BLOG

Gather

“…just as a hen gathers her brood under her wing…” Lk 13:34

Circumcision

Circumcision

Woman…you are
circumcised
not by the flesh
of your foreskin.

No, Woman~~~
nothing ‘cut’ you…
ONLY your heart
broken open
time and again
before life’s beginnings.

You~~~an eternal womb
of life.
A spring alive with
living waters.
You~~~ a part of
a covenant that
lives and breathes
before any chapters
ever put to words.

Still today
your voice, silenced.
There is a cry…
“No More.”

The voices of our
Grandmothers
‘packed’ in earth’s clay…
They feel ‘our’ tears moistening the ground.
They are alive
coming again to embrace
their daughters—
their granddaughters.

Women of Zion
sing your song—
Dance with timbrel and lyre.
Let your beauty
seduce the One who
created you
NOT for selfish pleasures
or a mere instrument
that gives birth.

Woman…
You are the matrix of
the Eternal Now—
A diamond cut again
and again and again.

AND…you SPARKLE.

Rise up!
Rise up!
Rise up!

It is time to gather
your chicks.
Hold them in your wings
as wide as the universe
and beyond.

The token of your covenant set on the
8th day—
Woman…
Your heart already beating
the same language—A Covenant…
A bow in the clouds—

…it is time to rise
Gentle Sophia.
(Divine Feminine)

WAIT

A Season reminding us “WAIT”
I’m still here…
While the frozen petals draped upon our hearts begin unfolding.

A Sabbath Day

A Sabbath Day

Eighteen years
bent over
and here it was
the Sabbath.

Her back broken
like a tree
no longer able
to sway in
the wind.

All those years—
She was so beautiful
and they had to
have her.

They devoured her—
relieving themselves
time and time again.

They broke her,
but she still
‘stood.’

No one would have
her—her
dis-ability left
her unwanted,
rejected, a disgrace.

Why, she,
like so many others
‘removed’ of their name…
“HER” identity.

She spoke—
without words.

She ‘stood‘ bent
over in the Synagogue
on the Sabbath.

A hand placed upon
her—not for want.
A touch ‘setting’ her
free of the infirmities
inflicted upon her.

Every day, ‘SHE’
found moments
to ‘rest’
in the wind
dangling
the branches
of her being.

A Woman Healed of Her Infirmity
(Adapted by this writer from Luke 13:10-17)

WRITE

“Write your own words and let them ‘carry’ you out to sea
beyond the sight of any shore…”

The Temple

The Temple

Have you been to
the Temple lately?

You know
that ‘perfect’ place—
that dwelling place—
where incense burns
prayers heard
chants sung
silence echoes
everyone‘ welcomed?

Have you found that
Temple?
Are you going about
searching?
Are you ‘shopping’ for
the Place?

Stop
If you have ever
trusted anything you
have read
or heard—

The ‘Temple’ is
inside YOU…
You are a HOLY
dwelling place—
You choose what resides
in your be-ing.

Ahhh, but you say~~~
“I’m so far
from perfect.”

Yes…it is in your
imperfection that
you discover the LIVING SOURCE
already residing in you.

You are a Temple
of love—
‘Keep’ your Heart’s door
open for all—

Yes, even for the ones who
close you out…

“BE” only a place of welcome.

Why do we rush Winter?

Why do we rush Winter?

Spring is on the
cusp of morning’s endless
horizons and

Winter still dwells
waiting to be
acknowledged.

A landscape
decked in a brilliant
white blanket
layer upon layer
of frothy ice.

Down ‘below’
withheld from the
human eye

Earth breaking open
in song~~~
a dance
being choreographed.

Endless, uncompromising
‘births’ taking place
giving way to life
that no Springtime
could re-create.

Settle in—
Embrace the frigidity
of this season
it may warm you—
yes, this tapestry
of snow.

Snuggle into each
unique ‘flake’—
no two are alike.
Hold onto
the brilliance
until it melts
in your hand
and you hold
a drop

Allowing it to fall
back into the land
to taste its
purest wine.

Do You See In Color?

Do You See In Color?

How do you See?
Do you allow colors
to blend, mix
and change
creating hues as breathless
as the morning’s sunrise?

Have you separated
the magic in each unique
design
holding the ‘grace’ hidden
within the uniqueness of
its spring?

Please tell me we’ve moved
beyond which tantalizing color
is better than all the others—
the one most favored.

The Holy Book led
‘persons’ in the past
to believe themselves of more value.

Why—to even think anything
other than white was not
a person.

Wait—anything white and
male was the only thing to be valued.

White, male—
educated, free to speak, free to
impregnate…free—
imprisoning the rest of humankind
to be subdued to the ‘colors’ he
deemed acceptable.

Are we ‘seeing’ differently NOW?

Has anything really changed?

I respond with a euphoric, “Yes”
as I catch the setting of the sun

then

I sink to my knees
and my heart screams—NO!

Our system—
of which I AM a part
divides, conquers, competes.

It ‘sees’ ONLY the right colors—
it goes off fighting ‘just’ wars
it keeps brothers and sisters
in the closet—
when they come out they’ll pacify
them…oh, BUT they will not change the RULES.

Women will hear how grand they
are— bridges being built!
Oh, but still stay on your side
of the bridge ‘beautiful lady’—
the altar side is
NOT open for discussion.

What colors are you seeing now?
Search deeply…stop pretending
it is ALL RIGHT!

Let’s paint the sky.
Let’s bring the color back
to its Original Blessing.

Be

“Be”

Empty…the True Full?

Empty…the True Full?

You’ve heard the question,
“How do you see the glass—
half full or half empty?”

Accolades have gone to
the ‘viewer’ who sees
the ‘content’ half full.

What if…
the one who truly is the
‘seer’ is the one
who views the image
empty?

The empty glass
reveals
its deepest essence
no longer having
to pour out endless
ideas, filling every
moment with
mindless activities—
‘our’ ego’s need to
feel so important.

What if not a
single drop trickled
behind?

We could not keep
immersing ourselves in
pools of yesterday’s
pasts from which
we truly do not wish to
be parted.

If empty—
maybe we could NOW
ONLY be happy!
A moment of bliss
and not an
opportunity to even
sneak a quick dribble
of supposed fullness.

When we are finally
empty,
our real journey begins.

All we are meant to be
is now ready to begin…

Perhaps…
this mind of mine
rambling on~~~
hears the song in
my heart because it
finally can echo
off the empty glass
and sing on and on.

I’m Sorry

I’m Sorry

I’m sorry for
ever having doubted you.

I’m sorry for not
sitting with you long enough
because ‘everything’ else
seemed more important.

I’m sorry for saying “Yes”
when I really meant “No”
because I was worried
I would not be accepted.

I’m sorry for being
so frightened that I did
not act for the ‘good’ of another.

I’m sorry for my silence—
for holding back my voice
rationalizing how I did not want
to hurt anyone
and in reality imprisoned myself.

I’m sorry for seeing only
the giftedness of others
and excusing myself as unworthy
when in truth I ran from the
gifts inside me.

I’m sorry for not recognizing
that true humility is in
lighting the world
not in being modest and keeping
my glow beneath a bushel.

I’m sorry for being
so damn sorry.

I’ve apologized again
and again and you have sent wave after wave
of unneeded
forgiveness.

You splashed me
so deeply with
love I’m soaked—
I’m shivering with
goosebumps.

Another immersion…
I’m dripping
tears of joy
causing the sand
to glitter
and you gently
whisper—

“Now~~~follow me.”

Super Bowl Monday I

Super Bowl Monday I

You read correctly
it is Super Bowl Monday I

What is she saying?
Yes, you are reading
and thinking, “Where is
this going?”

Imagine…
It is Super Bowl Monday I.
You turn on your T.V.
(if you have a T.V.) and
every station is focused
on this BIG day…
Especially the half-time
event~~~
It is going to be
SPECTACULAR.

Every radio station is
tuned in…
The internet is not
even attempting to sell
anything but this
Super Bowl.

Teams are in locker rooms.
The chalk boards reflect
all the ‘plays’
that will be attempted to be
run…

The clock is now in countdown
mode…
The stadium is packed—
Not one seat is vacant.
Shouts of joy fill
the air
awaiting the victors of
this Super Bowl Monday I.

The whistle blows—
The teams come pouring
in…

The coin is tossed.

Now, one by one
trucks arrive
gathering food, clothing
and warm blankets for those
who live with ‘nothing.’

Everyone is celebrating…
there is so much
abundance—
No one shall be without.

Those who placed bets on
this Super Bowl Monday I
are cashing in and
bringing in more packages
to load into the trucks.

Out they go
each team out into the
highways and byways,
city streets and market places.

Planes are loaded—
set off to remote
villages
to lands that people do not
even realize others live.

Yes—it is half-time.
People are ‘receiving’
packages—
mouths are filled…
people are brought in from the
cold comforted with good
cheer.

More items are coming
and the fans are
going wild.

All the ‘plays’ are
running as had been practiced.

I look up at the
scoreboard…

At the end of the game
the score

Well…it is simple.

It is a win win.

Super Bowl Monday I

Imagine—can you?