Working Out

I’m enrolled in a workout class

designed to give me more flexibility

when wielding my tune-in muscle.

I used to think I was weird or wired

differently, stuck in that unyielding

school desk watching the clock’s

agonizing creep. But now I know

anyone can do this. A parent dials

into their child’s frequency

to understand the being of few words

and passionate, overwhelming desires.

We sense into the needs of our pets,

opening to a way of communicating

that feels mysterious, psychic.

Our schools are designed to stamp

out our mystical knowledge. Everyone

must fit into the square pegs, summoned

by bells to march to classrooms.

Slaves to time, unquestioning.

Some of us fell through the cracks,

resisted the molding, shedding it

like snake skin. Reaching into a field

sparkling like dewdrops on a spiderweb

of magnetic aliveness that spans

the globe, we are awake and sitting.

The mystics and the poets will save us

by opening up the clock

to the spaciousness between seconds,

inviting us to abandon the lurid

sitcoms and online distractions

that keep us tied to an agenda

like mice spinning on a wheel.

Change the station, dial in to

the connection we have all been

reaching for, right here, on the other

side of the canned laughter

that keeps you

from listening to now.

Inspired by the Ragtag Daily Prompt: Sitcom

Grokking My Place

“Can you leave without a trace?” — Thomas Hubl

I came to the circle, fueled

by a very simple desire:

to observe and then honor

my body’s signals. To correctly translate

a cough, a sneeze, an itch

after a bite of food into a clear

instruction to throw away

this poison! And I am sincere.

Why continue to eat it, why keep

up this conversation of how costly

it was, how I cannot waste it?

When I step forward into my new

direction, the pull of the ancestors

is so strong that I lose my balance.

I turn to see my four grandparents,

never friendly, united now

by their Great Depression trauma

when food was precious, and lives

were at stake for those

who didn’t get it.

Behind them, a multitude of starving

ancestors, struggling through famine.

How to find a resource to ease this?

We celebrated the earth,

her bountiful nature that fed them,

and realized it is no longer the case,

her food now stripped of nutrients,

empty calories bursting with

genetically-inserted pesticides.

My body knows what is true.

My ancestors, seeing the light,

relaxed their grip.  And 12 hours later,

my son called.  He had to give two-weeks

notice to leave a very expensive

preschool, and though he’d still have

to pay, he knew his son

received more loving nourishment

with me, and that was what was important

and could I care

for him today?  Yes, yes, yes!

The release immediately felt

through all the generations,

karma vanishing without a trace.

Inspired by The Daily Word Prompt: observe