always so activating,
the summer months,
for me:
so much skin exposed,
flesh seemingly everywhere-
breasts
legs
midriffs
butt checks-
all as overwhelming
and stifling
as the humidity
and the heat
and that inner voice
incessant speak:
“cover up and hide,
yours is not a body
for display to the outside.”
humanity
Love, Now
In BeLoved relationship
now –
menopausal,
modern elder,
refined lines,
silvered hair.
More touch craved.
Intimacy curated.
Explorations of re-membered Souls.
Wanderings taken through dilated minds
and in bodies made soft, delicate
by the passage of time.
With gentle intentionality,
fierce penetration
catharsis
synchronization
of Hearts broken wide open repeatedly.
Conversations – rich, infinite, deep
while the wondrous sea
teases our entangled feet.
Meandering walks in The Untamed Woods,
silently communicating
as Kindreds are wont to do.
Nourished by
succulent food,
mystical tonics,
wild-crafted wines,
quiet evenings spent
luxuriously entwined
in sheer awe of The Big Sky.
A taste of Blessed Divinity at play:
you were always coming my way,
and I
preparing for you,
my wildest dreams
come true.
Marie’s Lamentation
The Mother gave birth
To three daughters
None of whom
Would ever bore another.
Two of the daughters –
The eldest and the youngest
No longer carry their uterus.
Two surgeries-
The one, reluctant to wake from Anesthesia’s deep slumber.
The other, she almost did not recover.
The only daughter with all organs intact,
Chose to walk a childless path.
The Mother
is sad
heartbroken
grief-ridden.
Blaming herself
for the end of the family line.
No legacy, only perceived decline.
“Why”” she asks, wailing at her Fate.
“Did I
in Life
make a horrendous mistake?”
family
family –
what does this word mean, really?
blood relations?
friendships?
resonance across space & time?
from the Latin word famulus,
denoting servant;
same root as familiar,
yet family can feel
more distant than stranger.
our people, our tribe,
our ride or die –
we so easily say,
but behave
often
in an entirely different way.
loneliness continues to rise
worldwide.
perplexed, we ask why
given so much connectivity.
might it be
because we
forget
how to be
how to do
family?
“Autobiography begins with a sense of being alone. It is an orphan form.”
― John Berger
human
human, you are multitudes –
elegant in essence,
an imperishable scent
and eternal resonance.
malleable and unpredictable;
always
shifting and morphing;
at once,
growing and dying,
unfolding and numbing,
emerging and regressing,
ordinary and exceptional,
embryo and silo;
an assemblage, one and the same –
yet, each unique, many different names.
human, you are
mystical, whimsical
curious, mysterious
practical, laughable
horrible, beautiful
radiant, tarnished
emotional, rational
gifted, stupid
immensely generous
and abundantly selfish;
transcendent and resistant,
so richly nourished
and yet stunningly famished:
trickster and teenager,
sages and fools –
humans, you are all
multitudes.
hold on
i am tired, Lord.
hold on.
hold on for what?
for Me.
i don’t know that i can…
you can; you have.
i am tired, Lord.
I know; hold on.
the white space
the white space
the Silence
in the edges:
an introduction
to further exploration;
deference to that place
of bliss-full ignorance;
a demonstration
of great humility;
a re-minder that
you
are not
exactly
like me;
the space to
debate,
deliberate,
contemplate,
re-evaluate
assumptions long made;
liminal space,
that white space
dwelling
seemingly innocently
in the unchartered edges.
humanity
.
why are we
in such a hurry –
always –
to leave,
to fix,
to judge,
to eat,
to “live”?
.
what is the origin
of the discomfort
to truly lean in,
to listen,
to stay,
to sit,
to be Still
in commUnity?
.
Alas, the contradictions
of a splintered humanity –
we say we crave
companionship,
that we are
profoundly lonely,
yet we tend to
scatter soon after we Gather.
we seem to be able
to contain only so much
life,
love,
time,
energy,
words,
presence,
silence.
.
why?
burgeoninc 