Creation Myths

In the palace we’ve been kneeling
to the flickering blue god
lapping up the dopamine, reeling
unspeakable homage awed, odd
existence we’ve constructed
in our dreams. I’m a white
boomer, cowed, misinstructed
a sacrificial volunteer
because I’m here, I survived
the twists of narrative shifts.
Today the palace walls reveal
a makeshift cabin, cables bare
unravel, down to the wire
dangerously sparking. There
the narrative gap appears
we blink in dissonance and fear:
why are we here? Who wields power
panic-driving in this practiced
horror flick? Didn’t I read this
contrived plot in dystopian schtick?
I turn from this projection, sing
with calm, unwavering I reach
the door, ignore the rich confection
beckoning quest, I feel the trees
rooted drawing spring, the birds
praising what’s real disregarded
too many words, our separation
myths drive us to this. And yet
we freak out when the story shifts.
Here is the opening: dive in.
The world is new now we create
the saving gifts. I’m here
for you in ways we have no clue.

Soundcloud recording here.

Inspired by quest, cabin, calm and the Saturday Stream of Consciousness prompt wire, the unsettling panic descending when the narrative shifts abruptly and the public service announcement: this is the chance we’ve been waiting for to step out of the old paradigm and create connection.

What We Carry

What happens when I become softer or warmer or slower when I feel myself?~Thomas Huebl

Two hawks kite and spiral through
the mating skies, summon me
solitary suburban witness with new-made
eyes and the intention to be precise.

My charade ingrained habit learned
with Peter Rabbit, hare-brained
beliefs I trust with my life.
What a gift to the world when

I examine my burdens unnamed
I’ve ignored to declaim
global trauma. Summon
a shaman. These hawks suffice.

Tell me why do I
combine all my unmet moments
to project on the wide screen?
My routine battle a smokescreen

bypass my contribution,
I demand absolution but
I cannot be vulnerable,
take risks in love. I hover above

can’t even breathe,
spinning in the whirlwind
threats of a pandemic,
old structures collapse endemic

to the separation myth. How
can I give myself now
what I never received?
Reality misperceived.

I call like an urgent raptor
dare to name these shadows.
In our connected place,
I hug myself in quiet space

a warm regard, a love embrace.
Root and ground like a great
tree–and touch so delicately
pain I hold yet cannot free.

My healing song invites
the places I’ve condemned
to simply be a hymn
resonating I bring my darkness to the light

bring all of me. The beings calling
from the skies here now the key
I finally heed. Witness my fear
with me? All you have is mine, I finally see.

Soundcloud recording here.

Inspired by Combine, Trust, Battle, Gift and yet another raucous pair of mating hawks demanding my attention.

Featured image of Cooper’s hawk credit.

What Appears To Be

It is time to practice how to attune to the new reality that Gaia is preparing…See people awakening and walking their own paths towards the new.
The circle of humans that stand in the light of the new reality is larger and larger. Rejoice and give thanks.~Marko Pogačnik

In the ubiquity of fear and smear
of politics and media, oh,

we fall asleep standing right here,
declare we’re copacetic—cheer

thrilled as the festivities appear.
We forget that we are desperate

addicts, looking for a fix, oh,
we won’t call it that, hush, dear.

As Gaia makes this quantum leap
in her own evolution, the sphere

we are vibrates into light, oh,
breathe into us the words: all clear.

We’re fingers on the hand waving
into the mirror. We are love, oh,

look into our palm, life peer,
the lines are trails into the new.

The web we weave spinning, oh,
into the space appearing now.

Inspired by: Copacetic, Ubiquitous, DesperateFestivities and the Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt, oh.  (The rules: Your post must be stream of consciousness writing, meaning no editing (typos can be fixed), and minimal planning on what you’re going to write.  And today it was sooooo hard not to edit.)

Finally, finally

Do you always trust your first initial feeling?
Special knowledge holds true, bears believing.
I turned around and the water was closing all around
Like a glove, like the love that had finally, finally found me.~Stevie Nicks

I want to school her in yes and
clinging to her ideals sunders

our agreement. I say, be cautious
of labels and she says it shouldn’t

matter, only right action does.
The judgment of what is right

so nebulous it creates a fissure
and our power diminishes. We wade

through tidal pools, chasing
the truth while ancient coral

cuts into our flesh as jagged
matter does. We reach the sea

at last, this pulsing vital force
like love, too endless to name

even though it’s often claimed
in the beginning was the word.
Continue reading Finally, finally

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.

Opening in Rain

If humans are interconnected in such a way that one person’s awakening could be informing the rest of the species, then this could indicate that we are on track for a exponential awakening event of the kind that could transform us as a species overnight.~Caitlin Johnstone, The Humans Are Waking Up.

My roommates turn away from
the tristful morning, sighing over

the missing sun. I move to the
porch to repudiate the judgment,

not from some highfalutin
need to be right, it’s simply

great blue heron is watching
the wake where big bass

chased minnows to the surface.
I am conscious of wild

treasures, give thanks to hunted
and hunter, to watcher and

rain, slowing imperceptibly.
Snake glides in a vee across

the bay. Green heron perches
on the dock rails startling

nearly simultaneously as my
binoculared gaze touches.

Patches of fog dance dreamily
over the deep channels. I shift

from observer, ground myself,
sinking deep into the earth.

Dragon fire from the heartcore
pulses at the portal, awaiting

my express invite. Where you go,
mother, go I, inseparable,

your rooted daughter opening
now the door to the universe

flooding through my perception
of a skull. I give my breath

to this being
beyond grateful, holding wide

space beyond separation
that no longer serves.

Did it ever? Awareness spreads
something unknown leaps

and we all are touched
by the present ripples.

Inspired by Tristful, Highfalutin, Repudiate and Nearly. and this monthly meditation by Marko Pogacnik.


Way down south, days start slow

sitting in the terra-cotta

and white tiled courtyard


by birdsong

foreign to my ears,

but not my heart.


I’m sipping nitro, a local

delicacy, smooth and bursting

in a way that flavor somehow

instructs:  Savor!

A quick rustling in this fruit-

laden hedge

above which loom live oaks

and palm trees.  In the huge pots,

creamy cups ascend a stalk.

These living beings nameless,

exquisite mysteries demanding

my narrative shift from the knowing

place.  I enter childlike


reciprocal delight,

sink into this new spell

attuned to

the ancient language

of wild celebration, life

wanting to live.

Inspired by: Abroad, Foreign, Narrative and Stalk.