10 Tuesday Mar 2015
Such daring as this,
as this,
the brilliant awakening of spirit to form,
the recollection of our song,
song of the universe.
We clear the way,
set fire to the brush, roll boulders away,
push dead, fallen trees back from the path-
We face our fears,
welcome and dismantle them,
in a full-bodied knowing
of our own magnificence.
06 Friday Mar 2015
Wrinkles gather
for rivulets of joy to pass through.
Skin registers the days, the years,
captures earth movements of a lifetime-
sights seen, impacts felt..
the stories awaiting coffee and a friend’s perked ear.
Faces change, hard places become soft-
another land responding to elemental embrace.
I will watch your bodyscape alter,
like your growing heart,
and smile at time and gravity’s impressions,
in that worldly deepening
of us both.
28 Saturday Feb 2015
Posted in becoming, courage, devotion, fearlessness, freedom, poems, poetry, transition
≈ Comments Off on Falcon’s Erudition
Recall her.
Cry out against what was taken,
Shout back.
Historical reclamation of the sky is
Falcon’s erudition.
No effort wasted on explanation
only
Complete trust in body knowledge-
Flight and the hunt
instinctual as waking.
Come forth,
The weightlessness of self-possession
calls you.
28 Saturday Feb 2015
the crippled reaching
for someone else to make you complete-
what teachings established in hearts
has wings
if it plants a strangler vine,
suggesting you aren’t whole
exactly as you are?
21 Tuesday Oct 2014
Neither glabrous nor symmetrical,
lasting Beauty wanders
away from prescribed uniformity
and the wasted effort of rebellion.
In her,
the dynamism of bliss.
Fires consume obstacles, illusions
becoming the skeletons
of lace wings
honored in their sculptural ephemera;
in the end, they flutter,
blown free by gently pressed lips.
Light stretches into full expression,
at ease,
with plenty of room
to move.
20 Monday Oct 2014
The pain life delivers carves us out, making space for an unalterable joy and a shareable wisdom, riches fed by both understanding and gratitude. If we let fear dam that transformative river, we can not embody our own power or light. The photographer not wanting to be seen, the poet feeling unheard, the model believing herself ugly, the lawyer not finding justice in her own life- we learn through what draws us. Within our challenges lie our gifts, and what seems a curse is often our blessing. Can’t walk the line without seeing ourselves and with undeveloped sight we are sleepwalking- lost not only to ourselves but to the world. Without celebrating our own Being the world becomes a little dimmer. By looking into the pain, whatever it may be, and sitting with the fear, we can rise above what diminishes us, and expand into being deeply present, inspired, spirited, instinctual, intuitive and alive. Let that be the enviable courage.
16 Thursday Oct 2014
With your hand
touching my skin,
I see-
I hold the fire.
Through dulled eyes of regret
my passion seems especially alluring.
The spark you seek,
another can not give you,
And mine’s neither for sale,
nor being offered.
Your pain, that of faltering flame,
requires your own tender attention
to feed it
with the missing joy you look outward to find.
Tend your own fire,
no one else can.
17 Wednesday Sep 2014
There is a dance here
Between getting what we want
And not.
Often, not serves up the wonder-
What’s a life that goes to plan?
Uncreative, controlled, missing the unexplained sparks,
a parched abiding, inviting scant vision, inside an airless cave.
Blasting past the walls
Free falling-
Rather to have an unexpected journey than the tourist package-
Come
Dig in
We’ll get messy together.
16 Tuesday Sep 2014
I am the horse
being broken
back into the wild.
Forced bit
drops wet from mouth,
metal clanking,
rolling in dirt,
Reins under hoof,
Saddle scraped off
at the last tree..
Picking up
speed and spirit,
mane flying with wind and sky-
No destination
Clear vision
Feral reclamation.
11 Thursday Sep 2014
A loss
A becoming
A walking away
The opening into…
Ruins of the expected,
tatters of the uninvited-
materials for another’s build.
Destruction,
this razing, a forgotten call heard-
Void,
her all,
Now.
These palms, soft cups of sky,
await
not only unstoppable but
full ocean strength.
Mystic union.
Awe of the inexplicable,
untraceable connection
–
This fig. With the plucking of this fig-
Initiation.
Salt, Smoke, Water and Stone 