Haiku: Blessed long Line

Blessed be your Life
Blessed be your Mother and your Father
And your long Line

Haiku: Day 2

When I have nothing

Left inside me I can not

Give you anything

Woman

Woman,

Marvellous mirror,

You are part of Pacha Mama.

You are warmth and light.

You are brown and gold and green.

You are silk and perfume 

And so many fine things I am not used to,

Do not know, yet know I like.

These are strange new times

And you have stilled my gaze.

You help me see how full of magic I am.

You walk in front of me along the shoreline

Of sublime deep grey misty oceanscape

While dragons circle and swim in the air

Beyong my reckoning.

You are part of earth, part of sky

And part of everything in between.

You are light,

Blue,

You are some fair green, luscious, thirst-quenching

Welcome back to sacred ritual space;

These things are in you -

Can you see?

Fire! A rush of change, a wave of love, now,

To wash down and bring cheer as we write

The words to guide the song,

The beginning to a focused dot, all that is

In heart intention and promise:

Art, music, poetry - unfurl! Brave,

Bold, sexy universe of brown gold,

Green. Happy birthday, turquoise, teal,

You Godhead colours joining heaven earth 

and heaven sky in deep grey misty oceanscape,

Past, present, future

Womanchild!

Woman.

Bee and beetle

A bee

Separated from her hive:

Does she experience loss

Or simply have an other experience?

A beetle

Walking seemingly suicidally towards

The incoming tide:

Does he sense death by water - wish for it, even;

Or is he having a kaleidoscopic visionary adventure

In bliss,

Being alive,

Just being alive

For what seems, to us, like

A paltry few days?

Five haikus: early tide, laughter of dawn

Morning mudra
Movement greeting ritual 
With my giant ocean friend.

Freestyle tai chi:

Code connecting minuscule me

To eternal sea.

The stories we tell 

Ourselves about our selves,

Ancient water creature!

Early tide, dawn's laugh:

That we matter not is what

Really matters most.

When I am in the 

Water of the sea, something

Starts to move through me.

I forget I ever forgot

When I am inside

Her early tide.

Haiku: Over

Many things served their
Time and Purpose. Farewell, Old
Friends. Goodbye, Old World.

to: Life

Flattened by you.

Lying head on desk.

The pencil lifts up my hand.

Soft tears escape my surprised,

(cont)rolling eyes.

I get up.

I asked you to please

Stop shouting so loud, 

So harsh,

To please talk to me gently,

Talk to me so I could hear you.

You listened.

You stopped shouting, 

Just kept quiet and

Picked me up.

I softened my sharp, contracted,

Tense and frightened edges,

Relaxed and started to put on fat and muscle.

Your shouting was a primal scream to wake me 

Back into wildness and 

The knowing that each waking moment is sacred.

My being is no longer haunted by sin

But stands tall and strong, 

Honoured to be part of your divinity.

The call is now, and has always been,

To stay close to you, Love, learn how to

Be inside you, make you my home.

Haiku: Father's blessing

I think 
You have fractals in your future
A father told his daughter

Haiku: the life of a cat

The life of a cat:

Fearlessly interested,

Regal, majestic.

Her elfin grace

Humbled, silenced,

Brought to a place of stillness, a place of ancient knowing,

In the presence of the Rock of Ages,

In contact with all possibility, in and out of everywhere and everything

Where n’er a word need more be said,

Beyond all language and concept

I sit, in the poetry, immersed in the field of the One Song

With all in the All.

Here the hummingbird comes to me

And brings to me a feeling that I can not chain with definition,

The experience of soul, temporarily separated

In being human for a moment, 

Recognising its self,

Seeing that recognition of self same soul in the eyes of an other:

In love is our meeting.

On folded knees and with bowed heads is this feeling

That embraces, then surpasses all meaning.

She accepts my sea hair and my unshorn barbarian bear body.

South to North in her toes and the roots of her brown hair,

She is disguised as woman of the fecund earth;

Horns of the ravenous sky in her fertile belly and her elfin elbows,

West to East in the line of her brow and the curve of her smile,

Her tanned skin wrapped in ocean kisses and salty wavecurl submersions.

The arches of her small feet are the stirrups of Gaia’s liquid hot deep gold,

Blood and soil pulsing up through her thin blue veins, climbing

Up into her, filling her, driving her

As she flits here and there, hovering motionless with wings beating,

Beating in rhythm with the invisible frequencies of ethers moving into matter,

Attending her flowers with the exquisite care and intensely focused love

Of one who is doing the work of examining the compass of her heart

And has chosen to trust it, beyond ego, beyond belief,

No matter which way it points.

And it pointed to my cave, and into my cave she floated,

Landed on my nose, and woke me up from long hibernation.

Here we sit now, over tea -

Honest bear and honourable hummingbird -

Waking up the dormant dolmens and ritual spaces

As Gaia herself yawns and stretches off her deep slumber.

And all we do is share with each other the honey we’ve gathered,

These years of our humble lives.

It is the nectar of the universe,

All cosmic process, intricate gifts of geometry,

All stories condensed to a singe epic tale, this book,

This page, this paragraph, this word,

The first and eternal sound held in our wild animal soul.

It is god and goddess holding each other

Fiercely, tenderly, singing,

Learning how to dance again

In this house once filled with dark loneliness.

We can see the stars

And we can see we are made of them.

The endless blessing

May we see ourselves reflected in everything

May we see that every thing is a living thing, part of life.

May we see that we are part of life.

May we feel everything.

May we feel it move into and through us,

Each ecstatic happiness or despairing fear or pain,

Watch these things pass over and move through us,

Then let them go

And find nothing but ourselves in the wake,

New, changed. 

May we look up to see our own creations,

Look up and see what we have made,

Things we have made without even thinking.

May we begin more and more to choose 

What it is we want

Even if we tell ourselves we don't know what it looks like

Or feels like;

Let us take ourselves there anyway.

May we remember to move towards those places,

So that they can hear us too, and move towards us.

May we find each other there.

May we slowly wake up each year,

Each month, each week, each day

To find that we are waking up into

Our own dream,

That it's coming true.

May we begin to perceive the invisible threads

Weaving us into the tapestry of the divine,

The eternal entirety of Creation.

May we come to know that our scurrying, rushing, worrying

And otherwise seemingly important movements 

Can turn into a dance, 

And our 'way' can become bigger, gentler, calmer,

More efficient,

When we get out of that way.

May we move in a dance closer to the The Way of Universe,

The One Song, The Chi, The Prana, 

The giant breath that sings Creation in this and every moment.

May we seek out and come to know The Flow.

May we stay close and remain forever with it.

May we become it. May it find a home in us.

May we be gentle and patient

And take all the time, our sacred time, 

With ourselves in all this.

May we discover ourselves

And see the friends we've had all our lives,

Right here beside us, inside us all along,

Every dramatic, wyrd human step of the way.

Kubuki Forest

Sweet little stream:
For whom do you gurgle, swish and brook?
Such a simple truth,
That nature gives the deepest, lightest laughs
And asks for nothing in return

Anomaly

Emotional triggers.

Repetitive sequences of numbers.

Animals crossing one's path.

Slips of the tongue.

Odd synchronicities.

Source speaks:

To properly receive the messages

One must go to it,

Move towards these disruptions in

The fabric of space-time,

Allow the perturbation,

And ask,

"What is it you are trying to tell me

At this time?"

Grace

Why speak of things I do not know

While black starlings rest and nest

And take their lonely shelter from the bleak storm

In wrought iron beams and rusty air conditioners?

How can so much beauty be mine

How can one person be so gifted

And still walk through a world of 

So many dark and sad things

In full knowing that all is in Love?

A prayer to you, my ancestors

Mothers, Fathers:

Bless me, for I have sinned.

I bore myself into this life

And promptly forgot, 

Knew not my own heart song,

Nor how to hear it.

I pushed, then locked myself away, 

Allowed this world to silence me,

Whispered my truth unknowingly where

No one would hear,

Shared nothing of myself

Save that which was demanded,

Commanded.

I found faith and hope in nothing,

Did not fight hard enough for what

I felt was right.

I grew up too fast. I always tried to escape.

Bless me, I have always known,

I have always heard something.

You have been with me all along, 

Guiding my steps gently to where I am now

And I have no more apologies, 

Only thanks; deep, immense thanks.

My thanks I give to you for everything

I've so far been through, and 

I understand now that nothing has happened to me,

Only for me.

You have shown me signs, sent me allies,

Turned up the volume of nature so I can hear her,

Given me lessons that I might walk through 

The mirrors that show me my self,

Shown me all the pain and all the love that is possible,

And now I have everything I need for now.

You have given me dreams and 

This power of discernment,

My art and my craft,

The fortitude and endurance to hone my skills

Natural born.

I am only born,

A unique gift from my mother and father.

No one else has the blood I have in me.

I see, and I thank thee.

You are me, you are my memory

And there is no real fear,

Only unravellings of mysteries.

I realise I mistreated, punished and polluted

My body

For lack of understanding.

In anxiety I went wandering, lost

And bewildered by the path that I set

Before my self for this life.

I am sorry for all the misery and damage I may have caused,

On this, my blessed path to rememberance.

I am here. You are welcome to be here.

I invite you - come and sit down with me.

Tell me your stories. 

Stay with me here by this fire I am preparing.

Eat with me.

Pray with me.

Walk with me.

Sleep with me next to the fire.

Teach me how to live.

Show me how to listen, feel, see, travel.

Show me what is going on.

Stay with me. Walk with me.

I am so happy to meet you.

When they ask me, "How did you come

To meet your ancestors?" I will say:

"I got angry. And my anger invited them closer

And they began to answer me

In a language I understood

But in which I was not yet fluent.

I realised they were with me all the time

But I was blind, deaf..."

I must have asked the right question,

But it was you who refined my ways of asking.

I thank you.

I thank you for guiding me to the Living Elders;

Thank you for patching through The Call.

They show me I am not born in original sin

But in Original Beauty,

Out of and through Original Beauty.

--------------------

'I am here to uphold the honour of being human.

I am here to reclaim the honour of being given

This place on the sacred hoop of life.'

- Pat McCabe/Woman Stands Shining, of the Dine (Navajo) Nation

Haiku: Life/labyrinth/fox

Life's a large

Labyrinth of riddles

And I'm a crafty little fox.

The longing

The dark needs friends too.

Who will befriend the dark,

Who will guide us through?

It is when the world is most quiet,

It is the space that people retreat from

Only to willingly yet unwittingly 

Enter into:

The Dark,

The darkest of which lies just before the dawn.

Pain, I hear you,

The you of me,

In the Earth

and me in the Earth.

I listen and feel.

I embrace you and welcome you inside

To my fire.

I will give you a safe haven 

As you journey us towards 

The horizon in the well,

The dawn that lies at the end of 

This noisy modern world.

We are everyone else

Especially in the places of longing

And other spaces of pain.

Pain: we are come of it,

Made of it, and so,

Fluent in it, 

Carrying, holding, accepting

And loving

That which others can not -

Can not see,

Can not allow in themselves.

We take on theirs, and they,

Ours. We share.

Perhaps we ask for what we want

By giving it to others.

Tercet: Ocean/Earth/Air

Ocean, what have you seen?

Earth, what have you felt?

Air, what have you heard?

Jimmy, Jonesy, and The Giant

It's easy to play with it

When you got word and math writ

In the pink matter under the hoodie mad hatter.

It ain't Egoic. 

It Heroic! And that ain't no simple thang!

They heroes:

They too oft early death goes,

Yo

That be sacrificial magic

In the throes of 

Ecstatic existential life grows!

Bringer of Light

In the darkest hours she appeared.

I felt held by her.

Her brilliance is Live,

Unrehearsed, untelevised,

A slam, a stand up poetry jam.

She poked me from behind

And I turned to her with a mic.

Her mind is a rap.

She dives deep to find

That which is not yet tapped,

and then shares

The real, the true, the beautiful

The kind.

This conversation is rare.

Her self, her journey:

Twisted, broken, bent, warped,

Snapped.

An inner frame of flames, as she speaks

She strips to bare

Naked.

I sense her in real time.

She speaks in answers to questions

She never knew she could ask.

I listen. She solves riddles

right then, right there.

------------

For Qurasha