three Little Birds
perched
on the Naked Tree.
the Tree
anchored
to a sheet of
white ice.
the Sky
so clear
and bright,
it startles the Eyes.
the Eyes
attached
to the human
being
intently watching,
closely listening,
slowly re-membering.
relationships
a child at play
I am
a child
at play,
blissfully oblivious
to the perceived madness
“out there”.
In my imagination
I dwell
touching Earth 🌎
and Sky 🙏
No war in here,
nothing to fight for.
No hatred,
only true Love.
Generosity always,
in lieu of greed’s
incessant needs.
So bright,
exquisitely simple,
where I play.
Ease-full
especially when
the discomforts come.
CommUnity,
where I play.
It’s a small
intimate world 🌎
We know
see
hear
heal
tend to
each other.
Not Perfection –
far from it –
we are children
after all!
In our play Ground,
chaos joyfully dances 💃
with Innocence!
We are children
at play!
Come,
now,
join us!
All are welcome!
Message Blocking is Active
blocked 🚫
mere months
after The Transition
of he who was The Force
keeping family afloat,
tethered,
ever so delicately.
without him,
shedding,
the masks came off,
niceties abandoned.
“Love” disintegrated
to the point of blocking 🚫
take nothing personally.
still, sad,
feels abrasive,
like a middle finger 🖕
borne of deep hurt
a sense of disrespect,
expectations unmet.
The Circle 🔵 dwindling
by death
and, now, blocks 🚫
everything
so tender,
tenuous,
ephemeral.
stay true
“You go deep,”
they said,
surprised.
“Yes!”
I replied.
They weren’t ready
for My Depth.
I stay true.
There is a they
waiting
for me.
Thresholds & Gates
“How is Guirlaine?”
He, the CEO,
asked
her,
who formerly
engaged
weekly
with Guirlaine.
He was to do so now.
But He
seemingly
forgot
about
Guirlaine,
allowing her to
drift,
dis-engage,
become
more and more
untethered,
free
to explore
other realms & possibilities,
to consider
Thresholds & Gates,
and play in
The Liminal.
All is well.
All in Divine Order.
out of Sight, out of Heart
I forgot about you,
kidnapped
“living” underground
for years
amid “strangers” –
fellow humans
traumatized
traumatizing
using you
as mere means to a bitter end
playing a destructive game
of cat & mouse
in an endless cycle of
tit for tat.
I forgot about you
focused on the thousands
above ground
having their ground
children
lives
shattered to pieces
relentlessly
by the traumatized
traumatizing.
I could see them.
I couldn’t see you.
Out of sight,
Out of Heart,
I learned
about self –
humbled,
horrified,
human.
Beauty in The Bleakness
marveling at the resplendent Peacock 🦚
its extra-ordinary ability to in-gest
poison
and trans-form it into breathtaking, awe-inspiring Beauty.
reminds me of the Lotus 🪷
thriving in bleak
muddy waters 💧
ah, the lessons nature teaches
when we choose to slow down
listen intently,
look up & down & all around carefully,
really lean into
the Totality of Life,
this Moment,
each other.
opportunities abound everywhere
to trans-form the perceived mess and chaos
into gentle medicine for all;
into something vastly different than we’ve ever experienced –
more relevant, courageous, mature, and equitable.
there is unimaginable Beauty in this bleakness.
can you feel it?
Yolanda
“Are you homeless?”
she asked,
penetrating my self immersion.
“No, why?
I responded, a tad vexed.
“Because of your bag,”
she said,
pointing to the shopping cart
I was wheeling behind me.
“I am homeless,”
she shared.
I stopped,
emerged from my shell.
We stood
face to face
under a first quarter moon,
meeting each other.
Yolanda was her name –
engaging,
loquacious,
deeply rooted in her faith,
enamored of the Celestial Realms.
She spoke of harrowing experiences in the local shelters,
of the inconsiderate and dangerous conditions –
especially
for a woman
alone.
Just a year ago,
Yolanda had a home,
a husband,
was employed with a car.
A divorce rendered her without,
leading to her sleeping
outside
for the first time
on a frigid and blustery night.
Yolanda alluded to
grown children,
yet gave thanks
only to the kind strangers
who kept her fed
and still alive.
“I will pray for you,”
I offered humbly.
And I have,
and will continue to
pray for Yolanda
and all in our human family
on their own
out
in the bitter cold.
This is not the way it’s supposed to be!
We are each other’s keeper!
Indeed, we are each other!
When did we forget this?
No mere coincidence,
my time with Yolanda.
Divinely orchestrated,
potent seeds planted.
An assignment awaits.
Grace
we fall down
and we get up
we fall asleep
and we wake up
back and forth
up and down
the spectrum of consciousness
we go
round and round
the cycle of unwellness
until
sometimes quite suddenly
a shift
from deep Within
Grace
a gentle beckoning
to another
completely different
way
The Wisdom of Innocence
she teaches me –
my Little Niece–
a Guru from the day we met –
months into a pandemic.
she taught me
then
the feel of unadulterated Love –
startling in its immediacy and potentcy!
she continues to exemplify
curiosity and Surrendered play.
Innocence demands cultivating
patience and acceptance;
necessitates
being
there
fully
now
in Its Presence.
Innocence is exquisitely perceptive –
cannot hide for long
behind the “adult” masks.
she humbles me,
de-constructs me,
my Little Niece.
forever grateful 🙏
forever changed 🙏
burgeoninc 