Redeem On Demand

This movement toward freedom is natural and unstoppable and good.” Pauline Kael

Deep inside me is the divine core,

and here is where resides

this sacred internal partner

flowing through me,

making me an instrument

of peace and love, bright

tones suffusing the air

opening every heart

to birthright.

Even in the depths of grief,

the torrential outpouring

of anger, the song

spills out, unstoppable,

holding us in our most forlorn

moments, invisible refrains

of high intelligence always

open, available,

free love

surging forth in our remorse,

screaming frustration an opening

even the tiniest, most inaudible

invitation granted

instant response.

Inspired by: Forlorn, Frustration, Remorse and Partner

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Out of Difficulties

My wise embodied  future

self laughs with her entire

being, invites this sober

woman so intent on healing:

relax.  I anticipate her arrival

layers of resolutions

from dissonance to consonance

singing together

harmony emerging in the sheer

passionate joy

rejuvenation.

She is an enigma.

You can’t get there from here.

She beckons, glimmering

through the mists of knotted

cords, the entanglements

which hold me firmly in the past

I keep recreating

and calling the present.

I set my intention

in the deep space

of high intelligence

that surrounds me

always available

even when I’m squirming

like a worm on a hook,

all of my resistance an inevitable

lure to the destiny

I’ve rejected.  Come on,

stop the nibbling;

feast on me.

Take me into your cavernous

depths and transform me

into the next

unexpected miracle.

Inspired by: Resolutions, Enigma, Anticipate

We Need To Talk

There is no stress.  There are unconscious buttons I allow to be pushed. ~ Thomas Huebl

 

with this newly revealed

response-ability,

intelligent kindliness counter-

balancing the temptation to over-

give, that insidious disempowerment

informing my comfortable codependence.

In the spirit of the new year —

my own starts at the solstice, though

I prefer to slip

out of time, promising

abstract paths

to a new way

steps in constellation spotlight.

Tuning in

past the constructs of space

to this abstruse message

hope, impossible to touch

or hear or see,

available through other senses.

Still I reach out with word-ship sails

beckoning in the beyond.

When we meet, I’ll ask

to sit

each sinking into

first our own bodies.

See the thoughts circling

like wasps, defending

invisible barriers constructed

during infantile wailing,

essential for survival

at one time.

Here now, we feel

into the bonds that entangle

giving space to their innate

elasticity, unraveling under

our compassion.  Now here

heart-opening ears and tongues

we have messages to share.

Inspired by the Echoes of Light toning recording and the word prompts: Responsibility, Temptation, Promising and Abstract

Call Up, Darling

“Emotions come, I don’t know why…Call me, call me any, anytime.
Call me.” ~ Blondie

I used to pummel the heavens

wailing, wanting.  Today I wish

to awaken to what lurks

at the edges of my trance,

potential rippling, pulsing

in the magnetic now,

awaiting the touch of my focus.

My grandson demands his mother

call me, and when our faces

appear onscreen,

his devastated wails

almost muffle his mommy,

Nobody knows what’s wrong.

My awareness resting

on the connection in our nervous

systems, I open the container

to allow what is.

This overwhelming emotion

simply needs to be presenced,

the huge wave

sweeping away

everything in its path.

I hear these compassionate ahhhs,

hmmmms coming from my heart

and tears glisten my eyelashes. 

We need

the leisure to feel

without narrative.

A raspy sigh

and he hits the red

button that lets our focus

gently slide out of ceremony.

He’s ready to face his life.

Outside the rain is slipping

into the shimmering lake

which celebrates every drop

in a dizzying dance.

Inspired by: Leisure,  Pummel, Rain, Feeling, and Ceremony.

Rising Concord

Listen to the lines of sorrow

composed in tweet

hymns, overwhelmed

by grim information in such sharp

contrast

to the million-year-old symphony

composed by woodlands.

We stumble in the fog

of our own sentience,

unaware

in the moment, we create

everything, the quantum entanglements

of whatever we observe

coming into full focus:

the shared terror of

this collective nightmare

or rising gently

like the sap of our tree

allies to the next level

awakening suddenly

to a blossoming reality

each unique voice

essential

as we create

the new global being.

Inspired by: Hymn,  UnawareInformation, Contrast

Hold Me

I have no ears

for the mocking conquerors.

I filter through the sneers

parceled out by the brainwashed

afraid to die.

I’m listening to the reports

of the brave, the anguished,

impoverished, imprisoned,

excluded, tiny bleats

of the oppressed, hushed

whispers repressed,

the silenced.

They live in me.

I feel them pulsing and so

I dig through the roots

grown in colonized soil.

Carefully lifting each traumatized

artifact, trembling,

alive

into the space of sacred.

Opening the container

until I can hold

what I carry.

And I see 

finally in the open air

sending it all down

down into Gaia’s embrace.

Her joyful acceptance of my gift

stunning

as she transforms my difficulty

what I call toxic

into pure fuel

and releases it back into my flow.

Renovated from certain death,

glistening in the new air

the fine webs of our connection,

like slender fibers streaming

from my nervous system

joined with yours

— all this time! —

stretching into the cosmos

like the ancestral constellations

glimmering in our darkness

singing through our bleeding

hearts, as we feed each other

at last with conscious intent.

True love dripping

from our lips,

the pools of our eyes,

the very breath we exhale

As we drop deeper into ourselves.

 

Inspired by Repress, Renovate, Parcel,  and Die.

The Typo Stands

We are giving birth to a global being with a collective intelligence. ~ Thomas Huebl

She is a guest in this house

peering through the diaphanous

curtains.  Longing to sink

roots deep, she visits the nearby

forest, focused on fairy

folk who might hear

her frantic cry.  She needs

help.  She wants to be

cherished.  I invite her 

to move in,

sit for a spell

but too many things need doing

an infatuation to file

puzzle pieces that don’t seem

to fit.  She’s pushing and jamming

wailing like a tired

toddler, wanting

someone

to direct her

to the safe

napping place

to stand guard

I am sitting

as she races past

once again

toward the ringing bell

the promise of a new land

where she can be

herself finally.

Does she glimpse me

in her spin this time?

There’s nothing to do,

only to be

aware, spaciousness

and still

here, the doors

flung wise.

Inspired by:  Infatuation, Guest, Diaphanous