in progress: the only language that matters

Orange peels

A wise woman tells me,
make space, new ideas will come

and so I try to identify
what I no longer need.

When the world is burning,
not somewhere else but here

and collectively we know that it will be a while
before this dark is over,

still, it is only a small shattering
and maybe the specific path does not matter

maybe orange peels in a pile in the sink
don’t have to mean anything

and maybe when it feels like we are
living in a circular world

with no doors
or answers,

when there is so much fire
everywhere

inside
and out

when forward motion
feels better –

we keep moving
as if action is the only language that matters

maybe the hardest part
is always allowing things to die.

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Mabon writings

Dreaming of the dead and the not yet born

I am a gatherer of bones
Who finds stories and tries to remember them,

I have some of yours
Kept close

and now you’re gone from this world
and you were gone
For me
Long before that –
but I cannot remember why.

Sometimes it feels
like floating
Or flying
Or falling

but sometimes power comes
from giving in
or leaving behind.

Now I am afraid
but my fear and the
ever present eventual goodbye
make the creating feel more vital

and so on a day when the
anger is all
encompassing

I imagine them nearby
walking barefoot over rocks
and dipping toes
into cold water

listening and
waiting
patiently
for her turn.

And when I think I am alone
driving through the dark,
that I am the only one,

I remember that we are never the only ones

so when it is time to step away
I turn my back quickly
and even that
small movement
begins to bring relief.

 

Needles

The slow death of winter
comes

and though I try to remain distant
I cannot help but hope

so I lean in with a hard yes
working diligently at what I can control
and releasing what I can’t.

And when the only answer
is I just don’t know,
try to realize that
this is our beginning.

Speak it out loud,
and then
go outside
to play in the snow.

Maybe that is the first step,
to let out a wild and authentic laugh
as I sled down the long hill of our snow
covered backyard as the moon rises

and maybe clarity in something easy
will help bring the rest of the world into alignment,
back into the light.

Maybe we will reject these rules
and decide to make new ones,

maybe we throw away those old maps
realizing finally that we can make our own.

Hummingbird

Amazingly all 5 of us
are together in the backyard
checking on the
strawberries
so as to not miss
one’s perfect ripeness,

and a humming bird zooms in.

He is here and there
and here again, sampling
each raspberry bloom.

All eyes are on him
including two quite young ones
and four feline.

He comes quite close
to get a particularly appetizing
looking flower.

He stays longer than I
expect him to,
unafraid of us
as we stand still.

And then with a woosh
he is off to his next
adventure

and we go inside
to make our dinner
and eat our strawberries.

night breeze

I feel the breeze through
the bedroom window
on a summer night
as I sit with my baby
at my breast,

it’s the end of summer
and finally the coyotes
have returned.

their song comes through
the open window and in the
odd hours of the early morning
they keep me company
in the quiet and the dark.

The cool comes on quickly and
autumn makes herself known
as the warmth of the day
arrives later and later.

Daylight makes lessons learned
in the dark harder to remember.

There is a feeling of relief
and then dismay
when I realize that
I am still myself,
despite the drastic
changes to my
definition.

Stretch marks,
like any other scar,
are a reminder
of where I’ve been
a record on my body
of each destination
and crash.
A mind may forget
but the body remembers.

It is written on my bones
and this body will find a way.

In a time of crisis
I strain to remember
what coyote taught me
about the lighthearted
nature of the universe
I say it over and over again
in my head, hoping repetition
will make it stick.

Her mouth curves into a wide grin
around my nipple and
again I am in love.

 

 

 

 

Published on Zoomoozophone Review