Now Is No Time

“We are living in a time where large cleaning processes show us the massive amount of collective fear that is arising. If we combine that understanding with presence, it’s an amazing moment for humanity to deepen our grounding and the connection to our embodiment. Without presence, I will only be scared and frightened and will allow fear to run my decisions.”~Thomas Huebl

The trees are dripping light and tender drops
of rain they’ve held as if this ray of sun
is calling us each to let go, look up,
receive the sweet abundance, rightful one!

We emerge from old stories once precious
cast aside as new creations shake us
awake. Ascend in this now precocious
losing fear, rejoicing our love takes us

to the central core: who we are and more
why we together gather here awake.
I offer you insights, hardwon, implore
open space!  Now is no time to waste.

Soundcloud recording here.

Inspired by: Sweet, Space, Precocious and Rightful.

Slip Off The Yoke

Looking always without a clue for peace
enslaved befogged consciousness still a tease
learning to slip beneath the yoked control
sitting in presence here now I perceive

innermost circle of intimacy
where universal love intricacy
is never fickle, sometimes though it seems
a precipice over an endless sea

I pled for safety, I asked to be met
filtering through difficulties and yet
the only hurdle I overcome I see
with power deep inside, my great asset.

Inspired by: Fickle, Overcome, Intimacy and Precipice.

Merging Galaxies

When one door closes, another one opens, but where the new door opens might not be immediately obvious.  You may need to be energetic, persistent and ingenious to find the new door.~Rob Brezsny

Today I wake to the challenge to see
this body, frozen trauma legacy
generations of alimentation
like an iceberg unreachable whose melt

threatens the world I’ve constructed, denounced
with every finger-pointed scorn pronounced
ungrounded, unsound, all imbalanced.
The door is firmly closed. How will I bounce

weighted with ancestral chains, yoke unseen?
The patterns I have fed don’t nourish me.
The keys, my beliefs, prisoners in time
rattle my fragmented cages. I scream.

And gently with precision you meet me.
You hear the shadows talking and we see.
In the deep listening of now this heart
coherence, a steady flame, thaws living sea.

 

Now Agents

“When I walk away from what doesn’t feel good, I become an agent of walking away.  It is important to know–for our evolution–what we walk away from.  What is needed now?”~Thomas Huebl

I choose to be an agent of light
tune in with composure, unsure
yet precise. Revel in love
as opportunity writhes at my feet
each step of my way in this
coherent now. The complex how
too much to see.
I open, focus
with glee. Liquid joy enters
my world here: have you heard
the transmutation-spell sung by
birds? This oriole, a brilliant
orange alchemist produces
gladness in this human world’s
stuck fear and sadness, words
meant to point to the immensity
fall limply, hypnotized
name-calling, attacks and scorn
keep falling, desperate to deflect
the looming threat a gift from which
we flee what’s actually an invitation
to inspect the ancient structures
we project in time and space which
move our descendants with ill grace.
I focus on the central point.
What is collapsing never was real
a memory lapse.
Love fills the gaps
new connections far beyond
what we can grasp
listen
the trilling notes pierce the
perception of our cages
we reach out with gentle
choice spacious
we find our voice
rejoice we all are agents.

 

Praise

A spiritual practice is a generator of light. The light needs to come in on all levels.  We need to ask: where do I clearly say, it is happening “out there”?  We all create the world.~Thomas Huebl

I feel inspired to listen
to the song of yesterday, the light
spilling into cracks, exposing
me in new and startling ways
of being. I cannot hear those words
again, they will arrive anew as
sun and gentle rain, each moment
of spring leaping to luxuriance
the bursting bud a lead-in, once upon a time
in the narrative shift
and I am fluid
as I’ve always been
seeping through my self-made
traps through deep karmic shade.
I arrive belonging.
I bloom essential.
I sing and sing and sing
and if my voice reaches
dark places I’ve planted
in you, I bring light
I am a prayer
in the connected field
right now
celebrating
this step
now this
the way love reveals.

 

Daily Practice

As if my filters dissolve instantly, a great
blue heron appears on the estuarine

shore chased by killdeer who stage
a drama, feigned trauma to engage

audience participation. Huge blue-
gray wings flap stork-leg past the trap

location, ignoring the act of injured
screaming bird, who leaps to attack

a new scene, and I’m laughing
quietly, light bursting and gleaming

through my hair and skin beaming
I tune in, twinkle in warm

wrinkles, my intention set
to investigate my hard-headed ways

walk in the question of the questions
I don’t yet see, the ones which carry me.

The field resounds, bird sounds
and fiddleheads invited by the breeze

dancing fluidly. As presence gifts
this calm elation, illumination

of the shadows of society
opens my hands

grounded in the power that commands
my being here now.

All my chips are on the table
I’m so heavily invested, enabling

angry and sad and afraid
unable to digest the mess I’ve made.

Until today.

Each fragmentation a delicate morsel
–home delivery at my doorsill

leading me to claim
what I abhor and dare not name.

There is no separation.
What appears is simply my education.

The patient fishing bird suddenly swoops
rewarded with its wriggling food.

 

The Way Through

I wonder how I can guide my own child to embrace the night and understand that without darkness we are not just incomplete … we fail to dream.~Bear Guerra

We are here to integrate
the intractable voices poised
on the cliffs of their deluded
truths as if one unshifting
ground can be found
We sit
with open hearts for this.
Create a connected field
beyond the heady stuff
our clear intention to embody
and presence, yield attention
to the fragmented shrapnel
and shards. Summon the bards
and artists, terrified and grieving
each perceiving a unique way
give us all room to say we create
weaving the sounds perched here
on the groundswell of fear
composing in the deep
listening love brings to
the planet’s emerging sound
farewell to the death knell
here in the heartland
we are all well.

 

Narrative Shift

“Relation is how spirit becomes manifest.  (Cowbirds and robins and geese are here for this)”~My notes during yesterday’s Evolutionary Relationships Zoom meeting with 20K people.)

We who dig into the roots now rise
—first, of course, self-regulate,

surprise each moment as our biosphere
becomes clear and we create

sing-praise the body electric
from microscopic molecule to planetary

thrumming and beyond, zing
past what we conceived as separate

and scary, drop objective reality
in connection commune

the symphony the masterpiece
each voice in tune

in ways we never could perceive
until we breathe

in this precious now
the beat emerges sweet and how.

Inspired by Wrangle, Safety, Surprise, Perspicacity, Curve and the dversepoets prompt, where Björn asks us to write how things will appear on the other side of the current “pandemic.” Featured image of last night’s pink moon filling my night sky.

And deep appreciation for Walt Whitman’s love poem, I Sing The Body Electric.

In the fragile moments…

…love needs to run the show.~Thomas Huebl

Each factoid conflates and the
twittering ensues: a chirp of doubt
a caw of derision cues uneasy
flutters of the flock, buffleheads
suddenly alert. A silent bald
eagle swoops spiraling
a kick of panic, they rise
called to scatter, frantic.
It seems that things are breaking
away. The landscape shifts
earth shaking, heart aching.
Eerie, empty and the lap
of water here where I anchor
settle my electric nerves
though I may wish to fly
I find I’m rooted in relation.
How may I serve you?
Reactions seek ground. Out of
the box confined, away from
the flickering nervous screen
I bow before this glorious
life delightful flow
through me in ways
I cannot say. Silent now
leave the fray. Together
we will find a path
that’s kind. We go within.
Embrace the fear awaiting
I’m with you. In connection
we will hold a space
for what is true
emerging in our humble grace.

 

My Capacity To Resonate

Something emerging through the listening.~Thomas Huebl

He said, step into the shoes
of the perceived other and

I miss baba ghanoush, especially
—my one-time specialty—

of all the nightshades banned.
Oh, I understand when inflammation

is the only game in town,
each culprit a revelation

as I regain ground lost
off balance. It’s not by chance

that I exchange dairy and gluten
for freerange bison, high-falutin’

local food only, who knew?
Tomatoes and peppers taboo.

How must they feel, excluded,
deemed dangerous and never included

in my menu? Ah, loves,
our separation’s only temporary.

I sit in silence, release the stress
I carry—mountains of collective trauma

sparking my tired body’s drama.
And now into stress’s shoes I climb

and see, it’s what’s too much
that lingers, never felt just

branded on the skin, a red
raised welt. So many frightened

parts of us are banned, moving
with great longing to land, yet

pushed away. I sit. And say,
what’s culturally approved

what society gives sanction to
suddenly opens, the floodgates bursting

wide, the ones we’ve damned
and pushed aside reclaimed

right now.
Inclusion is the tao.

Inspired by: Revelation, Exchange, Eggplant (and thus baba ghanoush), Approve and a recent talk about being present to Climate Change between William Ury and Thomas Huebl.  You can watch it here.  There is a powerful 14-minute meditation starting at 37:40.