Gifted

                                                                              art by Rima Staines

sleeping seed

in the fallow field

awakened

with sun's whispered love

moon's tender pull

begins it's journey

to bless this world

another grandchild

 gifted

 waiting

little one... 

Unknown Visitor

                                                                                                    art by Paula Jones

 smoke 

hawk

owl

water

my lover's words...name

roll off a stranger's tongue

who then calls me

his...

angel

this unknown man

 taking his leave
three taps of his horn

the ritualistic manner

of my lover's farewell

 somehow...

 portent

The Stars of Dawn

sleeplessness

night questioner

breather of stardust

imbiber of moon glow

revenant seer

angel whisperer

traveler

welcomed home

by the stars

of

dawn...

The Power of Inwardness

untruths expand in the night

creating fissures...

vulnerability flows

by whose grace...

mine

 sitting with inwardness

they become...

cathartic

fire

begetting

rebirth 

 

to borrow mary oliver's words:

"by morning

i had vanished at least a dozen times

into something better"

 

and i did... 

 

 

My Mother's Bones

last night

i dreamed of my mother's

bones...

repose

high on her windswept hill

soundlessly...

they drew in 

on themselves...

feet became talons

fierce beak

on her skull

lifting...

with featherless wings

she appeared...

outside my window

and sang the song...

of flying

back into my

soul

i woke...

tears...

coursing

down my face

and the taste of

flight

laying sweet

upon

my

tongue...

The Flying is Lost.....

                                                                                             art by pamela zagarenski
 
where 
are 
you...

peace
?

 my soul feels
 like a butterfly...
pinned
under glass...

"the husk is captured...
but the flying is lost" 

it's time
to breathe
the flying
back
into
the
 husk...


  

 

The Gift of Another Day

sunrise...

the gift of

another day

i 

will 

try...

 

again

If....

we are born of stardust

losses in our lives...

sometimes...

return us to stardust...

even as we still walk this earth

our bones shift...

a loose image...

of our old self

we build a funeral pyre...

and sing the mournful dirge...

if...

In the Gloaming...

i sit with the gloaming...

sleeveless...

barefoot...

70°...

january...

the warmth like a heavenly hand...

laid upon me...

 a plane passes over...

 a dove calls...

sounds eliciting an old memory...

another place...

another time...

gypsy blood...

back then...

called to wander

but this day's end...

after 63 revolutions around the sun...

i just want to go home...

then i realize...

i am home...

and somehow...

that makes me...

sad...

Red

red...

 

on a gray day

these woods behind my home

 

i seem to be attracting red...

or red is attracting me...

 

red:

 

fire

burning 

heat

blood

danger

stop

 

red... 

 

my heart...

 

five vowels...

three consonants...

 

i

love

you

 

 

 

 

 

 

Messengers of Love...

my afternoon meditation is usually outdoors...

even when the cold causes me to bundle warmly...

but today my old bone's protest led me here...

to be seated in supplication

upon sitting i noticed seven brilliant red cardinals

in the bush directly out this view...

 more in the curly willow tree...

even more perched on the lady banks...

i have often heard it told that cardinals herald

the visit of a lost loved one...

if so... i had much company today

 

as usual..i spent this time sitting quietly...

open eyed...

drinking in life with all my senses... 

accompanied the entire forty minutes

by these messengers...

 

i was truly blessed to be surrounded this day

with so much love...

and i 

thank

 

YOU...

Unbidden....

...and coffee

 

morning meditation completed...

 waiting now on the sunrise...

with aching muscles...

not the bad kind...

ones earned from honest laboring

digging ...

shovelful...

after shovelful...

after shovelful...

the making of a fire pit

i long to sit...

blanketed in stars... 

 flames hypnotically dancing...

fire...

stars...

 shadows...

 a good kind of

darkness...

not the kind that is...

unbidden...

 

 

....Child of Mine

fog:  Mother Earth's healing breath as

She whispers "good morning child of mine".

wet grass claiming my feet...

the feathered ones chittering...

morning prayers going up...

for this moment...

all is right...

this

Sunday

morn

Sing Me to Healing...

lately i've felt like the ghost of something unknowable....

off kilter....

floundering...

i can't make art...

can't read...

can't listen to music...

i spend as much time outdoors as possible...

physically laboring on my land until i am spent...

arms and legs quivering....

 caked in dirt...

salt powdering my body from exertion...

and when i can do no more...

i just sit with the fruits of my labor...

just...

BE

i keep waiting for that little bubble of my

inner level to tilt back to center...

it will happen...

eventually...

Mother Earth is always willing to wrap

me in her loving arms...

kiss my hurts...
soothe my soul...

sing me to healing with her lullabies...

and i bow my head...

 in gratitude...

Thanks Given

i have so much more to be thankful for than i could ever list here.

this old faithful body still carries me through each achingly beautiful

day...i am still filled with curiosity and wonder at all this earth has to

offer...i can explore each day under deep blue skies and sit each

night cloaked in stars as i feel the moon's heartbeat...and the knowing

of this fills my heart with a gladness that is palatable...i still think

deeply...love fiercely...hope relentlessly...and breathe in God's love

for me...i am protected by angels and provided for by the universe...

and i bow my head daily in gratitude for this. i am truly blessed...

and on this day of giving thanks...i send blessings to each of you.

happy thanksgiving...

The Warmth of HIS Hands

i meditate

each morning upon rising

and again each afternoon with

a 'walk and talk'.

 

the cold of the shadows then the

warmth of the sun likens the feeling

i get when asking God to lay his hands

upon me...

 

and i feel....

 

blessed...

The Warrior My Mother Raised.....

how is it that we lose ourselves in the wanting instead of the having?

i have found that the more time i spend alone the less i want...and i have

spent most of this lifetime alone. my few forays from this way of life have

all taken a toll on my well being....always something like standing on a

precipice when you are bipolar. we bipolars see the world through different

eyes...we think deeper...feel deeper...over analyze every situation...and when

we let ourselves get too happy...too content...we self sabotage because we

don't think we deserve that...and retreat again into our own private worlds.

i've added another mark on this old scarred heart of mine. i knew better than

to 'want'. i fought this last battle like the warrior that my mother raised...but...

now...bloody and spent...i concede...my head bowed in acceptance. it was

inexpressibly beautiful while it lasted... i will always count it as one of

my blessings. and now...as always...i will meet each day with the best that

i have to give...and with prayers... and gratitude...and a wonderment for life.

That's What I'm Talking About!

i've spent the biggest part of my life in scuffed up

cowboy boots. horses...rodeos...and general country

life filled my days. the last thirteen years before my

retirement i wore the attire of the ones who put their

own lives on the line to protect yours...the ones with

the bullseye on their backs now... that no one respects.

well...i decided it was time for a new pair of shit kickers!

tin haul boots! that's what i'm talking about. i feel my 

neck getting redder as i speak....

danger...avoid contact...run...

that about sums up what my life is all about right now.

 i'm on the downhill slide with nothing to

lose so tread cautiously friends....

need your shit kicked?

i'm the woman for the job!

Celebrating.....

“Once upon a time, when women were birds, there was the simple understanding that to sing at dawn and to sing at dusk was to heal the world through joy. The birds still remember what we have forgotten, that the world is meant to be celebrated.”
― Terry Tempest Williams, When Women Were Birds

beautiful bird spirit.....

Hello October

 

 

i found this leaf near my home

i love that it is heart shaped

i love that despite the holes

the nicks

the dings

that heart can still

shine

 

much like the heart in 

my chest

 

thank you Universe....