29 Friday Apr 2016
A watermelon, round.
A sword,
heavy-hilted, ornate, decisive.
Raise the blade,
two-handed,
and drop sharp steel through rind,
flesh,
rind;
Sacrifice the god of nice.
Free her from the bondage
of acceptable mediocrity.
Spill seed,
honor sweet juice.
Initiate of destruction-
break open the tidy container
or
she will rot,
denied of her original gift.
This inborn generosity
invites feast.
Fill your belly.
19 Tuesday Apr 2016
The most dangerous words
she spoke-
“…but he has a really good heart”-
a knife
cutting her own heart out
in sacrifice to his.
A ritual, repeated,
a trance-beat of the drum
thrum pum,
only not for something holy, as imagined,
but for destruction.
The cold knife now shattered-
dropped gleefully from great height-
is planted in pieces in the mosaic garden.
Among lush green and fiery blooms,
metal glints in sun’s eye
as earthly reminder.
24 Thursday Mar 2016
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.
15 Tuesday Mar 2016
I am not your secret,
a thimble to tuck in a pocket.
Entire universes buck
at being diminished thus.
Fires rage, planets tremble,
stars burst into being.
If contracting a life into bite-size squares
soothes your longing,
please chop yourself to pieces instead.
Thimbles protect.
Creation expands…
30 Thursday Jan 2014
About:
Rooted, embodied, bound, nourished.
In.
Grace, the Infinite, artful movement, the expression of silence.
A gathering of the ephemeral and the limitless.
A medicine of word.
Welcome. Your presence, and any comments you may offer, are a gift.
Reproduction or use of any of the materials on this site are by permission only. Please send an email if interested~
rootedingracemedicineofword@gmail.com
In gratitude…
Salt, Smoke, Water and Stone 