Friday’s Focus—A Note to a Friend

A truly personal “catching the tiger by the tail” moment in which I was simply the medium for the way this poem came through. This has been a week of transitions and moments of movement and movement and movement of people and events, all with a surprising softness in its unfolding. It’s almost as though the blocks and stop-gaps of the past few months’ energy is slowly exhaling her release and like a pebble thrown into the water, the circles are gently lapping outward ever wider. Borne to me early one morning, here is a poem called, A Note to a Friend:

Butterfly kisses and
Ladybug hugs.
Rainy day rainbows,
And fat, garden slugs.

With some tea in our cups,
We sit, you and I.
Two good friends…still…
All these years, by and bye.

We’ll talk of days past
And the hours to come;
Watch dragonflies and sparrows,
And maybe hear honeybees hum.

Neither distance nor years
Can keep us apart as dear friends.
All the magic’s still here,
Seen through a kaleidoscope lens.

Our cups, they’re now empty,
And the church bells, they chime.
This is not a good-bye
But rather, so long… ’till next time.

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#takingitdeeper

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Midnight Awakenings

The dogs are barking,
The rabbit came back,
And the fox is on the run.

The sentry caws from his post
On high
Until the shaking of the branches
Launches him into flight.

The cacophony of unrest reverberates
In my eyes and ears and has
Awakened both feather and fur
As the clouds wrap the night in its mist.

My toes tap tap tap
To the drip plip drip
Of the raindrops from the spout in the garden.

Am I dancing with an angel or the devil
In disguise?
The exquisite beating of my heart
Aches with love and devotion
Ever since I laid eyes on you.

The mid-night is velvet and its
Moon nestled like a pearl in a bed of starry lace.

In grace, you absolve me and finally forgiven,
I lay my hand in yours and I rest my
soul in the solace of your faith.

#poetry #love #mysticism #God #religion #faith

An Afternoon Memory in the Making

The church bells ring while the priest absolves the sinners
and the pigeons explode upward in flight.

The sky empties just as quickly as feathers
settle back down amongst the sandals and crumbs.

Your eyes smile at me as you pour the wine.

I inhale the smell that is this place and this moment, and
I decide, that dandelions are flowers, too.

And That’s How It Started

Tell me about the first time
that
you climbed a tree
or ran a mile.

Tell me about the first time
you
rode a bike
or caught a ball.

Tell me about the one time
you
got caught in the rain
and a
stranger gave you his umbrella.

Tell me, again, about the time
he called when he said he would,
and then met you at the door with flowers.

Tell me.
Tell me this…
Tell me that…
Tell me these things,
and more.

And I will tell you, too.

We braided our stories over coffee and tea.

That is how it started. This is how we started.

Now as we sit across from each other,
steam rising from our mugs,
the words from our stories hang between us.

We have grown and settled to a place
that is comfortable and where speaking is not really needed.
Just a look or a gesture conveys
all we need to say.

The hours and years of the intimacy of all that I told you…

And all that you told me…
of the first time
that
you climbed a tree
or ran a mile….

Castles in My Mind

Inspiration struck early this morning driving me from my sleep and directly to my computer. I had no idea what was buzzing in me to get out but I just knew something was there. I settled down in the peace and quiet of a new day in this New Year and opened to a blank page. Immediately I was a witness to what my fingers typed. Words were dictated through me. It was one of those magical moments when I truly felt like a vessel and I was happy to be at least cognizant to realize that what was happening was because of something bigger than me. It is a haunting reveal that has come from somewhere deep and wide. I wasn’t going to post this but then I changed my mind and so here it is:

I hold the key but you hold the door.
Which gets me the freedom I so long for?

The walls around me are made of stone and brick,
I’ve tried to knock them down but still, they’re too thick.

I plead with you and beg you to release me; let me go,
but I fear that I’ve failed to convince you as your silence tells me so.

We did have our memories, our smiles, and our joys,
but you’ve changed, as have I, and I’m no longer your toy.

I bribe you, I beseech you, I cry out your name
but the walls they still hold me, prisoner in this cell of my pain.

One day it comes when I give up and give in.
As I collapse to the floor,
I wonder how much more can I take; will I ever win?

With one last effort I raise up my head
replacing failure and exhaustion with a prayer in its stead.

I lean on the wall from my weakness and pain,
and as I rise slowly, I see each stone has a name.

The names are Crazy and Lazy and Stupid and Slow.
I remember—all these words—I remember, I know.

I stared at the words finding more with each turn.
Each stone, each piece, their insults sting and they burn.

Slowly, I recognized the writing on the walls.
It was me who wrote them, and thus built this here space, my words lining the halls.

Enough! No more! I shouted, my words echoing back
as my fists I pounded out a full-fledged attack.

I found a crack in the wall and dug my fingers in deep;
I pushed and I pulled now fully awake from my sleep.

First one stone then another, soon the sun shone its way in.
I poked my head through the hole finally seeing from the darkness within.

The stones now fell faster breaking free of their walls,
as I pulled and I tugged, opening a hole in these halls.

At last I stepped through and crawled on my knees,
as the birds sang their songs and the sun shone through the trees.

Still dazed and confused, the sweetest air I now breathed,
I didn’t understand any of it, most of all the why me?

I picked up a stone, its carved words read clearly now,
I finally understood at the whys and the whens and most importantly the how.

The room I was in was a prison of my making,
and when I cried out to you it was really me I was forsaking.

I believed in those words of hate, shame, and fear
and I surrounded myself with them, I see it all now so clear.

There was never a door, I didn’t build one you see,
but what I still had that made the difference was in my holding the key.

I was once my own prisoner with my beliefs as my walls,
but I decided right then I’ll never go back to those halls.

I found in me the freedom to use kinder words,
no longer fearing I’d be looked upon as being absurd.

I picked up each stone from my past years’ abode
and threw them far and away from what used to be my home.

The rubble left behind of my dismemberment,
holds no sadness or shame, instead happiness and content.

Onward I walk now with more freedom than I’ve known,
my past will stay past and only good thoughts will I own.

I know as you read this, you saw your story in me,
so remember dear reader, you too, hold your key.

Nightshade: A Poem Born

I call out to you, do you hear me?
I reach out to you, do you feel me?
I look for you, do you see me?

In the darkest of hours, the full moon lights the path
and it would only take the slightest lift of my gaze to recognize the way, but I don’t.

I’m afraid.

If only….

Instead, I stay focused with eyelids down, staring at my one foot move in front of the other.
The power of my intention is all that is keeping my feet steady and sure and moving.

One step at a time.

I can feel the rush of bats wings as they fly past me, and then hear the owl hooting in its perch, sounding so close, I stop mid-step for but a moment.
The wolf joins the nighttime raucous with its howl and my flesh breaks out into goosebumps.

You are near.

I pull the hood of my cloak closer over my head and gather the folds at my neck.

Searching for you with my eyes is no longer enough. I start to shake and dance my wild woman awake so now I can better seek you out with my soul. The tethers of the wind bring your scent to me, confirming that you are no longer just near, but you are here.

Right here.
Right in front of me.
Right beside me.

I still my feet on the path, close my eyes, and will my body to stay standing. I break out in goosebumps again as I feel your energy kissing mine.

My eyes raise slowly, intending to rest on the site of Grandmother Moon, but instead I see you, and I begin to touch you with my hands.

We pull each other deeper into life’s embrace as I release the wild woman inside me in ecstasy.

Twilight

Aching in the beauty of the grace of love in this moment,

my cells and emotions remember a past my mind refuses to acknowledge.

My heart aches as it grasps at the memory and I  silently scream yes/no!

Yes, I remember; No, please, not all that pain again.

The exquisiteness brings tears to my eyes.

Maybe it’s painful only because I cannot hold all of that love, all of that grace, and sweetness in this body and so I have no choice but to surrender and

I start to do so

with each tear that silently rolls down my cheek.

My hands cover my heart in prayer as I

drown

in the agony

of the ecstasy.