Circles of Life

No beginning,

no real end,

around we go

again and again.

No thing is created,

nor ever truly destroyed.

All comes back, newly restored.

We say goodbye,

only to soon again say hi.

The illusion of lost,

it feels so real;

yet, is such a lie.

Bonds are never broken,

no way,

no how.

“‘Tis the truth,” they say,

those who have woken,

who heed the subtle cues

and disorienting déjà vu;

those who can see through and beneath,

well beyond this realm,

who venture down deep,

then back up to tell

the Story of Life,

its circular path

of ash from ash,

of I in you and you in me

and Life’s beautiful infinity.

“The story of life is quicker than the wink of an eye, the story of love is hello and goodbye…until we meet again.” ― Jimi Hendrix

 

 

 

The Children

20 November 2016,

it is Universal Children’s Day.

And so, I pause

take time

to breathe

to pray.

So much inside,

I want to bring out,

to display-

especially,

given the climate

of our present day,

where our children

are forced a diet

of intolerance and hate.

How do we teach our children well

in this painful realm?

How do we speak of

the rights of the child

when rights in general

appear in such peril?

We can,

indeed we simply must

do

be

better

for the Little Ones

who look up to us

with such innocence,

such tender and abiding

trust.

They are our teachers,

the children we bear,

holding us accountable

for all we say we value,

the principals we purportedly

hold so very near and dear.

Little mirrors,

our children,

the opportunity

to either see

their reality

and respond accordingly-

or ignore,

leave our mess

in their hands

for remedies to explore.

Either the chain continues,

or we

destroy.

 

 

 

 

 

Friday

Whoa!

Another week

has passed

so quick,

so fast

at a pace,

I can’t seem to grasp!

One minute, it is Monday-

the thought: how will I last?

The next minute, Friday,

relief, some time to relax!

Bittersweet is

the end of the week.

Some joy,

some pain.

Many questions

remain:

Did I get

what I was to learn?

Did I summon

enough nerve

to truly serve?

Where did I grow?

Where was maturation slowed?

What parts of me

do I transform and release?

Next breath never guaranteed,

nor is any day of next week.

It’s Friday,

the day to savor

the short respite,

to pivot

and change perspective.

Go in,

give in,

make way and waves;

like a voodoo chile

filled with Light and smiles

play and create-

these are the mandates

of

Fridays.

God (Chapter One)

In stillness

is

God.

Nowhere and everywhere

is

God.

Belonging to no one,

yet to everyone

is

God.

Praised and despised

is

God.

Loved and feared

is

God.

Within and without

lives

God.

Savior, Tormentor

Father, Mother

Teacher, Friend

is all

God.

The Alpha,

The Omega,

The Eternal I am,

is

God.

From ash to ash.

from dust to dust,

is

us.

 

 

Prodigal: A Portrait in Words

The middle child,

the second

in a Girl Tribe

made of three;

born into a

matriarchal family.

She has a

distinct,

special pedigree.

A quintessential

Scorpio, She is

often perceived

aloof,

not so easy to know.

One minute,

She herself

to others

shows;

and the next-

poof

off She goes,

traveling into

that sublime mind,

not intending

to be cruel and unkind-

unless betrayed

or played,

then out comes

the devastating hand grenades!

Beware of the Scorpio sting,

her bite

her weapon

to protect

her gentle heart,

her sensitive skin.

A relatively quiet Soul,

this one as Prodigal

privately known-

a familial moniker

for this magical

misunderstood

wanderer.

Many secrets

held tight

under her beautiful exterior.

To unlock,

to enter her interior,

sustained trust,

an absolute must!

Once inside,

much and rich

treasures to find-

fierce loyalty,

staunch integrity,

stunning efficiency,

endless creativity.

So blessed am I

to take this life’s journey

with She,

to walk together

hand in hand,

feet to feet!

 

Sculpture by American-born British sculptor Sir Jacob Epstein.

Poem dedicated to my beloved sister, Prodigal – much love and many thanks!

 

Silence

Ah…

quiet,

absolute,

delicious

silence.

Thank you Lord!

Not a sound,

no one around.

What sweet bliss

is this!

A calm

washes over me,

a deep peace,

one that surpasses

all human understanding.

I am home-

free at last-

miles away from

that urban storm.

Breath,

now comes easily.

The eyes,

they see more clearly.

The heart,

from which inspiration flows,

softens, expands, slows.

The ears sigh,

relieved, they smile.

I feel me

coming back

to me-

returning to love

refilling,

replenishing.

I am me

again!