Monthly Archives: November 2017

Ghosts

26 Sunday Nov 2017

Posted by in devotion, learning, light, poems, poetry, vision, work

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If the light in you diminishes, wanes,

withers,

and you become a shrunken version of yourself,

be sure of this-

Ghosts are feeding.

If confidence gets tugged into the nearest pit,

and mockery replaces spark-

cynicism having leaked its silent poison into your veins-

ask not what is wrong with you

(a honed Ghost hunting tactic)

but sharpen those warrior skills to track,

sight,

and disarm the immaterial and deadly specters.

You can start by slapping a sign

on the inside of the front door saying,

Ghosts, piss off!,

while laughing at their familiar, but fruitless, methods.

If you need more time

23 Thursday Nov 2017

Posted by in becoming, change, discomfort, learning, listen, Music, mystery, nature, poems, poetry, story, strength, vision, welcoming, work

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If you need more time

for the new birds to find you,

take more walks with your awkward, fledgling self.

Squawking and flight, a generous song now and again,

will always surround you.

Being the only of a kind in a place

opens more relationships than you might think, while

flavor of faith develops

with your stronger listening ears.

It is needed as you continue, seeing ahead

and noticing the talon prints you’ve left behind.

Human walking

21 Tuesday Nov 2017

Posted by in becoming, family, honoring, learning, listen, nature, poems, poetry, story, the road, weaving, work

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Born from uninitiated folk,

as most Westerners are,

creates holes in knowing that let icy winds enter.

Weaving oneself back together requires attention,

a briny commitment, earthly,

sight of an old fist-width rope tying the now to a millennia of then:

the family line.

Mostly invisible shoulders carry

the wobbling essential unformed

human walking known as you.

Start asking questions.

Hunger

20 Monday Nov 2017

Posted by in becoming, devotion, learning, mystery, poems, poetry, presence, vision, welcoming, wonder, work

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Wanting to know what satisfies

an ancient hunger you’re not even certain is yours,

countless streets, endless questions,

bottomless pans, and tears of frustration

over a lifetime

have added up to a hillock of humus,

dark, fertile, and remembered.

The sought after whatsit, the toil of time and love,

may or may not ever amble up to you,

paws dirty with devotion.

The wanting filling your carved out places,

a blue, swirling smoke scented from the beyond,

is itself required elixir

drawing you deeper into life.

Cursing that desire away, and aimlessly trying to fulfill it

means trading your own gold for dull, already forgotten tin.

Feather etchings

17 Friday Nov 2017

Posted by in aging, beauty, becoming, change, death, devotion, freedom, honoring, mystery, nature, poems, poetry, the road

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Feather etchings of wrinkles,

our tributaries of experience, deepen

towards more

not less.

Must we forget what the soul always knows,

that appearance is not worth

and youth is not to be strived for

but grown beyond?

Instead of living seventy years

as wobbly egos forever hungry and

needing to be bolstered,

we can throw our arms, like thick-barked tree limbs,

around death,

our constant friend teaching us

the riches of storied contours and

what it is to truly live.

Re-weave

16 Thursday Nov 2017

Posted by in abundance, adventure, beauty, becoming, devotion, honoring, listen, Love, loving, movement, night, poems, poetry, receiving, release, weaving

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Maybe it feels like standing forever in a head-high river current,

yearning.

Yet, igniting moments drop the belly

and lurch steps-

songs jump into hiccups, the nights being

so long.

And the syrup drip into sinews brought about by

–fill in the blank here–

well, if that thing, that other

is not what it’s really about,

what more enticing invitation could possibly surface

asking you

to re-weave yourself

into God?

Onward

14 Tuesday Nov 2017

Posted by in abundance, beauty, Body, devotion, gratitude, honoring, Love, loving, movement, mystery, poems, poetry, receiving, release, strength, transition, wonder

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Being caught by gratitude

between yes and no, by was and is,

between having and not,

brings the dance.

Heart suddenly solid, present and strong

like stone, not ice, with loving-

goodbye floods body with needed nectar

for not an awayness or an isolation, 

neither a grip nor a grab, 

not a mine or a missing or a fright, 

but a moving of grace 

onward.