the Red Cardinal and the Blue Jay…

they held time

bending air

if only a few seconds

hovering

the length of their wingspan

chest to chest

wide open and roaring

as if the twisting of flames

to lay claim their truth

an undeniable totem

so beautiful a rare moment…

 and suddenly there we were

you and I

suspended and stilled

secret and lies

truth and clarity

a spiritual silence 

 a warring awakening

…nothing and everything

I have really stepped away from writing for quite sometime now. It’s not an intentional thing, rather I just found myself distant from my writing self. Perhaps I created these heavy barriers!  My fears spoke a little while back, I was paralyzed for a few minutes in the space of a few minutes, and that fear ultimately pushed me into a silence I no longer care to fucking endure. Of course there are more reasons I care not to reveal but let me say it is/has been a rough path I wander. I know now why I have gone this way…I do so for growth, truth, clarity, because it is a necessary process, the kind where towers collaspe, the truth of the weak foundation exposed, the kind where I welcome the shedding of old skin, ridding the dust that has settled inbetween the cracks of all the previous years. Despite the overwhlming ache and pain, in the deepest part of my soul, this shedding comes regardless. All these dark layers, the wastelands that are uncovered, they are the fuel for a beautiful propulsion through an opening in the veil. I gratefully, achefully, painfully, knee-deep and drowing, wade through it all. I don’t want to go back to the other side, the side faded of the truth of me. So I let the vapor overtake and permeate, the ghosts care not to stay here in this atmosphere. This valley I look out into and walk through is for the greatest reason and that greatest reason is always for LOVE…a love beyond the limitations of our human mind. It starts within! A deeper, slow growing seed, watered for longer than a millennia, or more, and often again and again!

The poem is not necessarily speaking of the field I have been in. And yet is so true to form in my writing. Multiple layers weaved through simple words as the humaness of me and the spiritual inner knowing of me soaks into and colors the pages. I never see it until later afte r the writing is down on the page.

This morning during my walk I realized how much I miss the poetess in me. I feel more beautiful, as if she is the only truth to me, but I know I am she and she is me! I am many parts of a whole…some parts lay stilled, far away, seperated from me/she (That is a longer story!)

Anyway, this morning during my walk I knew I needed to bring back my breath, open my heart again, break free from self-imposed chains of expectations that have failed to come true. So after my walk, when sharing space with my granddaugter and one of my beautiful daughters, we sat quiet as the music played. I was relaxed and at peace, content for the gentle moment. I could feel the energy building, the words daring to writhe to the surface. A hunger…a knowing

Music is a muse that manifests poetry from a deep place in me. I always feel I am reminisceing of earlier lifetimes when writing. Often I stare out the window and let the sound move through me. That is just the dancer in me…lost in the rythmn and it was in that moment, lost for a few seconds, that suddenly a flash of blue and red flew by my window. And there they were, the cardinal and the blue jay, stilled, as if time stopped or at least slowed, wings wide spread, chest to chest, a beautiful war, a beautiful dance…

And, so very reminiscent of the many shades and shapes of us, my love!

 

sequence of woman…

Could she be anymore feminine than now

holding a tiny mouth to her breast

I dare not disrupt beauty

heart sighs

love beating deeply

a mask I have seen

 I have worn 

contented 

pure joy

speaking silence

 a secret language

glance between

mother and child…

 

I am, still

woman and mother

of dust and energy

water and synchronicity

breath and blood

as stars above

and below the ground

mystery and wonder

cocooned art

love comes first

from within where life grows

and carriers born of that womb

repeat the same sequence…

 

woman to mother to woman

 

 

 

 

 

 

in the midst of resting…

There is something healing about stepping back, stepping away, looking in another direction, laying down the heavy baggage and resting. I suppose I am still in the midst of such a respite. It has been, and still is emotionally tumultous but I wouldn’t change a thing! I know it is for my greatest good. I recognize the synchronicities, feel the abundance welling within…I know it leads to everything good and just, and is divinely guided.

I’m not haunted. I’m no longer running from nor chasing ghosts. I’m setting them free! Yet, I will never forget the beauty of each shiver, every lick of the whip, every whisper of deeply held pain! I ask that it stays cleaved to me so that I might never forget, to remember, to understand what others go through, to give my experience and my pain a voice, and to say to those in similar territories…”I know!” “I understand!” “I feel you!””I see you!”

How can I explain this journey? The path only illuminated by faith! The details unbelievable…unexplainable! To tell my truth, this unfathomable truth will come if only I never resist. The words will come when they are ready. I know my heart is healing, and it is a living, breathing, beautiful entity to carry within my chest. And my soul? Oh my ancient beautiful soul…”I know!” “I understand!” “I feel you!” “I see you!”

 

have you considered…

why do some take their tenderness away

like a magician disappearing an object (or a human)

its there and then it’s not

or at least the illusion of it first being there

I suppose there are varied reason

but the one that keeps coming to mind,

tenderness leaves because giving it

no longer serves the “self” purpose

no longer to gain from giving

Yes, I believe that in many instances

this tenderness/kindness disappearing act is necessary

to move beyond being stuck

or to open oneself for something better

or to walk away from a negative situation (such as abuse!!!)

but have you considered

what if the situation was that the other person or thing

needed more of your tenderness

kindness

time

what if the setting aside of the ego

for the sake of another

was truly the path needed taking

what if

just what if

the lesson was you had to give

a little bit more

or a little longer

to have not better

but rather have extraordinary

>>>>>>this is a hard line to consider<<<<<<

when to give nor not

stay or leave

especially when humans are so self-serving

self-preserving

rash

So yes, sometimes we must save ourselves

 

yet, sometimes the other person

needed us more

sometimes they needed our light

 

 

 

 

 

Yesterday’s afternoon…

what a wonderful soul
to say openly of his struggle
to speak of his comeback
fire took his belongings 
try to turn his spirit to dead ash
yet he in his depressed stillness 
found a quiet strength 
and is on the rise once more
what a lovely man
the gentle vulnerability 
I find in his manner
refreshing ease
evident in our conversation
as we spoke briefly of life 
and its tough delivery

*This man will never know how I see him. He will never know I write of him today. And if I should see him again I will smile for rare is such raw and exposing honesty. My heart appreciates these kind of moments and people such as he. 

my yesterday morning; little acts of human kindess…alive & beautiful breathing things!

She is a lovely boisterous joy of sunshine! Always walking her poodle and always a little out breath! She is a restless creature and her laughter infectious! You can’t help but smile and giggle with her when she comes around. I had one such occasion yesterday morning when I walked around my desk to see her opening the foyer door. Her face lit up with a bright smile and I couldn’t help but smile, when she said, “Oh Melissa, good morning!” I asked how she was doing and as always she answered, “I am wonderful!” Yes, she is! She loves the morning hours because it is cooler, and loves to walk around the fish pond! Now as we were talking, her sweet poodle decide to use the concrete sidewalk to lay its business rather than the grass. And kept laying its business again and again.  (Apparently the dog had a really good meal the night before) On the same sidewalk other visitors use to enter the building. 

She apologized, said the she and dog had t-bone steak last night and perhaps it was a little too rich for her dog. She informed me not worry, that she would clean it up and began to clean up the mess. Very quickly I realized that amout of cleaning up was not going to be done with just tissue! Lol…

I went inside and grabbed paper towels and started filling a pitcher full of water… As I was walking back towards the door, she called to me and started asking me if she could have paper towels as she was asking for paper towels, I was holding  out my hand full of paper towels! She couldnt believe it…”How did you know?” She asked!  I just giggled and said I had a feeling it was going to require water and paper towels to clean it up! “Oh thank you so much Melissa!” She kept thanking me. I was glad to help her but also because I knew I couldn’t leave that kind of mess on the sidewalk that vistors use!

So there I was pouring water on the spots that remained and she wiping the sidewalk. We could help but laugh at the situation. It took pitcher after pitcher of water but eventually it was clean enough! I gave her a trash bag for the used paper towels! Oh my what a mess! Yet in the end, it didnt matter the mess. It was one person helping another. And two people helping and receiving help, with a smile and a giggle! 

She appreciated the help. Told me to come see her later she wanted to give me something.  I told her it was just part of my job. She laughed and said, No! Your job is not to pick up my dog’s poop!” I told her it was a jointed effort that benefited both of us…And with that we went back to our day. 

A few hours later with that same smile  but now with magenta color lipstick , she walked into the reception area, handed me a bouquet of flowers and pumpkin macadamia nut cookies.  I was astounded! How long has it been since I’ve been given flowers or anything for that matter? I am so grateful for her precious laugh and smile, and her gift of beautiful flowers…little acts of human kindess are alive and beautiful breathing things!

in the middle of the work day…

She wore the kind of exterior, that spoke of exhaustion. Homesick shadowed underneath her eyes as if home seem impossibly far away.  Her sigh was slow and confused; holding secret pleas for peace and quiet. I wanted to grab her hand as she spoke, her voice a little shaky as if she could just collapse right there on thefloor and sleep for a year. I wanted to tell her the time of rest was near…wrap my arm around her shoulders, hold her up for little awhile. Tiredness being the culprit forming their slump. Heavy was her walk, grabbing her hip as if to will it forward for one more trip into his room. He was abrupt and demanding. Certaintly his attempt to hold on to control as his body was breaking down. She was the epitome of gentle social grace, under the pressure of his inconsiderate manner and poor treatment of others trying to help. My mind understood his frustration of age slowing him, perhaps his ego a little wounded relying on such feminity to aid him in his recovery, yet my heart couldnt help but ache for her; the relentless caregiver, grand gesture of devotion of a wife, to swallow her pain behind a smile. As I watched her walk out the door, in the middle of my work day, I think i saw her walk a little straighter and a little faster as the sunlight graced her face. I understand the restorative power of its warmth. I imagined as she slipped between the sheets on her side of the bed tonight she would remember the warmth of the sun and feel for a fraction of moment…warmth of peace spread across her chest.