Duality

She sees right through me
with a practiced eye
and a knowing nod.

The power within her
pulses outward toward
my kneeling form
enveloping
the entirety of my
unease.

And just like that,
she swallows my discontent.

And though it catches in
her throat
and her
eyes bulge with effort,
she does not choke,
but smiles
as I stand
to save her.

Islands

Beautiful island in my soul
Can't find the shade,
Can't  stay here alone.

Tried to bring you with me
only to find,
you have your own
and can't live long on mine.

Passing by

walking along corridors
filled with colors
so rich with
smooth brown skin
enriched with pinpricks
heavy loads
cast upon
our backs

a momentary glance
eyes deep with
last night's echoes
tomorrow's false starts
on the edge
of revelation
shadowed by
apathy

a guarded look
unseen
shuffling past
faces lit
by miniature screens
connections
unrecquited
moving off
into the night

Funny how words that mean nothing also mean everything.

And so the seasons have turned and brought me back to the warmth of myself.
I am back beside healing waters and the sound of fresh tides wash across my path.

My new challenge? How do I incorporate the shrieks and cries of my babies and the pull for needed sustenance into the sacred arena of my mind's thinking space? Beyond dreaming of their existence, how do I incorporate dreams come true into the fabric of my fantasy?

Funny how I've resisted true writing practice, ritual writing practice, so caught up and caught back by the needed tasks of blogs expected.  Things I want to say and share, but not the exact direction of my thoughts, but still a good place. A good place for me to visit and rest among the warm vibes and good feeling and peaceful happiness.

Funny how words that mean nothing also mean everything.

Happiness...I can't touch it,
but I know when it touches me
ripples of its body rush toward me
in waves.
Sometimes, I ride above them,
wind in my hair.
other times, I dive beneath them
to the bottom
and though the weight of
the water threatens
to overcome me,
I feel myself
rising without effort
bursting through
gasping for air and
blinded by the sun.

What does it mean when I ask you to pray for me?

Awaiting tomorrow
A moment of weakness has
brought me to the brink of fear,

the place where I can feel
the uncertainty of life directly
beside me, directly before me

and some change is on the verge
of driving into
my consciousness.

I feel the weight of worry
the pressure of dreams
steadily descending

but, when I call out
and ask you to pray for me,
to lift me up in your consciousness
to share the power of
a lifetime of sunrises
with me--

It is only because
I still see a glistening beneath
the falling stone
and it is your light I see,
radiant and fresh.

When I ask you to pray
for me...
I won't tell you what
words to use.
Your language is unknown to me
but, I will feel the door
you open,
the slow hiss
of a new born wind
between the stone fissures.

I will be freed as I walk through
and your power
will continue to work its way
into granite and sandstone.

When I ask you to pray for me
I am not trying
to push you to your
knees.

No, but I can bow down
palms flat to the earth
breathing in the sweet scent of fresh
grasses
the taste of dirt and
dried leaves
and earthworms
filling my mouth.

When I ask you to pray for me...

I hope you will immerse yourself
in our world,
to smell it and feel it
and hold it with me...
to taste it and savor it.

Our strength combined stretches
across the cracks
and we can sing together
in silent reverence
repeating a wordless prayer
remembered,
recalled,
retrieved from our bones.

Lost Child

Out of the corner of my eye
I see you standing there
hair moving with the breeze
some stickiness from your last
snack on your soft cheeks

wafting across from there to here
I smell your oatmeal
and brown sugar scent

I can almost catch
the sound of your
breath,
light and even

 I reach out
to pull you close
and I find
my arms embracing
emptiness

Drifted

I have lost you to the world. It has taken you away and even though I was looking and ready to lock the gate against the assault of new ideas, louder voices, closer ties, I failed.

You have walked forward and into the dawning of the next phase. A momentary remembrance of the songs we once sang have stopped you from saying good bye, but I feel the words in the air.

Oh how I long to lure you back with a witty story, an outrageous joke or even pitiful tears...but I have lost my magic. There is no need to hold my hand...

it is too cold.