sacred cauldrons,
we are,
co-created,
guided,
emptied and filled.
brimming to overflow,
bubbling,
simmering gently,
fed by the eternal
crackling
Flames.
aromas wafting
through
and across
the realms.
vulnerability
dissipates difficulties
that part,
she,
the one who quickly
dissipates difficulties,
who is she?
where did she come from?
how old were we
when she first emerged ?
curious
and
eager to thank her.
she kept us alive,
afloat,
here, in body, now.
to her, I wish to say:
I am ready, Dear One,
to feel,
to trust,
the difficulties
you hurried
to take away.
I am ready to allow
the difficult bits
the spaciousness
to burn 🔥
to reconfigure us
from the inside out.
sweetness
not enough
then
suddenly
too much!
something missing
what?
a yearning
for sweetness,
release
from discipline,
a tipping point
of sorts,
can no longer run
or hide
sadness
disappointment
fear?
of what?
barely space
between internal stimulus
and its well-trodden response.
a mere taste
then
suddenly
the deluuge,
surrendering to the waterfall.
a deep
familiar
insatiable
hunger
for sweetness
presence
purpose
excitement
reasons
any
to be
here
now.
sacred work
what is the Sacred Work
I am to do
being
fully
here
now –
tired
grief-strickened
stunned
a tad numbed?
what can I offer
from “my” heArt
to “yours”?
the breath?
mere air?
yes, deep breathing
inhaling,
smelling
like the way of a baby,
taking It all
in and down
to the belly
to the Fire 🔥
hold It there
gently witness
trans-formation.
At the appointed time,
exhale
re-lease
birth
slowly
intentionally
Freshness
something new
something
needed
urgently
now!
This is what
I am
to do.
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.
contradictions
I don’t recall
ever
seeing your violent side.
To me, you were always
one-of-a-kind –
the cool,
tall,
dark & handsome uncle.
Never saw the part of you
who terrorized
your beautiful wife;
the you
who would beat
women
children
with a baseball bat!
Could I have loved you
if I had witnessed that?
Like Jekyll & Hyde,
we humans.
So many contradictions
and perplexing multitudes.
“Good” and “evil”
in equal measure
cutting through
all our hearts.
Are we to be confined
to the worst moments
of our lives?
We are made
crafted
molded
into who we become.
No innate monsters,
only beings
tragically un-done
wrecking havoc
in their altered state.
How do we be different –
infuse more love and tenderness;
choose significantly less violence,
champion wit and wisdom
instead of whips on children’s skin
and weapons of mass destruction?
the edges of sourdough bread
some times
i get hungry,
typically late
at night,
just before
i am supposed to be
in bed.
the hunger comes –
an unease in the pit
of my gut.
the mouth follows
with a desperate urge for…
what
exactly?
don’t want to go deep
now.
and so i reach
for the sourdough bread,
carefully peeling its edges,
nibbling,
satiated.
any pieces beneath the crust –
whoa…intense!
it feels way too much!
summer
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.”
What will my role be in The Revolution?
What role will I play in The Revolution?
What will my Lord require of me to help bend that long arc of the moral Universe always toward justice?
How will I be asked to repay the debts to those who came before, who took the hits and falls so that I might on their broad, brave shoulders stand – in the moment – free and tall?
To whom much is given, much is required. A government truly for the good of all the people and run by all the people comes at a high cost – the cost of caring, of voting, of marching – of being ever diligent and vigilant, opposing with steadfast love the misguided forces that would hate from the place of fear and darkness cutting through all our human hearts.
What role will we the people play in The Revolution now that the pendulum has swung back, seemingly all the way to the other side and another time – the response to the call for higher love and broader inclusion; the response to the call for pluralism and government visually reflective of its many peoples?
When did we forget our basic tenet that we the people are One – E pluribus Unum? Either we stand together – united, or become completely undone – indeed, extinct – by the misperception that we are not one and must only lookout for number one.
There is no middle moral ground; we can no longer simply stand around, desperately seeking a savior to come down and bear the heat for our collective neglect and defeats.
No, the answers are not out there – never were. The heroes lie on the inside and have thousands of faces. Be still and know that we each have a specific role to play, some piece of the work to claim, an assignment bearing only our name.
May we the people with courage and deep conviction, accept our respective tasks to ensure our beautiful American Experiment lasts, and the freedom for which it always strives remains vibrant and forever alive.
Joy in Repetition
There is indeed
Joy in Repetition,
in doing it
again and again,
learning to see it
outside and in,
the nuances,
the subtleties-
variations on the
exact
same
theme.
What a pleasure
to be delivered
repeated opportunity
for vision,
to better see
what is true-
what is reality.
Day in,
day out;
year after year,
the same issues
reappear.
They come
looking for resolution,
for final absolution.
There is indeed
Joy in Repetition,
in the single-minded commitment
to always come back home
to Self
so as to be
of greater service
to everyone else.
Each Other’s Keepers,
we truly are.
All of us,
big, bright Shining Stars.
Alas, we often forget
from whence we came.
As such,
we are wont
to play
dangerous, destructive
games-
veering off our path,
so far, one can only laugh.
But sins are forgiven;
therein we’re saved!
The Joy in Repetition,
a clean slate,
yet another chance
to pivot,
to reevaluate,
to atone,
to return Soul to its Home,
to not stray
and become lost in the daily fray.
The Joy in Repetition,
returning to love
repeatedly
and
consciously;
relentlessly changing
the subliminal scripts,
adjusting to one
that is truth,
the more accurate,
gentler
fit.
Great Joy in Repetition,
a lifetime
of exploration-
digging deeper,
going farther,
climbing ever higher.
Over and over
and over
again-
when does it end?
Perhaps,
only
in Heaven.
