Category Archives: dark

Wake up!

09 Monday May 2016

Posted by in adventure, becoming, change, courage, dark, death, devotion, fearlessness, freedom, learning, Love, movement, night, poems, poetry, release, strength

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the first memory,
a fear of ghosts,
might choke you in your sleep.
wake up.
one step forward with a little foot
and another,
and another with your foot, not so small-
recall your body
to pierce darkness inhabited
by the terrifying,
and purposely forgotten.
wake up!
repossess what’s yours, kid.
throw your little arms out into night’s gullet,
rid the rotting presence rising
from beyond the grave.
we’ll approach together.
your journey neither begins
nor ends
trembling in a spindle bed
below third floor timbers,
its vacancy above met
by broad staircase
channeling
down
what no one else will face.

One day, she runs.

07 Saturday May 2016

Posted by in adventure, beauty, becoming, courage, dark, death, Deliverance, devotion, Expanse, family, fearlessness, freedom, Infinite, joy, Love, loving, movement, mystery, naked, nature, night, poems, poetry, Run, strength, the road, transition

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In the dark unfolding familiar

and friendless place

where place began,

a necessary and

deceptive

seed was planted.

Nourishing form, forgetting spirit,

growing grew and suckers spread.

A viral overload threatened.

Silently

soil

fed

resistance.

Until…

 

One day,

she runs.

From sick enclosure out into night,

thinly covered,

taking nothing, no shoes,

she bolts in a snap of a now! beyond

hallways, doors, gates,

with pounding heart, searchlight eyes, flying hair,

bare feet slapping pavement,

escaping by back ways known

intimately as the corners of her old room.

Rushing behind houses, through hedges,

ducking limbs, all chance of observance

and grabbing dominion.

Outside the limits,

with no objects to keep her,

by her own deliverance

she finds

her true way Home.

Your next offering

24 Thursday Mar 2016

Posted by in abundance, becoming, change, crafting, dark, devotion, discomfort, Expanse, loving, movement, mystery, poems, poetry, release, strength, vision

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When things fall apart,

rest.

Pieces

litter the floor,

and probably your heart.

Let them.

A new equilibrium

finds itself

in the passing of light into dark

and back again.

Art gives time

another meaning.

The brokennesses-

curious remnants of another life-

are nothing.

Simply raw material

for the most exquisite

mosaic

and

your next offering

of soul.

Searing darkness

17 Thursday Mar 2016

Posted by in abundance, dark, discomfort, listen, loving, movement, night, poems, poetry, Sight, strength, transition

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How searing the Darkness.

Sights, dismissed, rise

through earthquaking uplift,

making smaller even

the microstrains of normalcy.

Withholding time from the forgotten,

the never known,

ends

when what had been thrown aside speaks,

“I am you.”

Thank the breath still given and

every fiber of your being

for the strength

to bring the orphaned and hated and dispossessed

close enough

to see the pain in their eyes,

and to assemble what Light

does soothe.

Brighter the light

12 Friday Feb 2016

Posted by in becoming, courage, dark, devotion, fearlessness, honoring, learning, listen, loving, mystery, poems, poetry, receiving, release, wonder, work

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Brighter the light
darker the shadow.
Those denying what lurks inside them
can never hold the full hand of another.
Nor bring what moves them
entirely
into the open.
I invite you
to wonder
at what shame tugs
within your unexplored territories,
and to coax that frightened being
back
into your own arms.

Undertow

25 Monday Jan 2016

Posted by in abundance, beauty, becoming, change, courage, dark, discomfort, honoring, learning, movement, mystery, poems, poetry, presence, transition, work

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Between here and there
a stumble-
regret, fear, misunderstanding-
and dark becomes a sinkhole,
sky sucking through earth.
The holding fire remains in shadow,
seemingly doused,
for a time
while overhead and underfoot tangle
grip and pull
the many faces of you alone.
In a panic-replacing sigh,
a morning stretch and a here-we-go
momentum of lost space stirs
rich waters.
Silent sparks rise-
a new something takes form.
The undertow may carry promise yet…

Rising center

16 Saturday Jan 2016

Posted by in becoming, change, courage, dark, devotion, discomfort, freedom, honoring, listen, movement, mystery, nature, poems, poetry, transition

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So you really never fit,
and now it’s more of a really really.
Shrug it off-
not fitting frees the exploring soul.
Neither want nor need nor longing, but
a deep call for rest
surfaces
through songs your bones sing,
once the clattering night noise settles,
in twists of incense smoke,
a meeting of damp earth and bare toes,
between falling canyon air and sun up,
and mountain lion’s lingering musk.
You’re in the wash,
a cycle of agitation.
Finding rising center means
letting it drop in
to find you.

Them

11 Monday Jan 2016

Posted by in becoming, courage, dark, devotion, fearlessness, freedom, gratitude, honoring, listen, movement, mystery, poems, poetry, the road, vision, wonder, work

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The sensitives,
the permeable, the dancers, the strong,
knowers of medicine,
open-eyed dreamers,
familiars of the taste of tears,
hearts wounded in ache of loss
buoyantly loving all the same..
whose laughter is song,
whose feet go bare,
who chew leaves and talk with hawks,
whose ocean tides move both blood and moon,
ones as fiery in temperament as in flame,
courtiers of the unknown,
inviters of ancestors,
those who were a problem, a scapegoat,
an assigned patient…
The sensuous.
Creators and celebrators of beauty.
The manifest.
You.
Come.
We will follow the dark of our bodies
along serpentine trails
into growing light.

 

 

*with special thank you to James Hillman.

Ask them to tea

19 Thursday Nov 2015

Posted by in abundance, becoming, change, courage, dark, devotion, discomfort, dread, freedom, gratitude, honoring, learning, listen, movement, pain, poems, poetry, release, strength, wonder

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Shame is a dark and sticky thing.

A hole we never see.

A bottomless, unnameable void.

It snatches us in the unlit alleys of our minds.

Ghastly,

what it thinks it can make us do-

shrink ourselves to the smallest brittleness

of an undesirable,

worthless,

lifeless

outcast

who cannot get anything right.

Immense power we give to one with no hands,

no face,

not even a nose.

And, how lucky we are

to have the nerve

to turn and look,

to sniff,

to get to know

the lurking bogeymen, the paralyzing Medusas,

behind the fence

and around the bend.

Come, come-

Let us ask them to tea

to learn what it is

they really want.