“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.
receptivity
feeding the un-certainty
where does un-certainty
reside in me?
no clarity
here
now.
what color is it,
this tension of un-certainty ?
not sure.
perhaps, butterscotch,
a merging of orange with yellow,
maybe a clue?
the Sacral, to feel,
or solar plexus’ mandate to do?
to only feel
and not to do?
surrender
submerged
feel the body
trans-form
dis-solve
flow
like the sacral waters
re-lease this Soul.
Monday
It is Monday,
a blank page,
a clean slate.
The day to exfoliate,
slough off the old skin,
the things that weigh down
and only deaden.
It is Monday,
the start of a new week,
bringing with it
opportunities to seek
the Light and beauty
in all we meet.
It is Monday,
a day of reflection
to answer the questions
for self-manifestation.
We ponder in silence
asking our God for His Guidance.
My Lord,
what to sow?
who to know?
when to go?
where to grow?
why so slow?
It is Monday,
the time to do over
to try again
for that four-leaf clover.
Another chance
to alter one’s circumstance,
to self-enhance
and awake from long trance.
Penetration
What does it take
to penetrate
the walls you make
for protection’s sake?
How do I get
to you
into you
through you?
What am I to do?
I come,
you run;
I confide,
you hide;
I offer space,
you then hesitate.
What does it take
to penetrate
your mind
your heart
your body
your soul?
How to release
some of that control
to which you hold
as if it is gold?
A body so tight,
a mind attuned to fight
or flight.
Yet, underneath,
I see a spirit
seeking an invite,
desperate for a way out.
When you are ready
to let me in,
to be the feminine
to my masculine,
I’ll come running.
When you are
no longer so scared,
I’ll be there.
When your mighty walls
finally
crumble and fall,
I offer myself
at our beck and call.
Stone Beach
A new treat,
this here, Stone Beach.
Butterflies,
Dragonflies.
With a gentle sweet high,
I am kissing
the brilliant
baby blue sky.
Seagulls,
Marigolds.
I am embraced by the sea’s
gentle pull.
Driftwood,
Seashells.
I fall deeply into
water’s seductive spell.
Inhaling deeply,
I take in the air’s
musky salinity,
mix it with Earth’s grassy femininity.
Senses heightened,
I hear the waves,
my ancestors guiding me
from the grave.
I feel the wind
nibble my skin,
tempering
the sun’s bite and sting.
A Spirit
to me
suddenly
begins to sing.
Inspiration heralding
the birth of another offspring.
The Rainbow
Caught a piece of the rainbow today.
When did such a sight
last come my way?
Cannot recall;
surely I must have been
quite small.
Just as a child,
I now stared wide-eyed
at the pronounced colors
against the stark gray
of the moist sky.
My wonderment I could not disguise!
What a sight:
The Light, One Love
splitting into its many shades above.
So mystical,
the rainbow;
Magical, this great spectacle;
A harbinger of a brighter future.
Eleven Years
On the sixth day in the month of September of the year 2005:
A cell phone rings.
“It is your father,”
says the somber mother
to the busy daughter.
“He has been taken
to hospital…a stroke.”
Eleven years ago,
my Pop transitioned;
he left body
and went to Heaven.
One is never prepared for death-
especially that of a parent.
You know it will come eventually,
makes sense intellectually;
a matter to run from emotionally.
The day before he was to die,
he kept calling my cell line.
Over and over, he tried.
too tired and busy was I.
“I’ll call him tomorrow,”
I thought, fully justified;
not knowing he would not then
be alive.
Did Pop sense
his time had come?
Is there something he needed to tell
his eldest one?
What did I miss in
missing his call?
Did he go
thinking
I cared not at all?
Along with grief,
from guilt I found little relief.
Over and over,
in my mind,
I wrestled with my use of time.
Questioned my responsibilities:
Were they aligned with my priorities?
Eleven years later,
older,
a tad wiser,
I can begin
to myself forgive.
We do our best
in the moments we live.
Perfection, not the final goal.
Missteps, falls –
a part of it all.
Lessons learned
in his life and death-
Thank you Father!
No more regrets.
Au Cœur
Walking around
the City streets,
this piece of graffiti
I repeatedly meet.
It reads
to me:
Protect your Heart.
“Why?”
I wonder.
“Is such a thing
even possible?”
I ponder.
Is not
The Heart
meant
to be used,
broken open
and well spent?
Le Cœur,
it will never relent,
nor exhibit
sustained discontent,
doing that
for which
it was sent.
The grand design,
the clear intent
for us to be truly,
in life, content.
Strong and resilient,
The Heart,
also very smart,
crafted this way
from the very start.
Unlike a piece
of rare fine art,
The Heart
is not made
to be placed
on a wall
deemed too delicate
to fall.
No, no, no, no, no!
Not at all!
I contend
to me and friends:
Lay bare,
Le Cœur,
even as scared,
it’ll take you there,
that place,
that divine space
where only
COURage makes.
Sun Salutations
Dawn of a new day-
hooray!
Awake!
Give thanks!
Pray!
As within,
so without.
Morning meditations
strengthen thy House.
No perceived stress felt.
Mind, heart, body –
all aligned,
all in exquisite rest.
Work flows smoothly.
Everything moves so easily.
All that is seen is beauty,
even in this, the
big
busy
City.
No cacophony,
just sweet melodies.
No hurry,
only curiosity.
Frowns turned upside down;
smiles abound.
Gratitude, shared and found.
I see you, you see me.
Namaste,
we are a family!
No self-recrimination,
no regrets;
only admission
one did one’s best.
And so,
the stage is set
for when
dusk is met.
Peaceful sleep
will thee meet
with this day complete.
Deep calls unto Deep
such is when
Kindreds meet.
Deep calls unto Deep
when one cannot sleep
there is a yearning
as one is tossing
and turning.
Inside,
the child weeps.
Deep calls unto Deep
A dearly departed
snatches your heart,
tears it tenderly apart,
then captures your Soul
to make forever
free and bold.
Deep calls unto Deep
A majestic old tree,
an elephant resplendent
in its quiet dignity,
wondrous seas,
birth of little babies,
the birds and the bees.
All miracles,
they are
as the moon and the stars.
Look up and about,
Nature beseeches,
life so sweet
and utterly brief.
Deep calls unto Deep
burgeoninc 