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
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
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