Sunday, October 18, 2015

Floating on the pond

I am floating
Resting gently upon the surface of the pond
Like a leaf that has fallen from the tree 
I float on the surface 
A girl with pale blonde hair rests beside me, a dream I had last night 
I rescued her from death, grabbed her from being crushed
And now she rests on the pond and I gather her to me
Another dream of a parsimmon fruit, a dream about old memories, sweet and longed for
I cried for the memories that this sweetness brought to me
And now it to rests on the surface of the pond
Together the girl and the parsimmon and me, we are here
Dreams and memories and emotions all one, floating and resting, being 

Sunday, September 20, 2015

The monsters are circling.

There is nothing left in that place.
As hard as I try, I cannot.
The effort leaves me anxious and scared
So here I stay, in this desolate place. 
I must meditate on this change.
I must see it empty, feel it to be so.

Now I can see the vastness of the landscape.
Strange to think anything lived here, strange to think I tried to pretend.
Fear does strange things, it will do anything to keep us alive. 
So now that I know, I can no longer pretend. 
I see what I've done.
Now I see the monsters circling.
Now they see me staring back.
I am afraid, but not in the same way I was before.
Now my fear comes from clarity instead of self delusion.
Now my sight sees what waits. 
Now I see the anger and hunger in the monsters that circle my still figure.
Now they see me and my fear, and my ferocity.
I can see their fear too. 
And because of how I am pieced together, I am sad.
I am sad I can longer pretend.
I am sad I cannot let the monsters feed on my flesh, because I know they will suffer and starve.
But it must be done and so it begins
So they will come, and I will starve them and become stronger as they circle me in frustration.
Howling in hunger.
And I must keep my eyes open, and watch them and love them anyway.
As they fade and I become more solid and the land becomes lush.

Tuesday, September 15, 2015

The warm place

Inside this place
Away from the struggles of waking
There is a place where I can be

The light is warm
Filtered inside leaves
The old dead trees standing alongside
The young 
All growing together
No endings

A place to let thoughts rest

Let them rest
Let them become part of the light
Let the past become part of the dead leaves and earth
Let them nourish the roots of the trees

Standing quietly 

The warmth, the life of the forest
My sanctuary





Tuesday, September 8, 2015

The Autumn Woman

She wears a cloak of leaves
Rooting herself in the earth
She is preparing for the long winter

And so she must let go
Shedding the summer's bounty
All beauty is transient 
All gains fleeting

Autumn is a difficult season
It does have its own secret joys
Because letting go means becoming lighter
Because truth is in the inner, not the outer

Letting go is no small task
It requires special attention to details
You would never let go of your core
No, that you would protect and nourish
And so ready yourself for the season ahead

The Autumn Woman is wise
She lets go of the right things
And protects the core
She knows her true beauty lies within
And she is at peace 
Longing for the restful times ahead
She does not fear the winter
She embraces it, and so come spring
She will thrive and her roots deeper inside the earth
Ready for the rotation of the seasons once again 

Saturday, September 5, 2015

The man and the moon

She walks across the earth
Alone in the twilight
She calls to him

He emerges from the dark places
Inside the branches of the trees
Of the ancient forests
Forgotten by man
Hidden in the last remnants of the faerie

He is her companion
A guardian of her heart
He loves her cool beauty
Her white face
Her changing ways

She loves him in return
His ancient laugh
Dark eyes, open to the mysterious
Dark wisdom, knower of truth

They walk together each night
Breathing in the coolness 
Taking in the dreams of the world
Feeling the growth of the plants and flowers
Who all secretly worship her, moon goddess

He stares at her beauty as she looks at a small flower
Hiding his awe
And as she turns to look at him
She smiles, knowingly

Both entranced by each other
Love and joy for the love of night's gifts
They walk until the sun rises
And return to slumber as the world wakes up.


Thursday, September 3, 2015

The singing heart.

I was going to write a poem about
How my heart could sing louder
Than yours
But
That's not the purpose of my heart

I confess I'm still learning 
I confess my heart sings 
A little too loud
I'm still insecure
That my song sounds ugly
So I over compensate
I'm a work in progress

No, a heart's song
Is quiet and strong
It listens to the other songs sung
And seeks to support, to harmonize

So I will wait to hear your song
And hum along until I can sing
Clear and strong




Sunday, August 30, 2015

The ground trembles...

The ground trembles 
Beneath my feet
As I enter into the forest
My forest, my refuge

I walk forward regardless
Unsure of what is causing 
The tremors
And then it happens...

Underneath my feet 
A sapling erupts
A new forest is growing 
Quickly, moving upwards
It pierces my flesh

Limbs reach through me
I am immobilized 
I am rooted
I don't even have a moment to scream 

My body is encased
My arms reaching up inside 
I am blind and cannot hear you

This moment lasts but a minute
A minute, a moment
Reality is broken for me
No longer having access to mine
I sink down into my core

Darkness and silence
Darkness and silence
Wait...
There is a gentle sensation
Beneath me
Like small hairs, moving, seeking something...
Earth humming against the filaments, our roots

The roots cast out
Searching and feeling, singing
The whole tree is singing
I feel the vibrations 
Humming, my heart starts to beat inside the sound

My blood flows outward
Creating the leaves of the tree
Red leaves unfurling like small hands curled ready to hold water
To hold sunlight

I have been transformed 
Torn and wrecked
My reality taken from me
Reality alien and strange
I am the tree with the blood red leaves


Thursday, August 20, 2015

The many pathways.

In the beginning I thought that my path lead me straight ahead
I would force my progress
And in doing so I harmed myself
Maybe others, for I could not see my surroundings 
A narrow focus 
A limited focus, my youth only granting me superficial understanding 

Paths wander and sometimes we are lost

In my newly gifted adult years
I became lost many times
And as many lost people do, I panicked 
I ran in circles, forced pathways
I was bloodied 
I destroyed parts of the forest to find a new path
Sometimes I stopped trying to find a way
Weeping, lost
Calling out for help

I wander and I find you

I found you
On this path
Both facing the same way
Our faces dirtied and scratched
We held each other's hands
Walking on the twisted pathway of life
We argue about the next turn sometimes
But we stick together

The path opens and dissolves

As we reach the end
The path opens and dissolves
We look back, I look back
There never was a path to follow 
It's all forest, thick and full
I walked each step as I needed to
And made a path inside myself



Friday, August 14, 2015

She got it

Blackout poetry inspiration 

She got it
She held it in her hands
It was glowing
Mist 

Once happy
Once sad
Once thoughtful 
Feelings and thoughts
Ever changing
Impermanent 

She shoved her way despite
Shivering wide-eyed
Fear and longing
Moving forward
Through everything 
Resolutely 

Darker
Whispering
Hanging
On Yggdrasil 
Nine days
As Odin
Receiving knowledge
Of life and death
Surrendering 

Tuesday, August 11, 2015

Prayers to the mother

The dark mother
She protects us 
When we cannot find our way
She destroys illusion
Because she doesn't fear dark things
She has embraced it so totally
She is darkness

She is the clarity you find after walking through pain
Through heartbreak and dissolution 
She waits for you 
And grins her toothy grin

Darkness, pain, evil
In the end these are part illusion
Part temporal
She is Mahakala
The Great Mother
She will protect you
Hold you
Walk with you
So you can awaken to your true self

Monday, August 10, 2015

The Cloud Altar

Meet me at the Cloud Altar
Say you'll come

I come here and sit everyday
And talk to the cloud people
Like all humans I talk too much

Listening is harder
Listening requires that I receive
Not so easy being open, being vulnerable 

So I'm here another day
Listening to the clouds
My eyes closed
My center humming

Say you'll come and sit with me
Listen with me
Close your eyes
It'll be alright

Then let's walk through 
And up to the cloud people
Desolving and reforming ourselves 
Again and again
Until we become rain
Falling, falling, gracefully falling
Earthbound once more


Wednesday, August 5, 2015

The Hidden World

The forest holds so much information 
Worlds overlapping
Like curtains gently moving in a soft breeze
As they move against each other
The optical illusion broken
For a split second
I see the hidden world in the trees

Determined to find my opening
Running and dancing towards the entrance
Closing my eyes, trusting my knowing
Eyes can play tricks, they hold to reality too firmly
Falling gently into the hidden world

Eyes now open to vibrancy of this new world
Colors warm and soft
Energy moving off the leaves to the heavens
A communication to be sent

I place my hands inside the stream of light emerging 
Touched by this light it moves into me
Changing my cells, changing everything about me
My eyes explode with color
Closing them the colors move inside
A hidden world revealed
A hidden world found


Tuesday, August 4, 2015

Roots

The day you came to me
I was on my knees
Looking at the roots 
I could see that they were covered
In what I could not say

My hands dirtied
My knees and back sore 
I kept pulling the sickly growth away

The day you came 
I had gotten a little deeper that day
I could see their strength 
Thick roots deeply set into the earth 

My tears they started washing away 
That strange growth
Unnatural 
My tears could cleanse
My efforts were fruitful
My hands had use

The day you came 
I saw the beginnings 
I saw the depth and breadth of the roots
Connected to the earth, to the source
I will tend my tree
I will care for my roots

Monday, August 3, 2015

The keeper of the forest

The forest man
He watches me
I can feel him
Alive, vast
Reaching out to me
He is ancient, this green man
Father of the sprites and pixies
He absorbs my breath
Taking the measure of its depth
He knows why I come here 
Why I stare longingly, lovingly, a bit wistful 

It's a strange story
Made of soul memories 
To be a guardian of the trees
Wearing my armor of leaves dipped in pitch
Holding my spear made from stone and tree
Being connected to the network of nature
Listening to the songs of the trees
I know this was true but past

That forest man can see in my eyes
My memories of this time
So I am allowed to see hints of my past
Little reminders given as gifts
From the forest man 
The guardian of the trees

Sunday, August 2, 2015

The Chalice

A vessel of light
Delicate of shape only
It holds sacred illumination 
For whom you ask?
The one who knows how to drink it
Becomes the one who digests its nourishment 

The light itself will burn away all darkness
The one who drinks must know this
Prepare for this 
Accept this
Accept that they too will be transformed into a sacred vessel
Will become light
Will be nourishment to others

Illumination manifest




Thursday, July 30, 2015

Angels walk in

Angels walk in

I know I saw you
In the corners
A glimpse of you
Sometimes I wish I could see you whole
I know that on that day I will also see myself as whole
Will that day be the day I'm finished here? Will it be the day I leave?

Not trying, looking within, I see the outlines of you
Stronger than a glimpse
Warmer too
The smell of snow
This time I know why I can't see you whole
Why I know that there is a process that must be
I must be patient and trust
There is no rush to see and no rush to be complete

At the end I saw you
When it was time
Old friends we turned out to be
And I remembered I was always whole
That I could always see
And I enjoyed the wait and I enjoyed my blindness for it gave me the gift of patience
It gave me the joy of learning to just be where I was
Seeing you at the edge of my vision
Each day warmer
Clearer







Saturday, January 3, 2015

Queen Corvidae, 0010, josie wakes up.

She woke up. It sucked. It felt like cold water on her consciousness. Waking up this morning felt harsh. Horrible knowing that things were forever different. She remembered the smell of the burning woods. Burning with an unnatural light, her woods gone. Her safe place destroyed. She wanted to go back to the oblivion of sleep. She couldn't though she knew. Now what? What would she do when she felt alone? She started to cry, a deep cry of grief. Not just from what had happened the night before, but from her pain of her life. She never knew her parents, she moved from place to place and she had found comfort in this small forest that day on the water. She communed with the crows and squirrels and seagulls and the small birds. They were her family, she felt connected to them. And there had been a group of crows she always fed when she went there. She was so deeply saddened. She hoped that some of the animals had gotten away. She hoped, she cried and cried. She was a mess, fucked up. she curled into a ball and drifted..... In and out of her grief. Again that strange sense of watching a movie inside of her head unfolded...


Queen Corvidae was numb. Her handmaidens were deeply worried. And when they worried they preferred to make it another's problem. Preferably with sharp objects. And with the result that the other was doing the worrying....