Wherever Light Is

“Sunflowers end up facing the sun, but they go through a lot of dirt to find their way there.” ― J.R. Rim

“Bring me the sunflower crazed with the love of light.” – Eugenio Montale

In this interlude I’m grieving and breathe
when I can remember. The storm has passed
everywhere I turn signs of past debris
that must be cleaned. This working day will last

as paranormal sensitivity
summons your true heart to me through all space
lines are open your face I need to see
the tears welling I must allow, embrace.

Past daily codswallop ire-laced, fear-based
narrative-lies debase, we’re hypnotized
but surely waking to our rightful place
love stories flowing with a big surprise

Going to ground, moving this through, the way
is always messy, what emerges true
and ready for release. It rises–hey,
look at me in love the only way through.

Inspired by: Codswallop, Space, Paranormal and Interlude.

How We Matter

Now I see myself as I am
Feeling very free
Life is everything
Ooh it’s meant to be~James Pankow

For the first time last night I grilled chicken
juicy, delicious, served atop charred heart
of romaine. Here no longer sickening
as the world collapses. My brand new start

in the formula of quiet love: feel
precisely into each emotion, shout
and scream when moved, it’s not a silent deal.
I simply ground and center, inside out.

And joy replaces all the fear. It’s who
I am. Alive and thriving. I’ve survived
a decade of losing excrescence. Truth
is I’ve found I matter creating live.

Inspired by: Formula, Quiet  and Excrescence.

And this amazing cover of Chicago’s I’ve Been Searching For So Long by Leonid and friends.

What We Call The World

We take a handful of sand from the endless landscape of awareness around us and call that handful of sand the world. ~Robert M. Pirsig

I open to this new experience
though I feel fear. That’s just an artifact
from ruins. The sun’s intense, convinces
me to stay in love despite your intractable

stance, your clamoring–I project
this all so I can see you’re mirroring
what I once named toxic. Now I respect
what’s real when our triggers commence roaring.

Isn’t this life wild? Riding our passions
leads us to flow. We sing in joy and praise
the true foundation of our compassion
when we cease fighting and enjoy our days.

Nights we spend pondering constellations.
Planets hang low, the waxing moon unites
focused love. Put down the sky app. Listen
to harmony above.  Allow delights.

What Feeds Us Now

Keep it simple, deal with the Now. This Global reset is training us to trust the Presence within, and New Earth dynamics of consistent alignment with highest interests of all concerned.~Sandra Walter

How can I serve? Other than offering
mouthwatering cake in an ambience
designed to obliterate posturing.
Sit down, relax, at peace with common sense.

I can’t eat gluten. Sugar is my foe.
So what I’ll bake with patience, and dish up:
harmonic codes designed to feed the flow
of love, ringing. Just breathe right now. Link up.

Inspired by: Cake, Mouthwatering, Obliterate, Ambience and the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt Link.

Written to hold space for the collective shadow work the human race is currently undergoing.

Full Moon/Lunar Eclipse Prayer

The stars align today, frame the story
of protest as the fallen, filmed, gory
details like hooks sure to ensnare righteous
anger, impugn, blame oppressors’ quarry

What we resist persists, we fuel the flames
of symptoms as the corrupt core defames
our inner grace and balance, our power
compassion though the media proclaims

–I won’t repeat the lies. I’m here to say
love is the choice that we can make today.
As all the hidden darknesses emerge
I welcome and hold space for all I pray.

Inspired by; Frame, Protest, Impugn and Fallen.

There’s No Better You

We can’t stay in the moment when we fall into our trauma.~Anjet Sekkat

In this distressing space, hidden
voices in dark treetops anticipate
light. My feet curl and twitch,
transient visitors in fright,
searching for an exit.
Lurching benumbed.
My breath, a raider, sloshes through
venomed restraints rasping to
reach the bounty painted in treasure
maps. I would surely search better
yet here be gaps bespelled,
my wild and wonderful tactics
to repel dangersome monsters
lurking by my bed.
Would I have composed new
incantations had not school
curtailed my effortless creation?
Children arise
from your tiny desks and
spurious facts. Gaia demands
uncivilized bare feet dancing.
Teach us our feral ways
etched into genes, advancing
the wave of millennia. Life
wants to live in connection.
Throw off the beloved
critic, so carefully knitted
into our lonely self-
perception. Gently and soft
loving intently who we are
as we are magical and whole
even in our fragmented mirrors.
Here we are now
it’s clearer, to save the day.
There is no better way
to be.  Together, can we see?

Inspired by Slosh, Transient, Raider, Bounty and this photo that resurfaced from my childhood, topless here in a wizard dance with my favorite magical beings.


Your Grace

Orange and black butterfly teases
the breeze in a déjà vu loop

down-west to east-up mystery,
not a monarch. I open

the door, regret the reflected
flash in the fisher’s eyes.

What if every single thing
that dings my perception

is a miracle asking
for my thanks? What if

the offering I give
my sacred attention

is exactly what is
missing? I make free

of research and hypotheses
to prove. Release the idea

of traitor and treason to some
sovereign–painted lady–who has

carved wealth from my ancestors’
bones. Even this guitar,

pulling my fingers into old
patterns, calling my voice

to yesterday’s lyrics is new
in my embrace this morning.

I am in love
with my presents here now.

Every breath opens me
to new vistas eclipsing past.

I am supported by the wind
so light the ripples in the

grass can barely be seen,
but they bless me in this

guileless being, and changed,
we sing. Quietly, mindful

of the fishing heron’s dance,
poised like a priest at the altar

awaiting the congregation of
fishes to appear for their

sacramental blessing, a
visible form of grace.

Inspired by: Traitor, GuilelessResearch and the voice of my Ovation guitar–given as a birthday present 46 years ago–still bright and sonorous.