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.
beauty
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!
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?
humanity
most times
i find
humanity
perplexing
what we do
to ourselves
and to each other
and to the whole of
Nature
perplexing
utterly
and saddening
still
bits of Light
shimmering
when and where
the I can see
RED
Mixed emotions,
my relationship with Red–
the color of
sensuality and menstruation-
of sin and punishment-
as I was taught.
Red did not hide-
neither docile nor shy.
Red, to me,
embodied extroversion-
loud and insufferable!
Beginning,
in the latter chapter of life,
to warm to Red some-
to appreciate her contours
and taste her complexity.
She’s beckoning me, Red–
an invitation to finally
stand
firmly
in my Power.
“It’s always been there,”
Red says.
The Beat of One’s Own Drums
to march to the beat of
One’s Own Drums,
to imitate no one,
to innovate
from a place of deep faith
and confidence-
such a mandate
is not for
the faint
in Heart.
it takes courage
to be free,
to be the You
that often only You can see,
to be unique, a bit of a mystique
in a world of followers and shamers.
we were made in God’s image,
reflections of The Divine, The Most High
one and onlys are we –
wonderfully crafted
for a specific purpose and time.
the sake of humanity pleads:
spread your considerable wings!
march to the beat of your very own drums!
no need to compete,
there is more than enough room
for everyone.
Artwork: Walking the Line, Edwin Lester @artistedlester
Loaded Head
where is my Heart in the Moment?
what does It wish to express?
what needs to come up
to come out,
to be said,
seen,
and lovingly released?
i feel no thing,
which can mean
numbness or peace,
cold apathy
or searing heat.
“just leave Me be!”
The Heart begs,
“focus on this Moment instead.
live outside your loaded head.”
Silence is A Song
Sometimes
silence
speaks louder
than words.
So much
can be heard
listening
from the space
that binds
the human race.
Energy feels more
poignant
in deep silence;
vocabulary is more expanded.
Silence is not the
absence of sound,
no, more the concentration
of the profound.
An unmasking of sorts,
in silence,
we stand in the nude-
fully exposed-
nowhere to hide
nowhere to go-
a straight line
in lieu of
a circuitous route
A-sexual
A-sexual,
this is what
it can feel like
to be menopausal.
What use to be
exquisitely
sensitive
has deadened.
no amount of
stimulation
will it
reawaken.
not one for
medication,
I bide my time
with
meditation.
Such is Life:
The Lord giveth
and He taketh
away and then
returneth
another day,
as per
His Way.
An Untold Story
buried deep
inside,
a part of self
wishing only
to hide,
preferring to
“live”
a lie.
how to see
it
let alone speak
it–
that,
which altered
a Life.
innocence
forever lost,
a new trajectory
is now forced.
but not
without
a heavy cost.
one can only run
from The Truth
but so far
before it
festers and scars.
An untold story
will travel from life to life,
causing all matters
of angst and strife
until it is
revealed,
brought
finally
to the Light.
burgeoninc 