The Connection

In my utter depths

a door flung wide

always merging

with the cosmic heart.

We pulse together

in silent space

so overwhelmingly large

so microscopically minuscule

I misplace

the way

up here

in the outer limits

where clouds or fog

or thick smoke obscures

my seeing

listen

the cries of anguish

at the brink of the abyss

where the tide rolls in fists

of shells and rocks and timber

with unerring aim

a riptide

I’m resisting

panicked until I’m hurled

onto sand scraping

mad for air.  I catalogue

these injustices, swear

vengeance, give you

stinkeye

cut you out of my life

with cold insouciance.

Sensational separations

ebb and flow.

Fingers fight for dominance

in a hand that has declared

autonomy and names opponents

masterminding their gory demise.

Drama, drama, drama.

I return to the breath,

my heart opening leads me

out of the shallows

immersed now in our

continuous connection.

Written for the #OctPoWriMo Day 25 Prompt: The door opens both ways, and inspired by gory, and opponent

Barking Up The Wrong Tree

What do you want?
As if your need
rises up and renders you
like lard sizzling in the skillet.

Over and over
guided and coached: what do you
want? Studied and analyzed

by your footprints
your posts, your likes,
your purchasing history
your comments,

following
the trails crafted by psycho-
paths who sell a different
peace you could obtain

if only you could get
what you want

that perfect Instagram moment
at the top of the wave
sunlit tresses tossed
emerging from the pain

with wisdom,
and the glorious smile
that convinces you to
forget the other 86,399

seconds in a day,
inevitable, carrying you
the ebb and flow and
your ancestors resonating

and thrumming in your veins
and everyone wanting.
Lamenting the deplorable

play where the actors dissemble
with fake smiles
stealing your presents
while chanting the challenge:

what do YOU want?
When really, all that’s lacking
is the silence of inner
space that opens

right now to ducks
diving in the lake
five degrees above freezing
emerging in concentric circles

rippling out to touch the others
before they descend again
diving separately
in tandem

together
and now apart,
swimming through a gold

blaze signaling
fall in the green lake,
the first brilliant week
of autumn reflected

the waters, calm
before newcomers splash down
in silvery water shimmers
of resolution. The question

turns reality
inside out and flings you
into a fruitless flummox

WHAT do you want?
Full of myself,
brimming with you,
how
can I be more

here
more
now
eyes open

mind clear
heart receptive
to this deluge
of blessings?

Inspired by: #OctPoWriMo Day 19: What do you want, Challenge, Week, Dissemble, Deplorable,  Resolution.

Who’s that lady?

 

I am that nondescript neighbor

walking the dog everyone knows.

Nobody recognizes us

as we stroll

under the cerulean sky,

our tender hearts hidden,

our passions reined

by our mindful deliberate pace.

 

Inspired by: nondescript, neighbor, tender, cerulean

Revealing Hidden Costs

“The price of a sense of an individual identity is a sense of separation from others and nature.” ~ Michael Pollan, How To Change Your Mind

I pay the fee, ask for
a discount when I step outside
mindfully, receptive to comments
from the watchful beings
in the tallest branches. How is it
that I, who profess to love
communication, can only manage,
“ah, the birds are aware of my journey”?
When can I speak bird?
And I’m not asking yet for hummingbird
love trills or goldfinch songbooks,
just a simple, “Look out, everybody!”
that ripples through the other sentient
beings. My footsteps vibrating to the brains
buried in soil, my scent wafting
to the cautious. If I reduce time spent —
another price — online and in cars,
can I generate enough presence
to join in this vivid cacophony,
combining like droplets of water
in a joyful celebration of life?
It’s messy and confusing; obviously
I must stop here
and embrace this now.

Inspired by the Rag Tag Prompt: Reduce

I recycle 2016 Daily Word Prompts: Water

Inspired by the Daily Addictions Prompt: Generate

I am really enjoying the challenge of writing a poem combining these three prompts daily!

The Tide Is Now Turning

“To follow the way of water is to return to one’s spiritual essence.” — Hua-Ching Ni, The Book of Changes and the Unchanging Truth

“Be!” My grandson commands, so

I look closely with him at a puddle.

Present in this very moment

that stretches beyond time and space,

our hearts connect, pulsating

with this vibrant aliveness.

An insect is floating, and I conclude

it is dead, but he says,

“Bee!” again, and gingerly

fishes it out to rest in his palm.

The water drops off and the bug

stirs, drying its wings from the newfound

land of a toddler’s finger.

We have been talking about gentleness

with living beings, hugging trees.

And now his inquisitive focus

feels the creature step daintily

over his skin, as if showing

gratitude for salvation. I am watching

that wasp-like abdomen as it quivers,

worried that this love-fest

will turn ugly.  I teach respect

and yet I vibrate with memories

of wicked inexplicable stings.

He turns his finger and the exploration

continues but when he looks to me

in doubt, I say, “Fly, bee, fly!”

and whisk it off into the air.

We stand here like herons,

our feet in the water, yet rooted

in the earth, our faces lifted to the sky,

celebrating a tiny flight

with exquisite concentration,

and he says again, “Be!”

Inspired by The Daily Word Prompt: tide

Soundcloud recording here.

A Notable Improvement

Once, it was easy to zone out

for an hour while a master moves

my muscles and limbs, but now

the intention I hold as

I move into spaces

transforms my very being.  I am here

to release because it is clear

that my grip is deadly.  Though

I hold on for dear life,

that chokehold is fatal.

A month ago, I named

what I want to release,

but in this healing container

created with an intuitive energy

mover, I am learning

the power of simplicity

offered by orthobionomy.

She touches my feet,

and all the things that I can’t stand

arise: full-blown, operatic,

enticing, beckoning, Jump in

— free admission! —

and relive that past trauma.

In the middle of the deluge, I remember

I am here to release,

so I let it go — I was holding that

in my feet?  When she moves

to my hands, all the things I can’t handle

arise. My body is so literal!

When what I believed I could handle

appears, my throat gets itchy

and a tear slides down my cheek.

I track its path in wonderment.

It feels huge, obvious as if traced

with a purple paint-laden brush,

and I am here, right now,

to release it all, even the joy

bubbling up in the freed-up places.

I open my treasure chest, intent upon

bestowing all that I’ve held dear,

all that’s held me captive.

She touches my scalp

rivulets of energy

zapping, finally freed,

flow down and out

the bubbling wells at the soles

of my feet. Soul work, indeed.

Inspired by The Daily Word Prompt: notable

Like A Parachute

Now you may have no intention

to leap, but in these final dark days,

it happens in a flash: the floor opens up

and you are plunging down a chasm

of terror and fear. You need to be ready

and so you need to practice.

This is the way to thwart the plummet,

to find how to get back safely.

First sit here quietly.

There is a river hidden deep inside

that knows where to take you.

Feel down into it, sense

the flow beckoning.

Know the current is kind

and truly wants to convey you

safely to this new place.

Can you let go?

If you sit here daily,

the river’s song will become clearer.

I long to hear you laughing

with glee as you drop down

to be carried away, as you call

my name, come join me,

your practice and your knowing

saving us all.

Inspired by The Daily Word Prompt: thwart

Headache Revisited: Sacred and Profane

Once there was a time

when I would have complained

that this headache came quite suddenly

out of the blue

from left field

without warning

completely unexpectedly.

Back then I stirred in

all the necessary ingredients

carelessly, as if born

yesterday, baking the cake

bushwhacked when all the invited

guests popped out of the shadows

yelling, “Surprise!”

Nowadays, I no longer believe

in coincidence. I can follow the trail

like a detective:  a-ha!

lack of liquid here,

running full out there,

each step leading to my present

predicament, which can be

resolved calmly, no time wasted

in recrimination.  I’ll just do it

differently now.

Inspired by The Daily Word Prompt: suddenly