Thursday, July 30, 2009

yo...

hey...knock knock...you...look at me...no,
LOOK at me...don't you see me? don't you feel me?
man...at least don't you feel that crazy tingly feeling one feels
when someone is longing for them?
wow...you don't do you...
yo...knock knock...i am woman...

and you are a man whose heart is guarded...
blind and dense to what is right in front of you...

right in front of you...

my timing is...impeccable...

who made up these freakin rules?!

we send our kids to school so they can learn the basics; reading, writing, arithmetic and...compliance....the rules of society, agreed upon by the many and to hell with the few who may have stood outside the box just long enough to say, "whoa....wait a minute....that's not going to work....", that guy was either labeled eccentric and tolerated or, straight up put down...put away, done away with....well, now what's happening? yeah...that's right....it's not working....and it's becoming all too clear that something must be done...but, to step out of the way "it's always been" is an almost physical battle...when your paradigm is all you've ever known or all you can remember, to step around that wall is a committment to change many are simply too frightened to committ to...
i want that change...i want it so bad i can taste it....that's not to say i'm not scared...i'm scared to death....but i want it nonetheless....i want to know what it's like to live, really, really live....i want to do away with the noise that threatens my wakefulness...i want the core of life to be all that i am, on every level....to stand on that mountaintop and feel the cold wind on my skin, breathe in my freedom as i let go of all that i have....all the "stuff" i've hung onto for so long...i want to spread my arms as though i could fly and i want to feel the full force of it all...to let go and become a part of it all...to know that i am not separate from all that is...that my identity is simply another agreement i've taken on...that is all...who i am is something much deeper...
this way of thinking....this realization wakes in me (again) a respect for everyone i come across...the connection is all that is, all that truly matters and a constant second only to the fact that everything changes....even identities....my compassion grows for the one who i would normally be bothered by...he is a gift....a way to wake me up from this dream....
yeah....wake up....realize that "this" is simply an agreement....it is not reality....look around you....most of it is not reality....decide for yourself to live....LIVE...

Where I See Myself

i am sitting on a beach, legs are crossed...the sun is setting and i am alone...the sand is warm still and feels good on my legs...i look out at the ocean and watch the sun's rays play across the water...i am calm as the tide moves in and out in front of me...in this moment, i am all that i am destined to be...i have all that i need...i realize that this has always been true...a lifetime of struggle is shrugged away as i accept the truth that, everything is as it should be...i run my hand through my hair and pull my knees up to my chin...the little girl in me sits on the edge of my consciousness...she has come to let me know that i am a child still...that, when all the layers of life are peeled away and all my pain is released...i remain full of wonder and excitement at what there is to learn....not what there is to have but...learn...my story can be changed...i can make it up as i go...nothing is predestined...it is all merely an experience...when we go back to the childlike in us, to the innocense that we emanated when we first arrived, we look at the world with fresh eyes and we can let go of the stories we've written...stories that clouded our vision...we are enlightened and with this comes empowerment...the quiet, peaceful, strong kind of empowerment that seeks to prove nothing...it just is...

this is where i see myself...

The Time Is At Hand

She stood at the fence quietly surveying the scene before her...armed guards holding back the surge of people fleeing death, poverty, oppression. She noted the arrogance of the soldiers as hoses were lifted to spray at the screaming crowd...again. Mothers shielded their children, fathers stood defiant against the torrent of water. She felt a sense of deep loss standing there, just far enough way to feel only a few drops...the lack of compassion complete, no sense of humanity was evident as soldiers followed their orders and families followed their needs. Whole communities had been torn asunder as the power wielding few destroyed what was once...great. What had been lost was a concept deeply buried under
apathetic self pity...the comformist's web had been spun and freedom's very essence had been bled dry. Even the soldiers had been blinded...their souls pushed deep into wells of self righteous ignorance. The power of many, when gathered and organized, is as strong as steel and a thing to be reckonded with...but...for the power of many to be realized there must come an awakening...a rising of indignation and a demand that changes must be made...will be made. She knew this as she quietly stood watching her people; black, white, brown, yellow and red. She remembered what once was and was again stricken by a deep sadness...oh, if only they would stop fighting...if only they would learn to fight as warriors rather than victims caught in a mess of angry self reproach. She stepped back from the fence and climbed a hill to sit again under a high oak tree. She waited for the children to gather and then began telling the stories of days gone by. She knew that in these children a spark would light and a longing would grow...dignity and grace, which is present in us all, would stand strong again in their hearts and minds and the fighting would be replaced by the quiet certainty that freedom was the one thing belonging to them all...a birthright that would once again reign supreme over any greed for power, money or prestige. The time is at hand...the fighting will end, the awakening will be complete. And it will be in the hands and the hearts of our children.

the perfect night

she sat quiet, thoughts within thoughts, peaceful contemplation...
breezy night, fireflys swirling to and fro...her legs over the pier, feet in the water...
jasmine softly swirling around her senses...she breathed deep, exhaled contentment...
he walked up quietly and sat next to her...she leaned on his arm and smiled...
both looked out on the water, silent in each other's presence...words had no place here...
the perfect night...

The Day Has Come

The day has come for a most fundamental change, a breakthrough that transcends all boundaries.
Humanity has reached a crossroads – there is no going back – the “acceptable” mode of behavior has served to bring destruction and defeat.
The infection caused by our sickness has spread to afflict all that is around us – Earth Herself is chafing under the weight of our mighty callousness and utter disrespect.
The day has come when we must stop what we are doing and look at who we have become – open our eyes and see the damage we have done. There is no point in hiding, there is no place to hide – the sins of our fathers have destroyed our sanctuaries, our hiding places – we must stand in the face of the evil we have allowed to run rampant, we must destroy the Devil that we created – the scapegoat that we laid our maliciousness upon.
The old ways, however, will not work – we must open our hearts to even older ways – methods that have no name – no beginning, no end. The only cure for our sickness has been with us all along – for we were born from this “cure”, we are our own healing. Lay down your anger – your judgments, your self proclaimed righteousness. Take a look into your enemy’s eyes and realize they are your own eyes. As the battle rages around you – find your quiet place – remember who you really are and then, extend your hand to your brother, make a way for your sister, learn from your father and go, teach your daughter. In this family – to which we all belong – we must learn again to open our arms, take hold of each other, forgive ourselves and then look outward to pick up the pieces, rebuild.
Throw away beliefs that would only serve to separate and remember the Oldest Way...
– the way we all walked long ago – the Way of Truth.
We are not separate from one another – we are all connected – spun together in a wondrous weaving, lovingly created – a creation we are sadly destroying. The adage that united we stand, divided we fall – this is no mere quote, words strung together for effect. This statement is one of truth – we must go back to the beginning.
To all my brothers and sisters – humanity has reached a crossroads – we can come together and move to the next level – united – or we can fall – divided, our ashes blown by the winds, our Mother Earth continuing her travels without us.
I, for one, would like to continue our journey.

sky...

so many skies...each one so different...
from the wide expanse of a desert sky over Arizona...
or the unsure blue-gray over Colorado...
South Carolina with clouds full to overflowing, monsoon bringin with it the smell of rain...
or Spain's beautiful blue that stirs in me memories not my own but, a part of me always...
Washington's sky would drizzle one day and dazzle the next, the rain a constant...catalyst to so much green...
California's summer night, a midnight blue...perfect for walking down low lit beaches...kisses by the sea...
each one so different...each having it's place in my mind's eye...

sing out...

sing out...sing the song that is you and sing loud...fleeting is the desire to be, yet be you must...be real, be you...i am aching inside...i watch the world around me, i watch my brothers and sisters lay to waste their sacredness, i mourn the unnecessary angst...hatred borne from fear...fear of what? how can we be so afraid of each other? we walk this world as though our stories are real...we carry our scripts to hide our faces so that we can fade away into nothingness...never living, never honoring ourselves, much less each other...yet, and i strive to be as they, there are those individuals who raise their eyes and look deep into the facade...they strip away the mask and lovingly reach out to any and all...there is no one beneath them...they, these wise souls, have seen the light and live out their lives extending the mirror to the world around them...the light they have seen, it is not in some long lost story...it is not in some unreachable corner of the world hidden as though a treasure to be sought far and wide for...no...this light though hidden it would seem is just within reach...it is within...look into this light, i ask thee, my fellow lost soul, look into this light and rest your Spirit...let your light shine...shine bright, let your voice be heard and sing loud, reach out and take hold of each other...only then will freedom's lost place in this world be found...

she's got her own mind

all of 12 goin on 25...
she's my right hand...
stepped up to the plate when the men i chose couldn't/wouldn't...
life's been unfair to her before she had a chance to know the difference...
guilt racks my soul...she forgives me...i haven't forgiven m'self...
she speaks her mind, too much like i was/am...
we butt heads, stubborn to the core...
my beautiful first born...i love this kid so much...
no one has the power to make me as angry...or fill me with as much pride....
when all i remember is being told i didn't matter...
how do i see past this to teach her that she does?
so damn tired...so damn determined, nonetheless...
i am her mother...i can and will do right by her...
but...sometimes...it's too much...so tired...
want this life to calm down...even out...so i can focus...
give her...and my other daughters, what they deserve...
a mother who is there for them....
but...sometimes....this mother would like...if only for a little while...
someone to be there for her...

shelter from the rain

she closed her eyes as he began another angry tirade, raining his anger upon her...
like daggers at her spirit, his words cut, hurting her yet again...
she let herself wander to a place in her mind, a place of solace all her own...
under a tree she sat, breathing deeply...his shouting a dim disturbance far away...
leaning back, she looked out upon breathless beauty, grass blowing softly,
flowers lending their aroma to a breeze already pungent with the scent of rain...
she gazed into the distance and could see rolling clouds, filled with the promise of a great storm...
the air was cool on her skin, the moment so complete, so full in it's realness...
it would seem as though the angry man trying to degrade her so was simply a figment of her imagination...
she smiled and closed her eyes, let the rain dance across her face as the leaves on the tree sheltered her...

she made a choice

she stood quietly at the back of the room...no one knew she'd entered...
she listened to her family discuss her latest choice...her latest endeavor...
she heard the reproach in their voices, the disappointment...
the condemnation of yet another attempt at yet, another dream...
she was a single mother, how dare she take chances?
she had no business doing what would please her...
those days were long gone with the birth of her children...
she owed too much, she'd lost too much, to ask for their support meant...
she was asking too much...
this was what she listened to...as she quietly slipped out...

she walked to her favorite tree and sat down...her heart aching...
no words did she have for them...nothing could be said that would bring them...
to believe in her...
but, this was not the cause of her pain...
her tears flowed because somewhere along the way, she had come to agree with them...
she had taken on their doubts and had given in to their disappointment...
it had become ingrained in her...so much so that she hadn't noticed...
until the day she realized that if she didn't do something real...something outside of the box...
she would live her life dying a little each day...
and this would be the legacy she would pass on to her children...
it wasn't about the money...
it wasn't for the attention, or to prove her family wrong...
it was about living life out loud...taking full advantage of her gifts and blowing the lid off the rules...
it was about living a full existence and teaching her children by example...
the crossroads spread out before her that night...her fear almost tangible...
she made a choice...and she chose to take the road less traveled...
and damn, she was scared...but, damn...she was living...

say what you want...

say it aloud...let yourself hear your words...listen to your dreams and imagine them also...leave no detail out...no matter how crazy or out of line...nothing is out of line...
as opportunities present themselves, take action...IMMEDIATELY...
change your thoughts, you change your world...
be responsible...your life is up to you...

quiet

there is a place i want to go to...
it's quiet there, but for the trees blowing in the breeze...
i'm all alone...if only for a little while...
i sit upon a boulder looking out over a valley of deep, pine green...
the air is crisp and cold...i breathe in deep and smell nothing but the trees...
no expectations...no place to go, no place to be...
no one to count on...no one counting on me...
if just for a little while...

quick to judge

how quick to judge
how quick to write off
what may not fit society's whims...
that which is different
that which seems odd
may have depth deeper than the surface skimmed...

the status quo is no home to me
i reach for places unfamiliar
i don't care to fit in with popular demand...
the box is too confined
the lid threatens my air
i'll fight to the end and take my stand...

there are causes worth taking risks for
and lost souls searching for a light to guide them
fear of the unknown seems almost tangible...
but worse yet is doing nothing
i cannot forgive standing idly by
when help was so easily available...

we have forgotten who once we were
our old ways were holy and sacred
struggling we seek to find our lost place...
the new ways are insidious and destructive
we are killing ourselves slowly and surely
so ashamed we're unable even to look upon our own face...

peaceful warrior

i am a warrior...my battle is not for material items...i don't seek power or prestige...i seek peace...the pure serenity that comes when all is lost and everything is gained...this war is not won with weapons and death but, with persistence and quiet...with the presence of Spirit and the absence of hate...my battlefield begins and ends inside of me, the struggle of years running blindly through dark forests of brooding pain and choices made with bad intentions...and then...i breathe...

i am a warrior...my mission is pure...i stand alone in a crowd and i smile because i know that with this battle's end, i will have held the world in my hands and i will be free...and i will move forward, teaching those who want to learn...those who are ready to take the warrior's path...the way of the Peaceful Warrior...

night sounds...

The night sounds echo all around me...
The sky a deep, blue-black, dotted with an
immensity of stars.
I lie on the ground and breathe a deep, deep breath of contentment.
Nothing to prove, no one to impress...I am at peace.
I live my days playing the "game", sometimes bending the rules a bit,
here and there-
just because it's funny to watch the confusion on people's faces.
It's not real - what we must do to exist day to day, not reality,
just an existence we've created.
We've deluded ourselves - we've fallen asleep.
And now, I'm waking up...I'm just beginning to see.
And, it's freeing me from a life of doubt - a life of insecurity.
I have a long way to go yet - but, as I lie here - looking up at this great expanse of sky, I feel a love I know I've known before...
and it feels like home.

My Fellow Americans

Something is lost here in this mighty place...
unrecognizable our land from sea to shining sea...
we are a broken body with scars too deep to erase...
we no longer know the meaning of what it is to be free.

We've willingly traded liberty's sweet song...
for what we've been fooled to believe is easy gain...
the devil throws his head back laughing at the throng...
of souls gathered around our country's blood soaked stain.

We send our soldiers to die for our country...
we would claim to support and yearn their return...
yet, what reward do we extend for their tour of duty...
when our homes are lost and lessons go unlearned?
We reach to the one we would blame for our demise...
we would take him and force him to show his face...
and the shock of what we see behind his clever disguise...
sends through us waves of a deep and profound disgrace.

We will be forced to look upon a truth unbearable...
yet bear it and learn from it we must...
in the end, to create our new beginning, we must hold ourselves responsible...
for the guilty party ultimately and always is...us.

i stand on a mountain

i stand on a mountain, bright moon lights the valley below...there is no sound but for the night sounds...the breeze blowing the pines, my breathing, calm and even...the air is cool on my skin, the smell of rain faint in the air...i look out upon the simplicity before me...i long for this simplicity within me...to take each moment as it comes...no concern for the past, no worry over the future...i know i am headed to this place...from whence we all have come...my impatience unnecessary...all is as it should be...all is at it's own pace...my awareness is shifting from the "story" i've been brought up to believe is "reality" to...reality in it's purest form...i have spent a lifetime seeking for that which i had lost...the search ended when i realized that, all this time...what i'd been seeking had been contained within me...i have never been without...all that i am is all that i am supposed to be...perfect...divine...

i stand on a mountain...

sawdust on the floor...

she sees him from across the room...he saw her first....she feels a panic in her tummy as she notes he is coming toward her...the lights are dim, the music soft and the room warm with a breeze blowing soft through the windows...she smells his cologne as he draws near and watches his face as a smile lights his eyes...he says nothing to her, just gently takes her hand and pulls her to her feet...he places his hand on her waist and begins to sway to the music, guiding her to the center of the dance floor...she takes an easy breath and lays her head upon his chest and dances the night away...sawdust on the floor...nothin to prove, nothin to say...no need to speak...just two souls moving to the music...

i'd love to trace his lips...

...touch his skin ever so softly...lick his lips and feel his breath quicken...mmmmm....

why do nice guys finish last?

so...this sweet young man asked me why do nice guys finish last?
and the only answer i could come up with was...
they don't.
but, i couldn't tell him that, because, while he's busy figuring out his place in the world...
he's gotta go thru whatever life hands him and if life hands him a puzzle that's fallen apart...
he's the only one who can put the pieces together...
BUT...
if he were willing to listen, really hear what i had to say...
i would tell him, stop letting your pain dictate to you what the rest of your life is going to look like...
know that, when she hurt you...by you sticking around to help see her thru her bullshit,
altho you did open the door for her to hurt you more...
that's not to say you're a fool or wrong for having the heart to stay and the soul to believe in her goodness and worth...
because, deep down you know that for as ugly as she was toward you...as much as she fucked up...deep down she is worthy...
now, here's the rub...it's not that you failed as a man...it's that she failed to see her own worth and therefore...
no matter how hard you tried...or how "nice" a guy you were and are...there was no way your relationship could work...
fuck man...it takes two in a partnership...just because you believed in her didn't make a damn bit of difference because
she didn't believe in herself.
so...now what? you've moved on...or have you? have you?
i mean...you ask this question with a sardonic smile and a shake of your head...as if you know the answer and that answer is...
nice guys finish last because they're pussies...
or some such bullshit...
here's my take...take your time...why are you in such a hurry?
where do have to go that you can't take the time...the precious time you need...
to focus on you...to hone your character...to become the man you want to be...
because, while you are working on you...somewhere, out in the world...
so is she...she is busy learning from her mistakes, busy tryin to figure out her own place...
her pain is as real as yours...and like you, she gets back up after her sadness beats her down...
you haven't met her yet...but, you know her...
you know her smile, you know her sweet scent...you feel her soul as her Spirit reaches out to you...
know that she longs for you too...probably asks herself silly questions also...like...
why can't i just meet that perfect...that sweet....
nice guy?
and when you meet her...she'll make sure you know that in her eyes...
and in her heart...nice guys like you
never finish last....

my heart's desires...

my heart's desires...they're simple really...
they come by way of experiences had...
rather than in the form of the tangible...
give me my 6 year old dancing or my 5 year old's hugs...
my 13 year old negotiating with me like a pro, although i'm still going to say no...
give me a Maxi Priest song playin on the radio under a moonlit night...
sitting in my lawn chair and listening to notes traveling afar...
offer me the smell of jasmine and lavender on a breezy summer's late afternoon...
a sit under a tall oak tree while fireflys flit around me...
give me good friends laughing around a bottle of wine, with live music playing in the background...
luscious lips to kiss, strong arms to hold me...
let me be me...crazy, neurotic, silly me...that's all i need...

One Love

if i could change the world
with my words...
i would cry out for peace
among the people...
and the people would stop
and become
One People...
if i could change the way
we are headed
with but my heart's desire
and a wish whispered into the night...
i would wish for us to
go back to the Way we once walked,
the Oldest Way.
if i could, oh if i could
i would-
and all this pain, death, discrimination and destruction would stop...
if i could change the world with my words
i would choose, use
one word...
Love...
One Love...

Without Us...

I have been lost...
searching for myself.
I feel too much...
and I tire of this world's oppressive ways.
The media desensitizes with images
of dead and battered.
Our children grow up thinking they are
entitled...
into adults who think they are
entitled.
Entitled to what?
False gods would lie and profess we are somehow special...
with our humanistic sense of self-righteous arrogance...
our materialistic wants and our selfish designs.
Truth be known-for our very survival...
the slate must be made clean...
and all must be stripped away.
To stand with nothing...
is to gain everything.
To open one's eyes and realize
That all that has been created by man at the expense of others...
force fed by man to the point of destroying our world...
all this will eventually
be the demise of man.
And the world will go on-
we, with our arrogant sense
of self-importance are loathe to understand or accept that yes...
oh yes,
the world will go on without us.
Unless we change our mightily foolish ways-
The world will go on without us...
without us.

give me...

...a night under stars...
sweet summer air hot upon my skin...
voices within the distance faint against the sound
of the Spanish guitar...
my tongue still tastes the red wine and his kiss...
his breathe catches, even as mine does.
we dance to the music, passion dictating our every move...
we give in, not a care in the world...
the dance, the music, kisses under stars...

the simple things

i write about the simple things.
i take what is complicated and
make that simple too.
because in the end, it's all just that...
simple.
only we make things complex.
we make things hard and difficult to understand.
we put up walls around our hearts, make it almost impossible to reach our core...
or reach another.
we do this...
and it's time...
we...
stopped.

soul searching for release

velvety, midnight blue skies
sprinkled with stars as far as the
eye can see.
i lie in a bed of green grass,
tall and moving along to a silent song
sung by a breeze carrying with it the smell
of summer, rain, jasmine and lilac.
there are trees around me, their branches not so silent
as this same breeze coaxes a chorus from their tall limbs.
i lie here and feel the earth beneath me gently soothe my weary bones
and ease my sad heart.
somewhere my soul is searching for release but not yet....
not yet...for there are things still left to do, words left to write,
people left to help, a world left to heal.

stranger's eyes

you ever notice that when you look into a stranger's eyes,
they avert their gaze?
why?
they search for a hiding place,
they fumble, their eyes go everywhere,
but to your eyes...
it's as tho' it's all they can do to hide -
hide their failures and insecurities.
as tho' ashamed that what they wished to be in their youth faded...
that they somehow let it fail...
i purposely seek that one strong someone
to look back at me-hold my gaze.
i know it may bother some...it may be
bothersome...
but, it's worth it to meet that one strong gaze
that one undeniable, unfaltering look into another's soul that when looking back...
looks just like mine...

he breathed her name...

he breathed her name...
and he knew
she was the One...
he'd courted others before-
'said' their names-
he'd 'said' her name too, yet,
somehow, it was different...
this saying of her name-
as tho' it promised so much more...
and then one day, no warning happened upon him...
it was just a simple, quiet day...
he breathed her name...
and knew, as he felt her essence
course thru his veins...
she was the one.
she looked back at him-a smile upon her lips
and she knew also, an unspoken knowing...
he was hers
and on this warm spring day...
all was right with the world
because he
breathed
her
name.

Poetry

Poetry gives you a key to emotions you lock up tight,
until you finally find the words...the words are like a storm
that builds up slowly, taking up power from places deep inside,
wide open spaces that yield to freedom for the poet's soul.
Poetry is its own entity, a life force that moves of its own will,
taking the poet places familiar sometimes and sometimes unknown.
When my pen strikes up a conversation with the pad before me,
I feel like a third wheel, I'm given the privilege to be part of the words being written
but I must not, cannot, will not interrupt.
The flow and power rises from places deep inside me,
a storm that builds and must run its course and I, like a whirling dust devil,
swirl in ecstatic freedom.

You Gotta Face This Pain

This thing that's got you locked up so tight,
this pain that keeps you from breathing full-
you gotta face it, you gotta step back away from it,
turn and face it.
You must first take a moment to accept it's existence,
understand that it forever is an indelible mark upon your soul.
But only for a moment because then...
you have to stand your ground and tell this pain,
this ugly tortured mark upon your soul that you are taking control now.
You say these things softly but with resoluteness and conviction.
You tell this pain that you are no longer defined by it,
that instead, you will re-define yourself with the lessons it has taught you.
You will take this ugly mark and you will from it draw beauty,
you will see thru new eyes and look upon the world with compassion, love and empathy;
with the eyes once of a tortured boy but now of a man who has been there and knows the depth of pain, loss, disappointment.
As you say these things to the pain that has burrowed for so long in your heart,
something else will begin it's emerging from deeper still within you.
This mark upon your soul will shed its calloused skin and a light will blaze
through the darkness where once you chose to hide...you see...it's all choice.
You will breathe full for the first time in what seemed to be always,
you will finally...choose...to breathe full.

Our Healing Is At Hand

There is no right or wrong way to speak truth...
for truth is it's own poet, it's own storyteller...
So many voices, so many languages...
all rising up on high to speak...
truth.
Perspectives shared, brought together like so many patterns
on a patchwork quilt.
Colors so vivid, so vibrant their hues, only the eyes of the soul
can bear gaze upon it.
Songs, oh the songs!
They all rise and fall with a beat so old as to go back to a time before time...
existed.
They call forth a dance only the Spirit can know.
They call forth from memories buried deep inside the blessed depths of all Humanity.
Lay down your arms, set aside your hate, I beg thee to a world that won't listen.
The People are lost within a crazed, infectious swirl of foolishness.
Lies have blinded, deafened, deadened the souls of so many.
But...there are no right or wrong ways to speak truth...
I say this again and again.
First thru a hushed voice, timid in my new found resolve to speak.
I raise my voice and note a resonance, as tho' I am joining the voices of many-
many from the world over.
I draw from this realized sense, a sense far beyond that of bravery.
I know that the truth I seek, the truth of which I speak will be spoken
from places on high, from places down low.
Colors and songs will ribbon these words and
Spirits will raise their once downcast eyes.
I will call out the People,
lay down your arms, set aside your hate,
for Truth has come back for us and our healing...
oh yes...our healing is at hand.

light and song...

she dazzled as she walked...
this old woman from the
house on the hill...
her hair was white as snow...
her smile brilliant and her eyes wise...
more than the light she emanated...
there was also a sound...
like that of a song...
a melody that played just under
the conscious hearing...
only someone who 'listened',
in that crazy, kooky kinda way,
could hear that song...
the same type of person who understands the way of things old
and unmapped...
this white haired woman was a storyteller,
a visionary who saw past the hardened edges of so called 'reality'...
she saw the truth of things from where the eyes of the story peered deep
into the soul...
and she reached in...drawing out the hidden parts,
those parts people were too afraid to show...or,
too afraid to look upon.
she had an easy way about her...
made people feel at home, no matter what station in life they belonged to...
she was a love set apart,
a love that obeyed no rules so...she was accepted on all realms...
without even trying...
when she told her stories, the People stood in awed silence...
they knew these stories she was telling...had lived them...once,
long ago...before time had become a constraint upon existence...
the People breathed in her words and felt freed from chains
they'd worn for as long as they could remember...chains they'd been born into,
as soon as the warmth of the womb had been taken from them...
she told the stories that needed telling...
stories that needed to be lifted to the heavens so that the gods...
if gods were listening...would know...
that she knew what they were up to...
she gave hope to the People...and she held the People responsible...
for the madness of this world can be blamed on 'gods' for only so long...
this storyteller told stories filled with solution...
and the solution was...
responsibility...
go back to the Old Ways, she urged...
go back to what you, the People, know, feel, breathe as right...
there are no gods on which to place blame and, there are no gods on which to depend
for rescue..it is all up to you...
the People...
so said the storyteller...with hair as white as snow...and a melody emanating from her being...
'it is all up to you...the People'...

sex, soft, sexy, wet...all encompassing sex...

sex, soft, sexy, wet...all encompassing sex....
mmmm, kisses trailin moist from neck to thigh...
hands caressing wherever they find skin....
fingers tracing lips,
rubbin places that send hot shivers down the spine...
distractions are...what?
nonexistent, the focus is she on he and he on she,
one pleasing the other or is it vice versa?
bodies melding together so that the bliss one feels transfers to the other...
pleasure spots licked simply for the sake of pleasure,
there is nothing else but for the night breeze blowing soft upon naked skin...
whispers carried to the night sky,
like prayers to appease the jealous gods...
rocking back and forth into each other,
all at once soothing, sensual, sweetly sexual,
definitions to define a relationship unnecessary,
but to say this is just 'sex' is....wrong...
this is...two people enjoying one another,
finding the art and ecstacy of one another...
exploring the palettes that each other hold...
bringing out wondrous colors and glorious symphonies...
so into each other they are...
breaths mix and match each other's rhythm...
rhyme nor reason matter, they find their own...rhyme and reason...
night passes into morning and they part from each other's presence...
facing the day a bit tired, a bit raw...but with a hunger sated, an appetite satisfied...
with memories swirlin brilliant and wild in their heads...
of a night of sweet sex, soft, sexy, wet...all encompassing sex...

clear view of the moon

sat out on my porch tonite...fast becoming a favorite pasttime...had m'self a cigar and a glass of wine...nothing but the nite, a breeze to cut thru the humidity and a tree blowing soft beside my apartment...god...i love my solitude on nights such a this...a time for reflection...i contemplate my life...life in general...i ask m'self the same unending questions i've asked since i can remember...all the why, how, what if's that my heart desires an answer for...there is a peace i feel on nites like this that reminds me to breathe deep and take a step back from life every once in awhile...there is more than this...more going on that needs/begs exploring...and i'm more than happy to comply..

be real with me, be with me...

strip away the facade...
baby, you don't have to play games...
be real with me...
open your world to me...
this pain you carry ain't my load to bear...
shouldn't be yours either...
let go, let go and breathe...
i'll take care of you.
it's a trip how clouded our pain
can make skies we have yet to wake up to...
past hurts we drag into our future...
we mess up potential joy before
we have a chance to welcome
that smile,
that touch,
that soft kiss...
the games we play to avoid what once was...
we lose ourselves trying to make up rules as we go along...
God, let it go, be real with me...
be real with yourself...
then and only then,
can you be with me...

she allowed this to be...

he yo-yos her feelings with no regard...
playin cruel games with her heart...
he's off scorin another notch...
while her pain is tearing her apart...

she waits for him yet again...
he swaggers in bad as can be...
she knows what he's been about...
disrespect a scent he wears proudly...

somewhere she misplaced her own worth...
foolish hope keepin her with this man...
she taught him how to treat her by tolerating...
he's an ass just because he can...

she had made him her reason...
and forgotten her own rhyme...
she let him mistreat her...
and make her his victim, time after time...

responsibility a double edged sword...
the hand must close tight around the blade...
she must make a choice now...
even as she watches her light fade...

her life is better lived alone...
she must take courage and this truth embrace...
she must take back her power...
her mirror stands ready for her to face...

face herself, face her fears...
face that she allowed this to be...
peel away the layers of how and why...
only then will she truly be free...

live

i want to tear away this facade that has boxed me in for as long...
...as long as i can remember...
i look out at the horizon and i feel a change coming, i long for the tribulations because...
...because i know that with them comes the rebirth of what is true...
we live out these lives deadened to what is real...i want to raise my hands...
...raise my soul to the heavens and fly free of this angry bitterness that has been a prison...
the journey to wakefulness begins with the choice to be eccentric...
...eccentric and perhaps unaccepted, feared, even loathed for my bravery...
the fears of too many have been forced upon me, to include my own fears...
...my own fears have proved to be as chains, holding me back from authentic experience...
i choose to break free these chains...i choose to die to this old way of living so that...
...so that i may finally live, really, truly...LIVE...

it just doesn't matter

there comes a point when you realize, it just doesn't matter...the identity you create for yourself...really doesn't matter...
what matters is getting down to the nitty gritty...the "real" you...that part of you that existed well before any trends, fads, cliques or group orientations...
the real you depends on nothing for survival...it just "is"...no beginning, no end...it is what is good within you...that light that may dim but is never put out...

even your name isn't you...it is merely a title that allows you to traverse through this illusion we so often mistake for reality...
who do you choose to portray? what behavior do you choose to act out...where do you plan to draw the line today between what is right and what is wrong?
what is right? what is wrong? does what you see go against the grain of who you really are? does the box you see yourself in feel as though it is closing in upon you?
then break out...step out of the box and "be" whatever you want to be...choose for yourself, from deep within yourself...
society, as we've allowed it to become, tends toward oppression, the lock down of anything that is free thought, free speech...freedom...
the "rules" are not set in stone...they are simply agreements we've either agreed to or, in our apathetic slumber, didn't bother to question...
the idea that "that's the way it's always been done" is a lie...there was a time it was "done" differently...and...
it can be "done" differently still...
it just doesn't matter...who you portray yourself as, if who you really are never sees the light of day, hence, never gets the chance to make a difference...
it just doesn't matter...

Is there anyone looking at the big picture?

I believe something should be done about our border issues. I believe a way must be found that allows for people who simply want to work to come through our frontera with their heads held high; no more coyotes, no more crossing dangerous land, no more sneaking across. We must find a way to correct the mess we have allowed ourselves to get into in a humane and intelligent way. Racial profiling and scapegoating our undocumented people for all that is wrong with our country is not the way to save our country from the economic downslide we are experiencing. In fact, what we are allowing people like Sheriff Joe to do is not going to help us...rather, it is going to destroy us. Yes, there are many people here without documents. But for the most part, they are working and they are working jobs that Americans won't take. The very same Americans complaining about the presence of the undocumented worker probably says nothing when purchasing products touched by the hands of someone here illegally. They have no problem going out to eat or living in homes built by our undocumented. Will they complain more and more as prices go up and the country literally falls apart. I have no doubt...but will they have the presence of mind to note why prices are shooting up? Will they take a moment to look outside of their tunnel vision to see the incredibly irresponsible way our government is spending our money on a war we have no business being a part of? And when the American citizen is out of a job, without a home or food to eat...will they continue to blame the undocumented worker or will they finally, finally take responsibility for the manner in which he chose to live and the condition of the country he didn't bother to stand up for. It's very easy to point fingers. It's very easy to place blame. While I agree, there does need to be changes made...the changes necessary are not just regarding our borders. The citizens of this country have overspent themselves into a deep hole and now are finding themselves losing everything. Our government has done the same thing on a much larger scale and no one seems willing to look in the mirror and stop the madness. No...it's much easier to allow ourselves to be distracted by idiots like Arpaio. I ask you this...who will we blame when our immigrants decide enough is enough and leave us to the shit we've created for ourselves? They will know how to survive. The immigrant, documented or not, knows how to make due, how to adjust to whatever is thrown at him. Do you know how to be poor? Get ready...it's coming and sooner than you think.

invisible

my beautiful sister...you choose invisibility...hide behind your bruises and tears...
rather than take that first scary step, then another, then another...to freedom...to your real self...
to that sacred divine you that was there when you first breathed this earthly air...
take the chance...step into that unfamiliar place and lay claim to what is yours by birthright...
you stay...you let him continue to beat you down...then you choose death...

i say to you...make yourself known...stop being invisible...

I'm gonna take my 'moment' and run...

I see you from across the room...oh shit...you're making your way toward me...
you have that look on your face...that look that says, somebody else has
yet again...
done you wrong...
it's a mix of anger, disdain, reproach and the constant irritability that becomes second nature...
to one who is a perpetual...
victim...
I try to escape...I look around for a way out...my mind racing for an excuse, any reason...
to get the hell outta your fucking way...
fuck...
too late, i'm backed into a corner and the drone of your self righteousness has begun to...
yet again...
grate upon my nerves...
and then I realize...
why do I allow m'self to suffer through your whining?
why do I let m'self judge you for your judgments?
Doesn't that, in essence, make me...just a little bit...
like you?
I mean...seriously...why do we take ourselves so seriously?
And if we don't like where we are...where we've CHOSEN to be in this moment...
why don't we just leave?
Are we so arrogant to b'lieve that this moment, is somehow...
ok to fuck with, ok to waste...as if we're somehow an exception to the Universal law that governs...
all that is...b'cuz people...all that is ain't guaranteed...and this moment, is precious indeed...
why waste our “nows” by bemoaning our momentary station in life when we could be taking chances...taking risks...living in every sense of the word, rather than simply surviving and becoming...
victims of circumstance.
You make your way towards me...you begin your tirade but, your moment of self pity...at the very least with me...is short lived...because...this time...
i'm gonna take my moment and run...

honesty

when is honesty the hardest to swallow? when you have to be truly, totally and completely honest with yourself...when you find that your next step cannot be made without taking that long, hard look in the mirror, only to face layer upon layer of work still needing to be done...work in progress, yeah, we be that but, we don't face that...it is what it is, until we bring all our mess of emotion and judgment to the table...if we were to peel away the heartbreak we've "decided" to experience, if we could detach ourselves from the emotional standpoint of the situation, whatever it may be...could we still consider ourselves human? or, would we be at the standpoint of Spirit? would we retain some semblance of compassion for the ego facets of ourselves or would we simply turn our backs and walk away? i dunno...nor am i meant to know at this time...i can say, however, what i hope...i would hope that the compassion remain intact...that we look upon "ourselves" with a loving kindness that is borne from that divine place in all of us, outside of us...that place that is us...to the point of this post, or is there a point? perhaps these musings are simply the attempt to capture a momentary glance into why it is we would lie...to each other and, to ourselves...what is the point? who are we trying to fool...in the end, one way or another, it all comes clean in the wash...why tolerate the stains we create with our untruths when the honest truth is so much so the best way to go? difficult tho' it may be to face oneself...the walk into the fire permits the rebirth of greatness, if only we can summon forth that strength to bear that sweet pain...burn away all the facades we've taken so long to build up around us...make the vulnerable in us strong so that when all is said and done, all that is left is all that truly matters...all that is left is the real, most venerated part of who we are...Divine...

He doesn't get me, she doesn't understand...

As she caressed his face, he took hold and gently brought her hand to his lips. She caught her breath and smiled. Butterflies tickled her tummy as he looked deep into her eyes. From a short distance away, these two did not realize they were being watched by another couple, much, much younger. The younger two had just finished another round of arguing; they were hard pressed to remember what the argument was about. They sat on the bench and looked on as the elderly couple on the blanket ignored all the passersby on this Saturday at the park. As the anger in them calmed, they were touched by the love that could be seen emanating off the old man and woman. Did they understand that this love wasn't simply an emotion as it was years of work, understanding and compromise? Could they see that life had not been just roses and passion but had also been pain and monotony, anger and forgiveness? See, this is what is missed much with people. Somehow we think that once we fall in love, that's it, we've found our "one" and our work is done. This a fallacy, a messed up mentality that leads many to quit too soon, many to walk out on relationships that could very well be the best thing that could have happened to them. Our women need to know that men think differently, it's just the way it is. Our men need to know likewise is true about the woman's mentality. We are different and these differences are a good thing, we compliment each other. Too often men and women make each other wrong for what is fundamental within our makeup and because of this, too many families are broken apart, too much is left unsaid that should be said and way too much is said that ought to be re-thought. Little bit of advice from someone who is day by day, painfully yet thankfully seeing the errors of her ways...understand and accept that to reach a man's heart, you must allow him to be who he is...learn the way men think. To reach a woman's heart, a man must do the same. Learn each other, respect each other and, love each other. To be different is good...very good.

hate and my part to play...your part to play

cliche' tho it may be....bear with me....
take two three year old boys...put them in a room together with a box of toys...
one child is white and borne of a culture that has had a long standing hate and fear of anyone non-white...
the other child is black and borne of a culture that has long standing defense system against those from the aforementioned culture...this defense system came to be after much persecution and injustice...the hate they feel came in riding the waves of their evil treatment...it rode in and staked a claim in many hearts...
these two children from such differing cultures sit in this room and play with the toys in the box...
they don't know each other's names but, no matter, they are playing together, enjoying each other's company...
the word tolerance has no place there because there is nothing to tolerate...they are simply two children playing...
getting along...
the past that took place before they were born, this past is nonexistent in their minds...makes no difference to them...
the hate that their parents and those before them feed and carry...this hate has yet to make it's nasty mark within these two children...they are pure and the evil that surrounds them is waiting for its chance...
you see, it's just a matter of time...these children will leave the room soon, say goodbye to one another...
they will go back to their families and they will be brought up listening and learning the way of their cultures...
they will take on the feelings of their people...even if they have nothing to back up those feelings other than the stories told to them from those who experienced and expressed the hate they feed...the hate will have won again...

hate sits and waits...it's very easy to be spread...one feels hate towards another and acts on that hate...the person victimized then takes on hate toward his persecuter and, if given the opportunity, will act on the hate towards another who represents the group from whence the persecuter came...the hate then is passed on and on...growing in strength...the hate becomes immersed within the cultures' mores and societal structure...the hate finds a home and grows...the evil wins again and again and again...
to rise above the hate, even at the hands of monstrous torment and persecution...this requires incredible strength, honesty and forgiveness...this requires a Christ mind...the ability to separate the evil from the vessel carrying it...from the one who would act out on it...there are examples throughout history of those who were able to do this...Buddha, Christ, Ghandi, Nelson Mandela, Mother Theresa, Immaculee Illibigaza, etc., etc., etc.,....to infinity...it is possible for us if it was possible for them...
but, sadly, too many succumb...much easier to give in to the hate...it takes a hold psychologically, emotionally, spiritually, culturally...in so many ways....and it grows...because, we let it...because we don't wake up and take responsibility for our own part...we, each and every one of us, has a part to play...because we choose the easy way makes us as responsible for the evil in the world as those who blatantly committ evil against another...
think about that...hard to swallow isn't it...that you might have a part to play in the suffering happening across the globe, across the ages...
so i ask you...what are you going to do about it? what are we going to do about it?

freedom

freedom is breathing in the night air and feeling satisfied for the moment, for all it's perceived lack...it is a moment guaranteed to no one and yet...when one is present to the gift...one is alive and oh so grateful...

freedom is the full moon's glow as your child revels in the marvel she is witnessing and then, attempts to tell a story about the glorious sight she is privy to...and all because you set aside the "rules" and took your children on a "moonwalk"...

freedom is knowing he is on his way and when he arrives it will be right on time because you will be ready...and all this readiness, what will it be for? for the simplest of pleasures...a soft kiss, a lean on a shoulder, a silent night spent in the companionship of your love, your friend, your soulmate...

freedom...freedom is...no box can hold it, no story can bind it...it is, simply what it is...and it is all that it needs to be...

for the playas

i wrote this after reading an article by a self proclaimed "playa", bragging about his manhood...dumbfuck....this is dedicated to men and women alike...
yes, you'll say i'm "playa hatin"...
is there such a thing as "playa lovin"?
men and women alike who go around scheming and playing games with people's heads and hearts...
you do this because you don't have the fucking courage to be honest.
if you want to fuck around for awhile, sow your oats and stay away from the monogomous relationships,
there ain't nothin wrong with that (if you protect, protect, protect yourself)...
however,
there's something deeply wrong with lying to people,
conning them into thinking you feel more than you really do...
what kind of shit is that?
you play with people's heads and hearts and then walk around like you're the shit...
you're a lyin ass con artist...
there's nothing to be proud of here...
to me you're a snake in the grass who attacks when the other person is at his or her most vulnerable...
those are the people you need to stay away from...
you laugh at the trust someone places in you...
why would you in a million years think that was something to make light of...
trust is something to cherish...
what dumbfucks you are...
YEAH, i'm calling it like i see it...
and i'm callin you out...
i've come across a few people who have been lied to and hurt deeply and quite frankly,
it makes me sick...
these are good people, sweet and honest people...
that anyone would want to play games with their feelings
is a reflection of their own lack of self esteem
and their own inabilities to maintain anything of substance...
you are scared and it shows...
so, for all of you who've been played, don't take it personal...be glad you figured it out and got out...

Enigma

she was an enigma, even to herself...up one day, down the other...both directions taken to the extreme...she longed for the middle ground, a balance within the spectrum of emotions...she didn't know her exhaustion, she'd lived it so long...

she fell to her knees...the pain that permeated her right down to her core threatened to take her very breath away...she prayed, quietly at first but, as her sobs wracked her frame, she began to call out to the Source, beg for some respite...the disappointment of many years, many broken promises weighed on her as though the world had settled in upon her shoulders...she prayed and prayed until her voice was but a whisper, again a quiet begging to the Universe to help her make sense of a hurt so deep and so old as to have been there even before she was born...

and then the dawn came, a light fell gently upon her face and woke her from where she'd let the sleep take her...she sat up slowly, gingerly, feeling a soreness in her body, the result of a violent purging in the form of tears and screams from the night before...she looked out toward the window and saw the same thing she'd seen the day before...only this time it was different...the tree still stood in her front yard, the neighbor's car still sat in his driveway, life seemed the same...but, she was looking thru different eyes...a different vantage point...somewhere in the night, an angel answered her prayers...a simple prayer really...she was given the gift of stillness, of calm...and from this place she was able to see the world from a different vantage point...she saw the light...emanating from everyone, everything...most surprising...she looked to her hand and saw that same light...
she still felt emotions to the extreme...but no longer did she fight the sway back and forth...she flowed with the tide of her feelings and released herself from the prison she had locked herself in...an enigma she remained to the outside world but, within, she was at peace with her uniqueness...for once embracing her intensity...

Eagles

Awesome memory; 20 years old...hanging out with my boyfriend Andy and a group of friends...we're sitting around a fire in the desert in Grand Junction, CO...it's the middle of the night with a thumbnail moon and a multitude of stars...one of my friends, Scott, owns a truck with a sweet stereo system and he's playing Don Henley's "Boys of Summer"...Scott's a fanatic for anything Eagles or close to them...the music sings out into the night while we sit in each other's company, quiet...just diggin the moment...

despierta

she threw open the door in angry frustration...the wind was picking up on this hot day, hinting at the storm coming...she stepped outside and began her run...her hair she'd left out and she looked like a wild woman...she didn't care...years of living for everyone else had begun to take it's toll...what did it get her to sacrifice her needs for others? nothing but disappointment and disillusion...she ran for all she was worth, up the side of a very tall hill, the switchbacks served as a though a race track on which to extend her wrath...her mental dialogue was more a ranting from the inner voice she'd ignored all this time...that still small voice could no longer stay still or small, rather, her inner Spirit grabbed her full attention and made her take responsibility...all this time she'd ignored her own very real, very valid needs...she was sick and tired of this half living...she wanted to live fully, explosively...she hammered her way up the hill and reached it's crest...only then did she slow down to a jog, then a walk...breathing heavily, she looked out over the valley and watched as the storm blew in with certain fury...she felt as though she'd been freed from a cage of her own making...from now on, she would come first...her daughters would learn this from her, treat themselves the way they wanted others to treat them, rather than the other way around...this wasn't about selfish egotism...this was about finding and fulfilling her own joy, her own destiny...it was time to break out and make herself number one in her world...if a man could handle her intensity, by all means, she would dare him to try...if he took up that dare, then he would be worthy of her and of her daughters...if he couldn't handle it...he could be man enough to walk away or damned enough to be tossed out of the way by the sheer power of her will...andale...es hora de vivir!

Declaration to Governments and Religions Worldwide

Your lies transparent...
you care nothing for me.
I see thru you, the fog you shroud yourself with
is lifting...
your ugly face, your ugly soul has no place to hide...
you are afraid of me...
and I know it...
No more power you hold over me.
I reach thru this box and feel~
FEEL!
I am alive! I step thru and breathe the air...
I am FREE!
You may try with all your might to confine me....
HA!
Your attempts are futile.
I walk the way of Old...
I need nothing from you...
I need nothing at all.
I am free.

dance!

Dance, Dance, Dance!
I wanna dance!
In fields and valleys under tall trees and skies of blue.
I wanna dance with abandon - feel my body sway to the music
of thousands of different tribes blended into one.
I wanna let my people's songs immerse with my own and I wanna dance to melodies and beats that span the globe, that span times past and long departed -
cultures and traditions coming together to create music meant for dancing...
meant for loving...
meant for healing...
I wanna dance.

connections

We are as connected to this planet as we are connected to each other. The turmoil we are feeling today is the result of an unconscious (and worldwide) attempt to make ourselves exist contrary to our very natures. Where once we were so aware of our spiritual selves we are now seeking to find ourselves. Where once we lived on a lush, fertile world, we have now (created) a home that is screaming to the Universe Her pain. She too is seeking who we once were. The ancient ways blessed our Mother Earth, the ancient Peoples honored Her and each other. There was respect for Nature, they never took more than what was necessary for survival. Something happened along the way, some kind of change swept over the world and with this change came a need to control/dominate. People who hung on to the old ways were slaughtered as this new world thinking paved our Earth to make way for roads on which to travel, homes in which to settle, farms to cultivate and industries to thrive. Rules and regulations were created and agreed upon by the masses, however, even those masses could not deny what raged within, even as they pushed down the voice till it was but a whisper. Today, there is an awakening happening throughout the planet. I feel it and I know you do too. It's becoming more and more urgent, more and more persistent as we spiral through this Universe and watch our planet shrivel away before our very eyes. There is a dis-ease happening that must be attended to but only with medicines of old. Only with an awakening to our Spiritual selves which means an awakening to our connectedness, a realization that the way we've been going about our day to day is the very way that is destroying us. We must reclaim our dignity as a human race, set aside thoughts that we are somehow unworthy and open our hearts to our own fundamental goodness. Forgive ourselves for our transgressions as we forgive those who would transgress against us and then begin the healing. It begins as a turning within, a brave glance into our own looking glass to see past all the baggage we would choose to carry. We must choose to let go all this unnecessary weight and find the love we've been keeping from our very selves. Once we pass this way, we must then look outward and extend the love to each other. The old ways honored God, honored our Earth, honored each other. If we are to save ourselves and in turn save our home, we must learn again to Love, Honor and Respect. We must learn to reconnect with the vibrant force that courses through and all around us. It is the only way....

class is in session

"When you face a challenge truly, there is no thought. There is just the looking...you see what needs to be solved at that moment, and that looking is fierce and gentle at the same time. And there is an activation of a greater intelligence than whatever you have learned." -- Eckhart Tolle
There's a place we belong to....a place accessible to us all. The rules of religion or of society have no bearing on this place. It's where we go in the quiet moments...when our mind is still and we step outside of the mores we have been programmed to think are reality...it's that twilight place between who we really are and what we would force ourselves to become...when we go there...we are at peace...it is the only "true" reality...all the rest is a story...parts we play on a stage...we are immersed in these roles, all the while knowing, feeling that there is something else, something just outside of our reach...we ramble through life playing our parts and living lives that barely scratch the surface of all that is possible...what we seek, struggle and strive for is there, always...within the profound soul of ourselves...just a breath away...and when we wake...when we begin to access this place, we realize that to truly be alive, we must be able to pull ourselves outside of this "play"...we stand off to the side and watch ourselves...only then can we make the best choices because that is when we get "it", when we can see that the thing we call reality isn't, instead it is a malleable game we play, easily managed...fear and doubt is replaced with a kind of childlike joy...wonderment...anticipation...this is who we really are...students, living out roles in a classroom...what do we choose to take from this place? Who do we choose to be in the face of all the lessons we are presented with?

afraid

we are walking this world asleep...
we may have moments of wakefulness,
when the brilliant reality of who we are
and what we can accomplish confronts us
and challenges us to stay awake...
we struggle to hang on to those moments...
yet, the lure of going back to what is "comfortable"
beckons us, teases us...reaches out to us from a place
of fear and doubt...and we succumb...some of us...
we fall back into our old habits, our patterns ingrained
from years of believing our failures define us...
laziness and apathy take hold and become the chains
binding us in a dungeon of such darkness and despair...
we wallow, convince ourselves that this is reality
we settle for this living death and yet...continuously ask ourselves...
is this it? is this all there is?
"no" says the voice within..."no...you must wake up!"....
the voice is calm yet, there is an urgency...as each day spent asleep
is one less day spent alive...
the fear of not knowing what is next seems almost tangible
like a fist gripping your neck, rationing the air you breathe...
a chokehold that allows you just enough to exist but not to live
better to be afraid, to live life on the edge of losing it all...
to one day wake up and know...you have left the ledge but
instead of falling, you are flying...and you are living...

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

The Checklist

so, i took a chance and expressed my interest in a man...
older than me, i find him so attractive physically...
and then, i was told about his checklist...
checklist?
-30 to 35 years old...(nope, not me)
-rock hard body...(my body's not rock hard...it's nice, soft and curvy)
-will wait on him hand and foot...(oh wow!)
fuck, his checklist doesn't match my checklist...
-a good man
-i prefer him to be older than me, but i'm not writing anyone off in the ten year range
-must be able to make me laugh
-must take care of himself physically...not necessary to be "rock hard" but, healthy
-willing to pretend my jokes are funny
-will cook with me and create with me
-can be quiet in my presence, comfortable with silence
-intelligence a must, as is a sense of humor and confidence
i guess this dude doesn't have a chance with me...

don't

don't...
don't come at me with your overwhelming need
to save me...
don't allow your self serving audacity convince you
it's ok for you to tell me my way is wrong...
the way i live my life, pray to my God, the way i love
hold back your desire to convince me to cross over to your way...
please
live and let live...
i'm cool with conversations, you know,
those peaceful back and forth exchanges of thoughts and ideas...
the kind of talks in which we respect one another's differences...
and enjoy sharing those differences...
but, leave your agendas out...
i don't care to be convinced
and i won't be.

It Ain't The Fall

awww...don't be so quick to write her off...
don't put him back on that shelf...
don't turn away just when you've seen her at her worst...
stick around, pay attention...
how does she recover?
you see...if he comes back from makin a fool of himself...
with some level of grace and hard won dignity...
that is the true sign of his worth...
hell...we all make mistakes...
we all fall down...
it's not that fall that should be considered indicative of our character...
it's the way we get back up that truly paints a picture
of the depth we carry...the profound meaning and reason for our very being...

Speak to Me...

speak to me, speak to me...
soft words that speak to me...
soulfully...
dig down deep and be real to me...
face the thundering fears and those powerful doubts...
and share with me...
you...
not who you think you are or
who you think i want...
but you...
surprise, surprise...
i like you just fine...
even that odd little quirk you have...
that competes with my own odd little quirks...
i wanna know who you are...
but most of all...
i wanna know that you know who you are...
and that you like y'self...
better yet...
that you consider y'self the shit...
but you still keep it humble...
damn, that in and of itself...
is enough...
to have me coming back for more...

"wetback"

Nico Jones, d.j. for Latino 96.3…used the term “wetback” on his show…this was his response to an angry email regarding his choice…”Thanks for taking the time to write such a detailed email…its purpose was to diminish the negative stigma that the word carries. U didn’t hear the entire show I take it? My mom was attacked by a racist…and I wanted to make that word one that means NOTHING!!! I wish I had more time to write…but got to get to show.”…i wrote to jdub who’s response was that by using this word you were opening up a dialogue…while i respect his passion…and i tried, i tried hard to make myself see his perspective…at the end of the day all i can say is…open the dialogue using and displaying your intelligence as a latino…don’t lower yourself to the level of the white racist by borrowing his term and then trying to explain it away as the fault of your community for not showing up at the polls…and to you nico, on your response to your listener all i can say is…
horseshit…if you’re going to put out such an inflammatory word…then, take the time to answer clearly, concisely and authentically…all you did here was write just enough so you could say…”yeah, i answer all my emails”…you start out by thanking him and then you turn around and invalidate his anger by questioning whether he heard all you had to say and then, you take the route of victim turned survivor…”My mom was attacked by a racist…and I wanted to make that word one that means NOTHING!!!” what kind of logic is this? i was verbally attacked by a racist too…that word makes me cringe…no amount of repeating it over and over and over, in whatever arena you want will make me think differently…and for you to say you want it to mean NOTHING by using it on your show…please, do you think the people who listen in are stupid? you’re backpeddling and it’s disrespectful…
terms like “nigger”, “wetback”, “spic”, “kink”, etc., etc., etc., are terms created to minimize…they are what racists used to keep the non-white or non-christian down…it’s their way of ignoring that the person(s) they are referring to is an actual human being…you can’t take that kind of ugly and make it funny or take away it’s meaning…this is tough to get…don’t ever forget the hate and disparagement behind those words…you can’t take a word apart from it’s meaning or it’s purpose for being created….those words have their place in history…sadly….all you’re doing is keeping them fresh on the scene…you open wounds and then you pour salt on them…
i won’t tell you how to do your show…but here’s my consejo, for what it’s worth…challenge your listeners to think for themselves…challenge them to get off their butts and get out there and vote…it’s not enough to spark a protest and encourage them to rise up in the streets…we must as a community understand that to effect change, we have to do the whole nine…you are in a priviledged place in that you have a medium to voice your views loud and clear…man, be smart and think outside the box white america has tried to stuff you in…

BE

Complacency…general-ass-izations…assumptions made, conclusions drawn, all the while ignoring common fucking courtesy…common decency…common respect…
The truth is not subtle, it is screaming to be heard in a world made deaf by denial…it is screaming with a voice made hoarse by the ignorance that runs rampant through the masses…the people should know better…the people DO know better…
Accountability must be accepted…we are responsible for our world, we must shake off the victim’s cloak, raise our faces to the light and accept our birthright, it is our responsibility to live with DIGNITY…racism is the most undignified evil of them all…it discounts the glory of our humanity, it belittles the value of our existence, and by God, I will not stand for it…
I will not stand idly by and allow the parade of foolish self righteousness to continue down the street that is my LIFE, my WORLD…my children deserve better…in fact…it is my duty, my most holy and sacred responsibility to impart within them indignation in the face of ignorance…yes, be insulted when you see someone oppressed….yes, be horrified when you see someone beat down…yes, be offended when you hear a term degrading in it’s hollow delivery…yes, be all these things and then BE MORE…be that someone who steps forward and faces the bullshit…be that someone who never backs down, the thorn in the side of complacent resignation…BE THE DRIVING FORCE OF CHANGE…
And, when all is said and done, and you lie there thinking back on your life…be assured, your voice was heard, however softly you may have spoken, your voice joined the long line of voices on a march toward something better, something more…something we all must look toward and fight for if we are ever going to find all that we are and can be..

she

Rwanda:


She climbed the hill determined to reach the top and make her stand. Something in her had snapped, she wasn’t thinking straight. Her family had suffered in the genocide, many killed off by soldiers whose souls had long departed, men who were able to sleep at night because their hearts felt nothing. It had been a month since she had been told her husband was dead, tortured, his body disposed. She had buried her only son a month earlier and this news of her husband created in her a resolve to die. What was left of her family, a sister and a cousin, stood vigil over her, determined to stop any attempt she might make to end her life. Her days were spent rocking in place, sitting under a tree. Her nights were spent, sleepless, unless sleep overtook her at which point the dreams would awaken her to her own screams. And then, one day…she noticed something…and this little something sparked a change in her…a new resolve that brought back a light to her eye. She realized she was with child and this new life was the catalyst she needed to awaken from her deep, deep sadness. The sadness remained but, no longer did it dictate her choices. On this day, she climbed a hill and stood with her fist raised. The clouds opened up and released a warm rain. Drenched she stood, fist to the sky. “I AM ALIVE!” she said, softly…it was enough to have found the strength to say these words…the energy invoked was powerful…she looked in the face of evil and with unwavering courage, she said, “I AM ALIVE”.

Iraq:

Her only crime was walking outside without covering her face. The baby ran out the front door, so, she gave chase and in doing so, brought upon her a night of hell. He beat her soundly, stopping only to eat his nightly meal, which he demanded she prepare. She lay down while he finished eating, waiting for him to continue his punishment. The next morning, she prepared his clothes for the day, saw to his breakfast, and that of her children. He left her a warning, she could still feel the sting on her cheek. He left and after she saw the children off, she pulled up a small section of their wood floor and retrieved a hidden notebook. Within the pages she wrote, her dreams, her stories, her ideas. She lived lives unknown to anyone else and she created characters that were real to her, characters that gave her strength. No matter the abuse she suffered from her husband’s hands, she found a way, a place to go to for solace. This place wasn’t real, yet…it was to her, a sanctuary. In this place she was loved, in this place she walked with her face defiantly open, her heart defiantly free.

U.S.A.:

He left her with 5 children. Something about, “This shit is too hard, I’ll be back, I’ll send money, blah, blah, blah.” He never came back and, the money never came. She had to figure it out and take care of her babies. She had always worked, but, one job now was not enough. So, she took on working four nights per week in a grocery store, luckily right down the street from her house. The extra money was slim, but, it was enough to pay the bills. She lived in a broken down neighborhood, with broken hearted people, but somehow, she kept her dignity intact. She kept on keepin on and ruled with an iron fist and a loving heart. She had to…her five children were not about to run around loose in the ghetto, getting into all kinds of mess. She was not above yanking her son off the basketball court by his ear if he chose to ignore her calling him in. And the boys who came flocking to her door were chased away by her chilling looks, while her daughters grumbled in the background. Her children hated this, yet, they didn’t…strange paradigm indeed. And the other children in the neighborhood were attracted to her home, her kitchen to be exact. She cooked well and somehow, she cooked enough. Enough for her own and for children whose parents had long since given up. She never gave up and they sensed this. Many times they could be found at her home with a hot meal in front of them and with her asking them 20 questions about their school, their thoughts, their dreams. She refused to give up her own dreams, she refused to give up period.

Women, I say to you…you are strong, you are worthy and you are treasured…you have free will…if a situation is such that you cannot escape…I hope that you find escape in other ways…mankind’s divinity…both that of woman or man…is not dictated by man (although man deludes himself into thinking it is)…it is a gift from something more…it is our birthright.

afterglow

mmmm, wow….he was amazing…you were amazing…passionate, uninhibited…you made making love an art, a celebration of intimacy and ecstacy….as you settle into the afterglow, you both lie there content…no need for qualifying words, for some nonsensical chatter…you complement each other and the comfortable silence speaks volumes of the depth of respect and love you share…in your heart of hearts, your soul is dancing with the realization that you have found him…and you cherish this dawning, you realize further that to have found him as you did, you had to first suffer…you had to doubt yourself, lose yourself, cry to yourself many a sleepless night, until one glorious moment you found that you needed no one to validate you…once this thought sank in and truly became an integral part of this wonderful being that is you…what an amazing happening, you found him…and in the afterglow, you also found you…

What would he think...

…when he saw her naked, for the first time? Oh, she was so worried. She’d placed so much focus on her children, on taking care of house and home, she’d long forgotten what the touch of a man felt like. Her children were older and her life a bit slower, so, every once in a while, she’d take herself down to the bookstore, candy store for the brain. Here she’d peruse any number of titles, order a latte and wallow in decadent peace and quiet. It was on just such an excursion that she met….him. She didn’t notice him right away, but, he noticed her. When she realized she was being watched, she found herself….what? Blushing? What was this? She wasn’t familiar anymore with this reaction, but, he was so handsome! He was also very insightful for he noted her blush and decided on an easy going, non threatening approach. “Hi…”. And so their relationship began. Slow and easy, no definitions needed, no qualifying terminology, just two people enjoying each other and the attraction that grew each passing day. She let him meet her children and, although the girls were reserved, the youngest voiced what apparently had been agreed upon by all of them…,”it’s nice to hear you giggle Mom.”
What would he think when he saw her naked, for the first time? She looked at her belly, not so flat anymore. She counted the stretchmarks, only to find them countless. A groan escaped her lips…she couldn’t go through with this…and then he walked in. She caught herself, grabbed the corner of a sheet to cover her vulnerability. He was very insightful, he noticed her blush and…he understood. He crossed the length of the room and took her into his arms. He then did the unpredictable…he pulled the sheet down and kissed each stretchmark. He pointed out what they represented and with poetic ease and sweet respect, he adored her sacrifice. He honored the scars she’d taken on to birth her children and he honored her for having the resolve to do her best by her babies.
And that night, she realized what she’d always been and never allowed to step forth…she was a full on woman, the earthy, down to earth real kind that can make a man shudder in his ecstacy and one who can revel in her own mystical, spiritual, natural wonderfulness.

At last…exhale…..at last….

We the People

We the People of the United States-
brown, red, yellow, white and black…
we must awaken our sleeping masses-
we must take this country back.
Freedom is in danger of becoming
a dream of the past-
I say to thee, we must step up
and do something fast.
When big business and hidden agendas
are running the show-
We the People must rise and tell
this government NO.
You serve US, Congress with your
pockets so deep-
Your promises to us, we DEMAND
that you keep.
Our masses must gather and gather
strong-
We have power in our numbers to
correct all that is wrong.
One by one we must exercise
our sacred right-
We must use our vote, our most
powerful weapon in this fight.
This president has proven
time and again-
that We the People do not
matter, we do not matter to him.
His evil reign has caused such strife
and destruction-
We the People must come to OUR
OWN defense and protection.
VOTE, my people - brown, red,
yellow, white and black…
We must awaken our sleeping
masses and TAKE OUR COUNTRY BACK!

She was enough...

She stood in the doorway of her parents’ home. A grown woman, she looked out at the world as though for the first time. She leaned against the door frame and let her mind wander back to when she was younger, her mind open and her heart naive. She remembered college where they’d first met. He swept her off her feet and it was not long after that they married. She was happy but, her joy was short lived. The abuse began verbally. He would softly insult her intelligence, in subtle ways; he would berate her choices, her abilities, and her worth. She tolerated his words, convincing herself that if she just hung on, she would be able to change him. As the years progressed, so did his disrespect and disdain. He began drinking and the abuse turned physical. She became very good at hiding the bruises and she became very adept at lying. The day finally came when she could no longer continue lying, not even to herself. He beat her severely on this day. While he lay in a drunken stupor, she walked out the front door. Her mind had snapped, she didn’t bother to hide the marks of his hands on her face. Bleeding, with tears flowing, she walked until she reached her brother’s home, a few miles away. He wasn’t there, so she sat on the porch swing and rocked. She rocked and went inside of herself. This was where her brother found her, lost in her own world. He took her to the hospital where it was later discovered she was pregnant. Her mother whispered the news to her silent daughter. That night, she came out of her world. Something stirred in her soul and this brand new mother formed a resolve. No more…simple words that became her mantra, “no more”. She followed all the recommended procedures to keep him away. She asked for a restraining order, she moved in with her parents, she went to counseling and filed for divorce. The thought of this new life growing inside her gave her the strength to learn again who she was. The work to rebuild herself was hard and painful. But, she kept at it and what she found was love like she’d never known before, true and unconditional. She fell in love with herself and like a match had been thrown into her soul, she burned with this emotion. She thrived with the knowledge that she was enough, she was complete and she was perfect. She grew in size and then, one day it was time. She gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. As she lay holding her child, she glowed and thanked the Spirit for this joy she felt in her heart. She looked at her baby and accepted the responsibility handed to her to be mother, teacher, guide and friend. Two years later, as she stood in the doorway of her parents’ home, she marveled at the levels she’d traversed on her journey to this moment. She was enough and no man could ever take that away from her. The layers she’d peeled away had been painful to look at but, look at them she did. She sat with the woman she once was and gave her compassion so that the woman she once was could leave and never return. The woman she had become was wise, loving, strong and kind. She knew she had more to do, more to learn. Her journey had brought her far, but she had farther yet to go. Still and all, with this truth in mind, she held tight to another truth, another simple yet profound knowledge…she was enough and going backwards was simply not an option. She was enough….

mary poppins and the toilet training torture

supercalifragilesticexpeealidocious
supercalifragilesticexpeealidocious
supercalifragilesticexpeealidocious
supercalifragilesticexpeealidocious
supercalifragilesticexpeealidocious
supercalifragilesticexpeealidocious….
i wish there were more choices of font offered on this blog…although, who am i to complain, it’s not costing me anything…but, a little garamond or bookman antiqua would be nice…lucida sans serif is cool too…
i’m just wasting time right now while i wait for two toddlers to scream out that they are done on the toilet, one is using the guest bathroom, the other is using mine…the noise is unbelievable…the two year old keeps yelling caca…so, apparently that is her goal…she first yelled pee pee…i think she has a need to tell me everything she is going to do…i hope she grows out of that…the three year old will yell incessantly that she is done yet, when i run in there…she suddenly has more to do…i really look forward to the day where i do not play such an integral part of this whole ritual….can you tell i’m not writing this all at once? i’ve been up now at least 6 times to see to these little crumb chasers…the two year old is insisting she wipe herself…i would gladly give up that chore, however, she will use up an entire roll of toilet paper in the span of 3.45 seconds…then, i will wander into the bathroom only to find the toilet overflowing with no end in sight….ok….the ordeal is over, at least for a couple more hours…
i’m back…i just found my two year old stuffing cotton balls in her mouth…when she saw me approach she picked up speed…what the hell…i’m so confused…what is so yummy about a cotton ball…so, i tell her to open her mouth and she clamps it shut…lockjaw on a two year old is almost impossible to pry open but, there is hope…i held her nose…she is stubborn, turned a blue gray before she gave in…
i am now going to pour myself a glass of wine…my first of many…these kids are driving me to drink…

caught a glimpse of god today

I caught a glimpse of God today,
in my little girl’s smile as she greeted me this morning.
She crawled up into my arms and hugged me tight,
and for a moment she and I were all that were.
I saw God this late evening,
as an elderly lady slowly made her way across the street.
The light turned green before she made it through the cross walk, yet…
no one honked their horns and I even saw people smile her way…patient.
I imparted God’s will when I took a moment to forgive another for a transgression that, in hindsight, really didn’t matter.
That moment of forgiveness blossomed into a flowing of goodness and
good feeling that grew and grew as our conversation continued.
I felt God’s presence in an email sent to me,
an email expressing a love both profound and pure between two of God’s children, one of which I am honored to call my friend and spiritual mentor.
His words evoked in me a sense of joy that God’s love finds us all when we find each other, most often when we least expect it….God’s surprise gift.
We don’t have to look far to see, feel and know God….we just have to open our eyes and wait…we will catch a glimpse….

Legacy

i feel a level of intensity..
i say stand up against the insanity,
stop complaining…take responsibility
the state of the world is up to you and me…
ultimately, fundamentally.
we have strength enough to move mountains you and i…
i won’t lay down, let apathy rule and i wait to die
i want to do all i can, or at least i must try
tears may fall, yet i’ll continue searching as i cry
why not try?
i seek to be all that I can be
i seek for others who see as i see
and, i yearn to learn from those who see differently
to my children this i will impart, this is my destiny
my legacy.

Race Day

I have a memory, vivid and clear
It’s monsoon season and race day.
I’m at the starting line, swallowing my fear,
Butterflies swirling in my belly won’t go away
I’ve trained long and hard for this the final race
The training has been thorough, though rough.
The strategy is to maintain a controlled pace,
Mile after mile I must stay tough
There is this one girl, quite my competitor,
We’ve been head to head all season
I want so badly to win, to beat her,
To be the best is all the reason.
We have deep respect for one another,
She and I have raced over the years.
And this, our senior year is the time to prove to each other,
The anticipation almost brings me to tears
The rain starts to fall as we take our mark
The gun is poised and ready,
The clouds above have made the day dark
The smell of the storm is quite heady
He fires the gun and we begin our run,
Three miles to go, seems so distant!
The razorbacks I consider fun,
But the hills, oh man, pain consistent!
Something’s happening, not sure what it is,
Could it be I’m enjoying this race?
I feel in control, thinking well through this,
I’m in charge, dag, what a suuuuweeeet pace!
Maybe it’s this storm, rainin down on my head,
Oh I don’t know but, it’s electrifying!
Rather than pain, I’m feeling joy instead,
And, this run, yes!, it’s satisfying!
We round a bend, we’re truly racing,
The end is just a sprint away
It feels like this one is mine for the taking,
Yes, indeed, this is my day
I reach the tape and I thrust my body through,
I beat her, oh man, I’m proven best
The months of training have spoken true.
I’ve earned a break, I deserve a rest.
What’s more, I realized a lesson well needed,
This day of all days, this race most essential.
My heart’s desires my body has heeded,
I’ve learned to trust I can reach my full potential.
To let myself go, to trust all my toil,
Has proven oh so rewarding,
All I need do, is let my feet hit the soil,
Let my body dance and my soul sing.

Temple Divine

I am a temple divine,
Home to a soul,
A spirit God sent
Seeking desperately to stay awake.
You would look at me as though
A piece of property
A less than for you to control
And degrade.
But, I am free
And oh so fortunate
Because, unlike many other divine entities,
I have been privy to a universal knowledge
This knowledge you can’t take away…
With your harsh words and judgments…
I am a temple divine,
And I know it.

What do you do?

What do you do when the dreams you had as a child fade away?
Where do you go when your hiding places are discovered?
What is left when who you thought you were leaves?
I ask myself these questions and I realize that I am at a crossroads.
I can continue down a path of discovery or, I can go the path of ignorance,
Ignoring who I really am in favor of who I think people will accept.
I choose the journey of self reflection.
I choose to see as a child,
Love as a child,
Laugh as a child.
Thank you God,
What are we going to learn today?

The Puzzle

One moment in time, long ago, a Creative Source decided to break up Her puzzle. She took a breath and blew upon Her puzzle and watched the pieces scatter. The pieces were of many shapes and sizes, many types and styles. As each piece settled on a place to lay, the process of putting the puzzle together began. All of the pieces were sentient. Many were content to wait for the Creative Source to decide when to bring them together. There were, however, a great many pieces who held questions within their being. The Creative Source purposefully gave these questions to them so that they might seek each other out and put themselves back into the puzzle.
These pieces called themselves, Human. Each human contained in their deepest selves the complete knowledge of who they were and where they had come from. The Creative Source diversified the humans so that each could access different levels of information from inside their souls. The key to accessing more information was in speaking and asking each other questions. The more sharing they did, the more they learned about themselves.
As time progressed, some of the humans decided that the information they held was the only right information there was. They closed themselves off from others, or they fought to force their beliefs on others. They had forgotten the secret was in sharing and sharing with love for each other and all puzzle pieces.
Now, there were many humans who sought earnestly to share and these souls were called seekers. They, in their sharing, found puzzle pieces who were like them, yet different. They found that they “fit” with other puzzle pieces and the result was a sacred sense of belonging. It was just a feeling that in learning from each other, they were doing “right”. The Creative Source was well pleased. He would sometimes attend gatherings where two or more shared with love and joy. Sometimes, He would destine a particular human with all the knowledge. This human was said to be a teacher or a master. He or she possessed great love and saw the complete puzzle within his or her mind’s eye. He saw that whether the puzzle was complete or whether the pieces were disbursed, there was great beauty. The pieces were (and are) complete in and of themselves. Sometimes the teacher would suffer greatly, but always maintained love and serenity within. They knew that the puzzle would be apart only for a time. One day the Creative Source would show all the pieces their wondrous truths. One day there would be a completing.
(originally written
03-Dec-97)

god is too big to fit inside one religion

Why do some organized religions have the standard that to reach God, the only way to do so is through them? I say that to reach God all one needs do is look within themselves and each other. God is in all of us and in all that is around us. God is love and ever accessible to us all.

monsoon!

I remember
Arizona
and the storms that would wake the desert.
There was energy in the air as the clouds moved in,
blackening the sky.
I imagined the energy coming from the land
as She begged the sky to let loose
the waters contained
in the canteens of the clouds.
The storm would tease Mother Earth.
Carried on his winds
was the sweet smell of rain.
He would wave this aroma
through the arms of the cactus.
It seemed almost too much to bear.
Even the dust would gather in twisting frenzy
as though to challenge the skies.
The thunder sounded like laughter
and the tension grew with every lightning strike.
A drop would fall, then two, three.
Soon, the sky opened completely
and released a wonderful torrent of rain.
Joy was visible in all the life around me.
After a time, the storm would slow down
and stop for awhile.
The lizards would peek out from hiding places
and chase small insects that had ventured from their spots.
Birds would sing of their thanks
from tree-tops and cactus limbs.
No symphony captured notes
as sweetly as these winged creatures were releasing.
I remember the air being warm
and a cool breeze softly caressing all life.
I especially remember my happiness
during these storms.
I felt connected to the land and kin to all the creatures.
I would go out to the desert
and run along Her trails with wild abandonment.
I know in these precious times I was closer to our Creator
than any other time.
Terms like civilization and rules and society meant nothing to me.
Monsoon was cleansing for the land
and for the inhabitants upon the land.
Those people who were awake (and willing) were able,
for awhile, to shake themselves off and feel
the freedom that comes from the oneness of nature.
There was and is a familiarity
about this freedom I speak of.
We all lived it once, long ago.
We still know it now,
when we gaze upon a blossoming flower
or listen to the wind in the trees.
I believe a monsoon is coming.
I think we all feel it,
some more than others.
Some say it will be a bad storm,
I say it will be a good one,
a cleansing rain.
A time is coming when love will be uppermost in our hearts
and we will be free again.
I say, why wait?
Let’s bring love back into our hearts and out to all people.
Freedom is just a thought away.
Get ready for the storm!