I Open

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My heart is a sunflower.
I open to the light.
I take it in, turning to face my gift.
I stare at it in the face,
bouncing like a puppy
with sloppy big feet.
I breathe in and out.
I focus on the good,
leaving what doesn’t serve behind.
I watch. It goes through me
Like a wave. Colors changing
like the season. Some call it energy.
Breath. Life. Sunshine.
The golden thread of the victorious.
I know I am made in tiny bits
of all those things.
I see my shadow behind me
I salute it. (Although secretly sometimes
I’d rather it went away.)
I bend in the wind swaying.
Thankful I have roots.
My mind alights and soars.
I bring it back in
like a kite to center.
I hold it most lovingly.
I tell that little voice to shush.
Knowing it won’t be the last cry.
I want to hear the deep voice beyond.
It is the wind playing in the grasses.
The waves washing on the shore
The thunder beating in the skies.
It is the opening of a flower
The gaze of a child,
unquestioning, always there,
always changing.
It is time to go.
I fold myself into the night.
Bobbing to the pulse of the great beyond.

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Ardently burns the little flame

WolfShine your light into the darkness.
Behold the flickering
fall of shadows.
Echoing and thinning
booming and blossoming.
Their dance brings you back to the sacred circle.

Ardently burns the little flame.
Candid, as a rose, she opens your heart.
You stand beneath the trees.
Whisper into the wild cold of the night.
Stars tingle. Owls hoot.
In awe, each moment, a little deeper
you find your journey.

Sing into your light

 

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Sing into the deep December darkness.

Sing into your light.

Walk, one footstep at a time,

into your heart.

Feel the pulsing beat.

Know that you are alive.

Smile because it’s a gift.

Skip because deep down you

still are a child.

Look up, see the moon, the stars,

the forest, the mountains, and the ocean.

Thank them deeply: they are a part of you.

Embrace all of creation, every being,

every human, and animal.

Soothe your caustic tongue.

Walk deeper and past, out of anger.

Feel the love, the deep appreciation,

the belonging of one and all.

I received a gift of heaven

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I received a gift of heaven
wrapped in glowing light.
Within it breathes in silent wonder.
With each breath it connects me more deeply to mystery.
Waves transport me, dark and warm,
mauve tones of rose,
unfurling with passion
in regions of my soul.

To connect with myself in my heart.
Through my outspread body.
Knowing that I am my higher self.
That I carry a spirit within.
A gift that develops faith
and trust in the process
of continually being in the present.
Being in love.
With myself. With the divine
Being harbored in my womb,
This kernel of pulsating life.
* * *
Stripped
the onion unrolls
its fine pink shell
made of tears.
It sings into the earth
a song of beginnings
and arduous passages.
It harbors small forms
wings of angels.
Arching deep opalescence.
The surrender of
small fish rising from silver waters.
• • •
I look into the big void.
Sometimes there an echo resounds.
Casting names yet unknown.
Shadows foretelling movement.
A stronghold of life.

The smell of rain unfolds around me.
In the stillness: a pounding heartbeat.
Like galloping horses.
African violets continue to bloom.
I think of matter borne into dust.
Particles into particles,
Flesh building in blood simple facets.
A mystery so old
It holds me locked in silent wonder.

* * *
Silver fish spurt in droplets
from sidewalk puddles.
I sit and sift strands of feelings,
from my womb to my heart and back.
I hear an echo.
A mysterious mermaid,
a siren in the still deep.
I listen for its call.
It resonates with the crescent moon.
Alongside still water
a shadow casts its beauty in silhouette.
How can one voice be so pure?
I follow the movement of the heart-opening notes.
Hands united in prayer,
I sing my song to all the goddesses.
To the angel wings, feathering.
To flowers and animal spirits.

In meditation I saw
Deer, wolf, lion and whale.
Each mothering me.
Each showing me the way.

One gentle and fierce nuzzle
at a time.

Three-part movement

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Heart.
Carnation rose –
unfurling being,
rings the bell of images,
beholding memory.

Dewdrops of saffron light
sing in the echo;
the rising source,
pure, subliminal, ever-present.

A wondering wish
of wild revelry.
The reckless dreamer
gazes into the blue beyond.

Rhythm.
Unlike the steadiness of beat.
Rather the varying harmony of waves
washing the shore,
from hushed brushes,
to crashing tides.

Or the sacred proportion within
a fern unfolding,
Spiraling in golden unity –
its green-apple transparency against the rays of sun.

A visual graph marking,
in progression,
the irregular order of the cosmos.

Trust.
A symphony in endless acts.
As long as life.
My work in progress.

Sleeves folding back repeatedly.
Breathing.
Allowing the process to happen.
Acknowledging the other.
Saying yes to being.
Knowing that I am enough.
Smiling when I get off balance.

With each turn, the core
opens, in contrast of light and shadow,
a little more, exposed.

The fire was stolen

Wonder by Alex Grey

The fire was stolen
from the gods.
In its embers I saw a glowing universe.
Form and emptiness. Matter and spirit.
The eyes of the soul.

I sat on top of the world
Beneath the light of the full moon,
its light spreading.

In the silence, before the open temple
I found myself, the form of many truths,
the twinkle of my own star.

I penetrated the world I know viscerally.
From cell to cosmos.
Finding boundaries.
Overcoming thresholds.

Spirals of rainbows unfurled
inward and out.
From man to temple,
into the surrounding effigies.

A world unspoken
that lies between layers
of ethereal realities.

I sang my song in the stillness,
saw energy move in ancient gestures.

At sunrise I found laughter
resonating in my belly.

The echo of creation,
and the universe’s wink.
Sleep a long forgotten sister.

I plodded the sand, the whiteout,
the open loudness
in search of peace.

I stared my discomfort
and fear in the face.
Every time I closed my eyes
visions fought to hold on
to my tired mind.
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