Unfolding #poetry #yoga

To tumble out of the unfolding draw in a breath

Remember who you are

Remember the child who knew how to dance with light

Your doorway to truth

Like Alice peering into the Looking Glass without fear

Grab ahold of wonder

Dive into the ripening

You the vine, but also the seed

Arising from the place of beginnings

Everything already coded

waiting to break open

To reach beyond the ground

draw down light and spread the tender vine

Rejoining the spiral dance

Full Moon Poem #fullmoon #moonpoetry

Image by Bessi from Pixabay

To expound upon beauty

Uniquely yours to release

Dive out of the covers

And breathe fresh

Life yours to define

Mold ripe potential

Defining the turn of lines

Washing the edges with color

Until you forget work

In favor of creation

There is no need to rise

Above or below

But inward

The extraordinary is spiral

You, reaching to discover

The ecstatic dance of joy

In your own rhythm

The steps lighten

Opening the beauty of you

Again

Summer of Rain and Fire #climatechange #ahimsa #kindness #pandemic

I no longer wonder how long it will last, but how long we will endure.

We are living in extremes. One side of the world weeps, while the other side burns in fever. One element, without the other, leads to imbalance. Just like in the human body. Too much yin swallows life force. Too much yang, burns it up. Yet, somehow, for now, we endure. Endure to hold onto extremes…

We reflect what we create.

Denial can be a powerful force of destruction. Eyes resist focusing on what brings discomfort.

Turmoil stirs the Earth, but it also stirs the self.

How often do we forget that what we sow within, we reap outside of us?

I find myself growing tired of excuses. The unchecked ego filled with self-affirming prophecies refusing to go inward to see outside the self with clear eyes.

I find myself growing tired of the selfish mind refusing to remember that we are here to take care of not only the self, but the whole.

I am tired of those who insist on being right at the expense of life. Denying a crisis serves no purpose other than for the ego to feel justified.

We are taught by our spiritual leaders that all life is sacred. That we are just one part of a whole. We are taught interconnectedness and to do no harm, yet the ego’s search for separation has led to a world that burns and weeps extremes. A world where more than 4 million people have died from a virus that is mutating out of control because there are so many hosts that refuse to believe it is real.

Refuse to see that inaction can cause harm.

Our Earth was created with free energy and that energy has never left us. Yet we burn her lungs for profit, and drill into the body that feeds us for industrial gain. Temporary gains leaving trails of disease and death.

We are, undeniably, a selfish lot, but we don’t have to be.

Small gestures can go a long way…

Getting a vaccine can not only save your life, but countless others.

Wearing a mask if you are at risk of harming your own life and others, is not a violation of your personal rights, it is an act of ahimsa. It is an act of grace and kindness.

Tending to the planet is not an act of weakness, it is an act of strength. It is an act of ahimsa. It is an act of grace and kindness.

What I saw this morning #poetry #griefpoetry #grief #loss #death

Photo Cedit: Pixabay

I saw you in the moors today

your hair wild like milkweed

blown free with she who waits

standing in the valley between

The wind, beckoning a caress

two faces turned upward in joy

Water, cleaving the breasts of the goddess

your feet streaming the memory of stars

The renewal of spring lapping the hillside

like a newborn lamb, and you standing

beside her remembering it all

hands clasped in reunion

opening the womb. The body

becoming formless, ripe, orange

walls pulsing the mother-beat

winged emergence breaking

through stone. Guardians

fortifying the chamber vibrating

your song as you become the light

of rainbows, again. Isis

enfolding and opening

lifts the veil to the path of stars

spiraling to welcome the dragon

descending, running the water

gold

#Soar #writephoto

storm-clouds-1
Photo Credit: Sue Vincent

Soar

I dreamt of the voice shuttered

tight against the storm. Words

held behind the clouded window, urgent

We are here!

Blue feathers lined in black resting

in sunlit trees. Impossibly large

No, they cannot be mine

I doubted the possible

stroking the membrane of the quill

so many gathered stories filling

the space beneath, calling

through the echo of time

wondering why the throat

is like a storm cloud waiting to break

the sun. Wondering why

space needs to be confined while the bird

of truth lies in wait

for permission to soar

Once again, I had a feeling that Sue’s photo would echo my dreams. For Sue’s #writephoto writing prompt,#Soar.

Imagining A World Made New #poetry #poems #spiritualpoetry

IMG-1047

I’m trying to imagine a world made new

this riptide of dis(ease) softening into rebirth as seven

billion people grow golden filaments

around the darkness of our womb. At night

I claw dirt back into Her body

to hear the heartbeat wrapped inside

release the tired shoulders, She whispers, you

who have learned to wear blades

as you seek to stretch beyond the chrysalis

breathe whole

arms, ready to release

the heavy weight of fight

trap the body collecting pain

without permission. You wounded

warriors of the light

stamp identity upon the heart

pressing the false hold into a battle cry

lodged inside a forgotten throat

Sing truth to open the portal to the heart

and allow the soul

to shout victory

darkness is a demon

only if left unexplored. Let the cry loose

Let it soar through the shadowland inside

until it ignites the joy that is life. Real

life. Release those golden threads and weave

the memory of unity

whole

The Global Heart #poetry

thailand-4737831_1920
Photo Credit: Pixabay

I cannot help thinking of the heart

and life’s breath held in separation

A viral wrap, searching for community

opening the return of the forgotten

goddess. She peers green eyes of the forest

through locks of fire. An earthen trunk

rooted to the life lines. Horns tuned

to the stars, bridging the divide

How everyone is feeling

the broken as fear’s seize spreads dis-

ease. Time, collapsing and morphing

twisting minutes too surreal to be real

Too real to be false. Lies breaking the voice

gasping for air through constricted lungs

while she breathes her return, softly beckoning

from the shadows. Can you see me now?

she asks. The key is held in your heart

and all

The Memories of Stone #writephoto #memory

memory
Photo Credit: Sue Vincent

Some say the giants are still here

Their memories held inside the stones

They watch the movement of time

and grimace at our indifference

Some weep for lack of care

Borrowing water from the sky

Our eyes see inert bodies

ravaged by weather and not

the chiseling hand. Yet the eye watches

waiting for the few who wish to spiral inward to stir

memories beyond dimension. The giants seek

the seekers and wait. Feeling the press of footsteps

blindly walking. The push of restless bodies

Listening to “Hurry up.” “Let’s move on”…

to the next best thing. Whatever that is.

They watch. Eyes following too slowly to be caught

Lids, never blinking. Legs tucked into the land

who knows their breath. Their hearts,

held in Her hands pulse the music of the land

She, who never forgets her children

moves love through tired veins to spiral the waiting eye

Forever looking for the one who will stop

and remember.

For Sue Vincent’s #writephoto prompt, #memory 

#Still #writephoto

spring
Photo Credit: Sue Vincent

Still

The body, subject to the mind,

reaches for more, grabbing at an illusion

never realized. It seeks to be sustained by want

collecting treasures to adorn it.

False garments of the self dim the light inside.

The body, subject to the heart,

becomes a vessel of love.

Its hands, stilled from grasping,

hold only peace, and its face

reflects the light of the sun

free to move through its skin

igniting the world around it

like a beacon of hope

 

For Sue Vincent’s weekly #writephoto prompt, #still

 

#Daybreak #writephoto

daybreak
Photo Credit: Sue Vincent

Peace arrives upon the horizon of stillness

and the slow letting go fades into the night

We are creatures of the moon and the sun

howling through the winds and the rain

lashing at fears often unfound

we seek the light as though it were

illusive. Stretching our filaments in surrender

the body breaks open to become the sky

The mind, woven in wonder gives way

to the passage. And the voice, that howling

gnashing voice screeching to be heard

becomes the wind. And you

and I, we become the one

crimson wrapping gold

and everything in between

our ocean of light softly surging

and collapsing into the fold

we rock to the music of stars

and find that we were never

forgotten

 

For Sue Vincent’s #writephoto prompt #Daybreak