Fierce Narrative Shift

The hidden costs now fully leaved
and we can choose to believe

hundreds of thousands of years
life brimming close and vital

feeding each other with love survival
plain, we’re here, what changed

is only story. The one is the glory
and praise, divine nature’s call

here in my instrument I set my intent
if there’s one thing sweeping the globe

it’s control by fear, and I won’t host it here.
Every traumatized fragment will arise

that happens when you’re hypnotized
awake I commit to my song, to speak

when I perceive the wrong, embrace
the hidden places clamoring to steer

upon the rocks of misguided fear.
one thing to praise and love

awakens my desire to be a force
the divine law the source

outside we stride into the light
know in our hearts what is right

I’m here for this. Essential me. Please
add your voice in this time to rejoice.

 

Beggars Would Ride

The universe was literally spoken into being. Language, embodied in sound and light, not only affects, but effects the genesis of life. Go live your passion with all the joy, gratitude, love and laughter you can muster!~Sol Luckman

I slide open the doors and
blue feathers flash across water.

On the urban edge, another interrupted
heron breakfast. At my feet, a brown

spider’s carcass. When the birds disappear,
the ecosystem collapses.  We stir

uneasy, boxed in childhood fairytale
heroes and villains, easy duality

until a clear-eyed child points to
the strutting naked emperor.  How can we

reconcile the blatant evil–30 Afghan
farmers killed while sleeping, a king

receiving US troops to defend his
oil? The brutal empire tentacles

choke the vulnerable, while we
walk up hill and down to offer our

energy-fuel to this earth-destroying
machine. Complicit. Implicit. Illicit.

Manipulated to concur by a constant
stream of chaotic lies. Heads spinning,

which foe do we fight first? Hopeless
shoulders slump. The storytellers gloat

pretty falsities, sugared treats prepared
just for our refined palates. Addicted

to promises, the wishful silenced
by the indigestible. Hush now.

Sleep. The only way to change
the world is to wake and tell

a different story.
Seek and you shall

find, they used to say. Ask,
like any beggar, for a lift.

Inspired by: Laugh, Concur, Wishful and the old saying, if wishes were Horses, then beggars would ride.

Beyond Bombarded

All we need is hope
And for that we have each other ~ Andra Day.

I break out of the radio
active waves where I am
the target of entrainment.
Unsubtle, brutish, a puzzle
how this happened.

I No Longer Acquiesce.

I am a child of Gaia and our
indomitable spirit rises
over this apparent adversity.

The House is voting to condemn
tweets by the lord of chaos
while tormented people stuffed
in cages swelter on the border.

The productive heart listens
past the infernal invitation
to smear, denigrate, exclude.
We are each necessary parts
to integrate.

I reach out in deep
space meditation with this finely
strung nervous system. Can you
feel how far it reaches?

Down low are the harassing
5G vibrations shaking down
the unwary, but once you turn off
the sets in your vicinity, no longer
pulled like water skiers, drop into
the busy lake with fast and fatal
propellers,

sink deep, open your heart where
I am, and together, brimming
with this vital
present
humming, tingling life,

our only course
is to rise.

Inspired by: Adversity, Puzzle, Productive and Target, this cover of Rise Up by Morissette, two bees courting this coneflower this morning–working side by side, and the release that comes from connecting with you, fellow travelers on the road to the new global love village we create right now.

Let Your Light Shine

Tuesday’s elaborate energy
work—full moon, partial eclipse

and Mercury retrograde—pulled
distraction devices from my field.

The wrenching pain sent me into sleep
visits in universes, informed

by matter. I strove to balance
all of my being. I don’t know

about yourself, but I scribble art
in parallel places—create

architecture, poetry and
flight. Every relationship that stalled

here, lives on a dreamscape away.
Bringing all of us up to speed

took Wednesday. Today I wake
to a stilled and sullen world.

Twitter has turned unappealing
black. Only the ugliest

political voices fill blue
screens. I sail past the battery

of bitter recriminations,
the fear-born anger. Do you know

in our quiet inner spaces,
we connect in light? Intricate

internet far surpassing this
technology wielded to control

us with subverted crystals.
I see you shining above

the murky fog. Our love glitters
across the darkened planet.

Rooted in the deep places where
fear is not, this rollercoaster

of perceptions allowed to thrill,
and we’re laughing in the face of

inimical would-be masters
because at last, at long last

we know what is illusion
and what is real.

Inspired by: Battery, Elaborate,  Scribble and Yourself.

Right Now

Now is the time to rise and take back the power you have given to wishing yourself away.~Patricia Cori

That stunning shade of green

summer in Ireland, misty, lush,

sings by the lake this morning.

Ferns are stroked

so gently, an almost imperceptible

sway.  Songbirds harmonize lofty

praise to now, raising my vibration.

I’m outside to escape the dread-news

saga juddering the square walls

ricocheting from flat ceilings.

Listen, Gaia, I am here

for you.  I’m adding my voice

to my cheerful avian allies.

Celebrate each tiny note

composing the symphony we are.

I am in love, committed.  Finally

I allow even the darkest shadows.

The quiet place inside where we are

frames each exquisite signal

of our emerging unstoppable joy.

Inspired by:  Escape, Lofty, Saga, Quiet  and these vibrant quick-changing sunsets that set my spirit on fire!

Tuning In

Listen: There are dark forces intent
on ravaging the planet with robotic

rule, insisting that only forever
wars guarantee the easy life,

blaring constant propaganda:
you are alone and useless,

there is nothing you can say or do
to make a difference.  Sit in thrall

to the airwaves cacophony
of fear and grief and terror.

And the still truth is:
you are a self-

aware fractal of the whole.
Every love you make and

every kindness, every space
you create ripples through the waters

of our interconnected being
and wakes us to our true calling.

Open wide.

Sit deep.

Tuning like musical medicine
we find the superior resonance

wax poetic in our
leisurely hike through ancestral

glades sunlit by glory.
We dance through the darkened

valleys, uniquely original
as we finally find

the brave deep heart
harmony to sing our part.

Inspired by: Superior, Poetic, Hike and Original.

When Money Mediates

We laughed when they started
selling bottled water

but the people in Flint
are desperate, counting cents

to save their lead-infused
children from usury

the bankers deal. And I
assure you that the sky

is next, they’ll charge for air
–breathe if you have the fare.

Power-hungry nimble
fingers count the symbols

list a million reasons to
stand your ground is treason.

Debtors prison is real
and you are blind in line.

Only thing to over-
throw is this mapped system

—time and separation
should be foisted-stories

drive to obviate what’s
free. Prison-planet hate

slogging through poisoned soil
and billionaires unloyal

to their sisters, scrambling
to the top, they trample

these delicate flowers.
Desire sours and

this doesn’t end well.

A few buy and sell us.
On the other side of

nightmare, we gift inside
pure presence, the only

interest paid: sacred loan
of attention to wake

from this simple mistake.

What is real together
emerges wherever

we sit and see
this imaginary split.

The truth is we are one
we are one.

We have won when
we are one.

Inspired by Obviate, Money, Nimble and Desire.

Can’t Change Tomorrow

No respite from the insult

identical in each lack-

luster lie. You can’t quit

work to drown it out and preach

some try to open up each 

other’s eyes.  We’ve come to this

absorbing from the bed

facedown. We teach the ones be-

neath like waves on shore, high tide.

No pleasure in this ride.

Until we turn and say 

awake, awake, for the earth’s 

sake, it’s time to cry or die.

We start with what’s below our

feet, here where we meet.

Our hearts connect in pure

truth space, the human race

spiraling past like galaxies

the future not within our grasp

it’s now

it’s now

it’s now

or never.

Inspired by:  Respite, Lackluster, Identical and Lies.

What Do I Say When It’s All Over

My descendants await my mea culpa

frozen with anticipation

and cold-eyed sneers

at my willful ignorance.

We brand our children

with the cruel iron of society,

commiserating with our friends

it has to be so.

Hammering squares into the round

abyss, following the law

to the brink of our own

extinction.  For too long

I have studied the bones

of trauma with an amicable

rictus grin my talisman,

gone the weasels

and wolves, panthers and bears,

so many uncharted flutterers,

the world paved over.

Children in cages and when

I was young, I swore

I would never have accepted

concentration camps yet here

they are, on imaginary

lines we call borders.

I pay for these bars

and guns and ice-cold

depravity with the threat

of my own punishment

if I resist.  The tried-and-true

are false.  We lock away

our aged, no honor and

their wise moments

of lucidity unheard.  This shrinking

world fingers

pointed at me.

I admit

I am every angry voice.

I am every fearful silence.

I watch numbly

as the worst unrolls.

This is the end of all

and I am the cause.

I am killing my mother,

the earth, with each careless

keystroke as I protest

my innocence, my good

intentions.

Inspired by:  Amicable, Weasel, Talisman and Mea Culpa.

New phone, who dis?

I used to fantasize

my family tree grew

from the nobility.

I’d say, “Off with her head,”

to seize my cousin’s power.

— Maybe this is a Scottish

Stuart thing.  A child, I’d watch

with a fire, my heart

desperate to make sense

of the outright imbalance

that no one acknowledged.

And then the teenaged avalanche

of insights, someone didn’t 

share and we are all

descendants of that

hoarding evil.  We started

as stardust, so why do we

idolize these pretty faces

glimpsed on their expensive yachts,

their feet firmly planted

on our delicate necks?

We don’t even squirm,

lost in our visions —

perhaps even their

merest touch

will gild our desires.

When will we rise

and claim our connection,

tear down the illusion

walls and awaken

to hear

the cries

of our cousins?

Inspired by:  Nobility, Watch, Avalanche and Fire.