To The Sacred Grove

I look backward at the convoluted path which spiraled me to this place
and I pledge to
patiently, precise,
clean the confusing energies
the hate, the grief, the pain, the suffering poured out unclaimed
which may be fueling another’s dance.

I am holding icebergs of ancestral, societal and galactic trauma
I bring as gifts
in the deep presence of now
letting my attentive love release the frozen energies
allowing miracles
of inspiration,

light dripping and flowing
always the presence of light…

Today as I bring my new birthing self
I acknowledge you live in me
your touch may be as light as moonbeams through a window
or a fiery furnace
this light of our intentional coherence
we breathe into being
right now

I bring my intention and commitment
as we begin the long and arduous journey.
I bring my tools and wisdom, my love of song and rhyme
as we conduct new symphonies out of time.

I claim my sacred being includes you and yours includes me.

I claim each moment in this unfolding now
the opening door
the fertile ground

I claim myself the sovereign seed
I root in the immensity
I reach for the stars
and I flourish in the air

Recognizing the poisons and the systems and the Nefarious Other
are birthed in me.
Reclaiming all of the parts that have been hated and despised
bringing them into the sacred grove.

I proclaim that in the space of we, the light flows unimpeded,
celebrated, energizing and inspiring, the source that joyfully runs us

undepleted sacred divine we
unique essential expressions of one love
the stream that nourishes
the web that connects
the jewels of Indra’s Net,
revealing the illusions of separation
dissolve in our intentional life as a grove.


An Bradán Feasa

(featured image by the brilliant Quinn Blackburn found here.)

And now for something completely different…

The way is long and convoluted to her house, but when I arrive, the journey behind me feels like a breath. Old and wrinkled, bright clear eyes, she’s at the door of the ancient stone cottage, wooden spoon in hand. Behind her in the hearth, flames leap, steams and interesting smells waft.

“You again,” and I ride a wave of defensiveness of my intention. This visit was unplanned and is always happening, and I must bring a pure heart.

“Greetings, beloved Grandmother,” I begin, and bow deeply. Then, with an inhale for courage, “I seek An Bradán Feasa.”

A sparse white eyebrow raises. “Why would the likes of you…”

“I need to know, how do I work with these subtle forces well?”

“What is well?” She is untying her apron, stepping fully out into the sun, upright carriage though she is impossibly old. “What is work?”

I am silenced with the immensity of this journey.

I say instead, “How can I host gentle, loving curiosity and kind regard in this moment?”

“Come,” as if these words reveal my heart, and we walk into the deep grove of ancient trees. We approach a large poplar I know well, roots exposed, and she nods, “Here is the way.”

And I dive into the roots, first deep down, and then spanning across until I burst into a crystalline pool.

“I seek An Bradán Feasa,” I announce underwater, and the huge ancient Salmon of Knowing is swimming beside me.

“Do you come devoted to not knowing?”

“Yes,” I say without considering, and An Bradán Feasa opens a great mouth and swallows me as if I were a hazelnut.

“What?” I am shocked in my consumption.

“This is participation,” I am instructed, “true and coherent with the whole.”

The fish swims deep and I watch from within as long, thin black strands of poop come out and float down into the depths.

Then the fish leaps into the air, a great arc of silver flash and rainbows of water crystals.

And in fear, I shout, “There are fishermen seeking you!”

An Bradán Feasa laughs and laughs, until I am shuddering with the motion.

“They see me leap,” and the great fish rises again in powerful joy.

Without warning, I am choking.

Wordless, together we follow the movement of the energy to the place where a prisoner of time is caged. A terrified and tiny being, unmet, restrained and constricted. She can’t breathe in her fear. We bring the space of loving curiosity and allow the energy to move. There is no attachment to what emerges, simply this respect for the blocked energy and the intention to release it through light and space.

And the next breath eases and opens and I sigh.

Exhausted, I rub my eyes and realize I am swimming up through the roots, back to my grandmother, who gives me a cheeky grin and a careful kiss on my third eye, and I am following the drums and the call to my place and time of the seven-chambered heart where my siblings open their own eyes and we regard each other in silent wonder, swimming gently in our connected stream.


Featured Ancient Wise One as recounted in Irish mythology.  A version can be found here.

Note: Normally, fish poop is the color of their food. Long stringy poop is a sign of stress. The long thin black poop right after eating me suggests a lot of toxins I brought to the mix, that An Bradán Feasa was able to process and expel.  I’m just guessing, standing in the invaluable “I don’t know.”

We Save Each Other

For James

This dissonance created by talking
heads spinning webs of deceit

is no mistake. Carefully crafted
disempowerment revealed in the dark.

Spiraling up. We start,
disturbed. Harvest what’s been

planted, brows wrinkled.
When we dare to question

we’re inundated with flippant
non-answers, rising like vapor

in our muddled midst.
We are awakening to the chaos

feeling alone. Despair.
We cannot make sense of

the cruelty of separation.
Across the planet, we tug

a line igniting our soul fire.
Oblivious, immersed in our unfixable

wrongness, even so we touch
the responsive field. Huddled

in pitch black, eyes closed
as the light hurtles us to day.

Every agonized step we take
loosens our silenced sisters’ bonds.

Every word we stutter dissolves
the others’ gags. Every gasp

breathes. Our connected hearts
pulse to the living now.

Written for #OctPoWriMo Day 1 prompt a dark night of the soul and inspired by: Flippant, Vapor, Harvest and Wrinkle. and a suicidal tweet by a young autistic gay person in England this morning.