Changing the channel

at last, we heed

these seeds

planted at birth

flourishing

even while the moonlit

nightmares handcuffed

and blindfolded our hope.

They can’t hold us,

they never could.

We open our hearts

and sing to our fellow dreamers.

 

Written for #OctPoWriMo Day 8, Love. And inspired by Moonlit, Rugged, and Silent