Alabaster Jar

An alabaster jar
sits empty upon
an unknown shelf—somewhere.

Three tiny flowers are
dipped in its
hollowed walls
while the sweet
scent of perfume
lingers upon the
jar’s smooth lips.

Yes, lips that once
poured out their
fragrance upon a
body being made
ready for its burial.

A Beloved follower—
‘She’ knew~~~BELIEVED
the words spoken.
Her heart broke open
as the ‘expensive’ perfumes
mused with her tears and
fell ever so gently
upon His feet.

Her hair
desperately attempted to
dry the ‘balm’
comforting His being.

A moment of
Transformation
—sweet fragrance
—lifeless wonder
—eyes opened.

The Alabaster Jar…
I believe I smell its
lingering aroma—still.

Infinite Wonder

My heart steeped in dew
barely rises in between
each breath.

So heavy, my heart, in sorrow.
Still, it knows the
joy of bliss.

A red bird sings.
Its voice soars
echoing through
the mighty branches
swaying in the breeze.

My heart lifts to reach
for the song
it knows it can sing for
itself. YET, not now.

For now the heart listens
allowing the music of
the bird’s song to fill
a breaking heart.

Tears…
they do not stop—
for so many reasons,
they fall.

Love—
yes, love is why it hurts
so very badly.

We live in a world that
has everything—(in some places)
yet, we ‘cannot’ hear
the sounds of our elderly.
We do not hear the cry of the poor.
We cast out those different
and exclude them from
what we ‘think’ belongs
only to us.

This—this Creation
is a gift to ALL…
NOT only humans.

We think we are the
privileged ones.

My heart aches
for more than it can
possibly hold.

I don’t know how to carry
it.  I lay it down
while two playful robins
flutter so near my feet.

They seem to want to
carry this woe of mine
casting it into the air
returning it to the vastness
of Life~~~ Infinite Wonder.

My thoughts so finite
stretch to embrace a
new dawn…

My heart…I hear
it beating as the tears
roll down.

Sophia

Upon the shore
balancing on the rocks
like a trapeze artist,
‘she’ was all around me.

Each wave
rolling over and over
spraying me—filling me with glee.

I was soaked in wonder.
We played
hide and seek.

When I caught her,
I held her knowing
I had to let go
for she could not be contained.

When ‘she’ caught me,
she embraced my soul.
She pointed me in the direction
of the sun’s light.
I was blind,
but for a moment.

I saw.
I could see what
for so long had always
been, but I could not
grasp it…

Now I held it
letting it go again and again.

She breathed her
wind through
my hair.
My being shivered
and yet I was
so warm inside.

My heart laughed
and the seagulls
chimed in—
a symphony written without notes.

Others passed by
stopping for a moment to
look…they, too, saw her.

Then Sophia rolled
in her clouds
clapping her hands
in a thunderous
roar.

I did not want to
leave, but I knew
as I waved goodbye that
she was far from gone.

Participant

You…
have set my ‘feet’
knotting them—
telling me a
Woman
where I
can and
cannot go.

You have
held my
voice~~~
‘sealing’ it,
allowing me to set
the table, prepare the
food, but you hold me
back from sharing
the words.

You decide what is
best for my body even
after it has been broken…
abused and yes, beaten.
Yet—
‘One’ who is BEYOND you
speaks through the
wind…
whose breath has
blown its way into
my soul, into every
fiber, cell, pulsing
in the transformation
of my being.

I am stretched
though you try to hold me.
I reach connecting to all creation
which fills me with life.
I sing for my voice can no longer
be restrained.  My refrain—endless.

My body
like a tree
is planted in ‘sweet’
surrender…
Still, the soil
holds me—
the birds nest in my arms reaching,
soaring in every
which way.

The sun warms me
while the rain bathes
my essence.

The snow freezes my
shell, my bark—yet,
my core, unseen
EXPANDS.

When leaves grow,
they join my
song—

You can try to ‘hold’
me—
yet, you’ll
never stop
the
‘moving’

I am a
participant in
the JOURNEY.

Be Still

Come
sit gently upon
the budding flowers.

Suckle sweetly
the tender juices…in the heart
of the garden’s
abundance.

Be Still~~~
taste and
see
all you ever needed
or wanted
is all
around you.

It is not simply
around you
it is
within you.

Sit quietly
and be still.

Our Mother

Our Mother
You are throughout the Universe
strewn in between the galaxies
and infinite solar systems.
You are in every star beaming within
the Milky Way.
Holy Woman is your name.

Your Creation is NOW
and shall be for as long
as you desire.
There is no separation from the
Cosmic Wonders you ordained.

Each day you gift to us…
You, Holy Mother, nurture us with
sustenance from your breasts—
spill milk of a lasting kind
until we are no longer babes.
Feed us with the riches of
spiritual maturity
so that when we fly from your
womb that has carried us,
your love holds us if our wings
should tire
and we fall to the ground.

Lift us again and again
so that the resurrection of
our spirits
sets ablaze our hearts
burning with love’s desire
for you and you alone.

For in you Holy Mother
transformation dwells
awakening our minds
set free from illusions.

Forever and ever
may you birth into life
goodness and kindness
mercy and steadfastness.

May love be the endless
fruit filling us
forever and ever.

Awomen

What Gift do you Bring?

A piece of Paper—
empty, life-less…
without color.

A box of Pencils—
endless colors…
sitting, as if in waiting.
For so long their ‘points’
longed for union~~~connection.

A Story—
in a mind
always creating…
still~~~holding back
WONDERING, PONDERING, HESITATING.
What gift can I bring?

Then ‘She’ knelt upon
the frozen earth
under the silent moon
lighting the empty paper.

She picked up the colored pencils
or maybe they picked her?
None the less,
She ‘mused’ them ‘into’ the
naked page…

Splashing with delight
She discovered ‘her-story.’
It was her gift to bring
and NOW how could she
not share it with the world?

A Love Story
filled with the tapestry of colors
and the page, or pages of paper
are anything but empty.

The Trees Are Crying

They know what is coming.
A storm is approaching—
They, yes, each tree
big & small, tall & short, barren & filled
with autumn’s last leaves~~~
Each begins to sway.

The wind holds nothing back…
branches click and clack
and then a ‘break’
and then a silent rumble
as the tree crashes to earth’s floor…

If you listen—
really listen—
you’ll hear the trees cry.

They creek aloud understanding
a Fall.
Anything BUT a fall from Grace…
rather a fall into GRACE.
It is a time to weep…what was is passing.
What is to come remains unseen
and for this moment~~~it hardly matters.
NOW the trees cry.

Bend with them and listen—
it just might break you enough
to realize they, yes the trees,
embrace the mystery more than You or I.

Little One

What did you find?
Oh, yes…it is a treasure…
It is such an amazing ‘gift’
that you could never put it in
a box with a pretty ribbon
for it cannot be contained.

My only wish…
no one take away what
you’ve discovered…
I pray you are not told
‘ARISE’…look how dirty your knees are
‘look’ how wet your new pants are.
Now, hurry…get up—

I pray no one says, come now
we must be going…better things to do
with our time than simply gaze into water
and skip stones on her crest…
Oh, don’t ever let go of this treasure.

I pray the silence here fills you again
and again—so you’ll never tire of coming back.
The noises you’ll hear in your ‘space,’ what
others will call home…never accept them as the norm.
Run back to the treasure you first discovered, Little One…

Incarnation…

Began with the birthing of
dawn
out of the brilliance of darkness.

Stardust drizzled from a bursting star
gifting the landscape.

A single breath
through a nostril of Divine
Wonder brought into life’s
Cosmic Mystery
Humankind…

‘we’ were added to the dance—
to the ebb & flow—
to relational
love-making of Holy Awe.

ALIVE~~~
this was
the message
spoken.

Fulfillment was
offered…
it is in our
Hands.

Where Will Our Children Play

We wake
and both choose our favorite blend.
Aroma rising…
‘we’ fill our cups to the brim.

You pick up the paper—
I put down the noise.
You read the headlines—
I gaze at the stars.

In between sentences you hear about the violence
and wars
while I’m perched hearing the
songs of the waking birds.

You shudder, aghast…health care
reform, deficits, tax increases,
millions of dollars to pilot air force one.
I sit beside the trees bending
to greet the sun.
A breeze runs through my hair
while a chipmunk scurries
through the blanketed grass.  A
dragonfly lands resting itself upon
my knee…

You are not wrong…
I am not right.
‘We’ both ‘see’ yet, through
different lenses.

‘We’ both ask,
‘Where, where will our children
play???’
If ‘we’ don’t listen NOW and
rise for them…what will any
of this mean?

Can we ‘stop’ the division
and seek a way—
without answers, yet a common
goal of justice for all?

What really is equality?
Stop hiding in the shadows
negating what is ‘real.’

You see, you see…
get off the pulpit—
try ‘seeing’ from the pew.

Where, where will our children
play?
Are we able to get them off i pads—
so they can hear…stories,
told orally, from of old?
Are we able to avoid fast foods in
a rush to get to the next
event…
and share with them
the sacred art of
spitting watermelon seeds
(are you laughing…
remembering)?
Are we able to push them away
from the T.V. and let
them run through the
sprinkler?
Are we able to let them
fully clothed get wet?

You and I may ‘see’
differently,
but I know
We both want our
children to PLAY—

Desire

Tell me of your desires
and I will tell you of mine.

When I sit gazing upon a tree,
I desire every part of my being
to be nestled deep into the soil.
I want to ‘breathe’ packed in mud
and shoot through the veins of
the trunk until I’m dangling
from a branch.
I want a caterpillar to nibble
upon my leaves
and I want the birds to
sit within me singing, singing, singing.
That is my desire
and I am One with the tree.

When I splash into the sea,
I desire to be a wave folding
over & over gathering sand
and displacing it so it can discover
new shores.
I want to be calm one moment and
then move into a tempest
swirling every which way—
no direction necessary.
That is my desire
and I am One with the Sea.

When I stare at the
sky, I desire to be a
cloud…puffy, white
and full of vapors.
I want to hear the
sound of little children
magically trying to
create something from
my formation. I
desire the painted blue
screen I float within
to intertwine in me
until at last I am
One with the Sky.

When I climb a mountain,
I desire to reach its
summit just as when
I enter a canyon
I desire to get down
into its endless
abyss.
All this—I desire to
be One with the
mountain and the
canyon.

Tell me of your desires
and I will tell you of mine.

Wings unfolded, talons
outstretched,
I desire to be a hawk
lunging with the ease of
speed
eyeing the trout skimming
the water’s surface—
Darting…any sort of brake
disengaged
in my talons.
I seize the mighty fish
and off to my nest I fly…
my young already delighting
in the tasty water spectacle.
My desire in that one single
bite,  a taste of holy communion,
and now my feathers dry
in the cool summer’s breeze.

My hooves touch the ground,
but in a moment of fearful
desperation I leap…my legs
life springs…a gentle deer I
desire to be.

In early mornings…the sweet
nibble of fresh grass then down
to the river the deer saunters to lap up the jewels
of the stream—
An animal of such grace.
My steps, a rhythmic dance…
I am One with the
deer and my
desires embraced.

Tell me of your desires
and I will tell you of mine.
I desire to be a bell
in a tower cast in
far away lands.
Yet, when I ring—
when my whole being
swings clanging the
chimes to the bronzed
frame…
all who listened
no matter how
far
would ‘hear’
their desires
fulfilled
and in that moment
all desires would
be ONE
and then suddenly
a Divine Reality
would whisper

Yes…your desire
is good.

A Sailing Ship

There I was
nestled near the edge
of the shore
when suddenly it made
its way across the
glass-countered sea top…

Moving with ease,
it did not ‘see’ me and so
I carefully hid myself
behind a patch of elevated
cat tails

No sails moved this
unique vessel…
this sailing ship— not
even a motor

A large tip~~~its bow
and its stern
a giant paddle caressing
the seas

The body of this ship
strong—yet, its movement like
a soft feather tucked
inside a bird’s nest…

Closer and closer it came
I could not resist to catch
a ‘full’ glance and at that
the tail parted the sea
creating a splash which soaked me
with delight…

the sailor’s ship now submerged
and I~~~soaked with laughter

Hoodie

Can you ‘see?’
are you able to open your
heart to embrace the
‘pupils‘ you cannot view
beneath the hoodie…?

Some’one’ is underneath
the cover
Why is she/he shielded?
Have you asked?
Perhaps you’ve drawn a conclusion.

Why the choice not to
be revealed?
Has the person beneath the hoodie been abandoned,
left out, cast aside?

Has anyone touched the face
caressed the many tears
that flow under its protective
cover?

Who is truly under the ‘hoodie?’
Is it perhaps you or me?
Maybe ‘we’ don’t wear our
hoodie outwardly, but do we
inwardly?

Why the hoodie?
I don’t have the answers,
but I do know what it feels
like to have my face
touched

the warmth of a loving presence

I’ve never been the same…

Let’s try to embrace at least
one face, one invisible face
captured under the hoodie

Red Bird

In a small wooded backyard
a red bird sits upon a tree’s branch
singing a song,
the same one she sings each day
yet, she sings as if she
has just discovered her voice…

More than a thousand miles away,
in a secret garden, a red bird
sits on a branch
amongst the flowers…
She sings a song, the same
one she sings each day she visits,
and the blossoms unfold
upon hearing her sweet refrain

No matter the distance, the miles
that separate the beliefs
we hold or the ways we believe,
are the only truths…

No matter the color, black or yellow,
red or white

No matter the gender, the religion or
political stance

No matter poor or oppressed,
rich or lacking for nothing

The red bird sings,
and sings if for nothing else,
because it can

…there are those who stop
to ‘listen’
they hear the song each day and
recognize the music as if just written
for the first time and sung with a
love~~~passionate, pure and whole

The song plays on in that mysterious
dwelling ‘within’ and no matter
how misunderstood

The red bird’s song invites each of us
to find our branch
and ‘sing’ for the ‘one’ who sits
waiting, listening for our song!

A Heart of ‘Seeing’

Walking upon a soft bed
of cushioned earth
‘the stump’ nearly ‘tripped’ me

Yet, I suppose all
heart moments
cause us to stumble…

I did ‘not’ always ‘see’ them
yet now it seems they
‘find’ me…these heart moments

Realizing how
deeply I need the beat
of its fusion within this
simple body—temple
of a BELOVED”S dwelling

Alas, from my knees I rise
reminding me~~~Get up…quickly
no more confessions

Only the soft ‘feather’ of love
let go, released by a song bird
singing a love song to the One
who sees the heart open, yearning, moving
within the ebb and flow
No longer tussling in the eddy
which captures…holding back spirit

Heart of ‘seeing’
you have known pain, loss
disappointment, sadness—
you have known often without knowing
the depth of love in all the unforeseen

When the Heart is ‘broken,’
love splashes outward
making ‘lighter’ the
inner dwelling
allowing, inviting more
space for love to grow

A Door Closed This Day…And

A door closed this day and
he could barely look me in the face
his eyes could not meet my gaze

The women, they were the first
to open the door
Birth~bearers, streaks of silver lining
in their hair…
They listened…their tears
taught me~~~the spirit flowing

I shared the story
the one from ages past
The book was meant to be in every home
yet never to be opened or read
…because only certain persons
could teach it and share its message

The voices within the book called to
me…create us, so that
others might ‘see‘
‘we are all ONE and the same’…
Don’t be afraid of the stories

I was called to the young people
preparing to receive the ‘spirit’
Their eyes…PAIN~~~
they knew so little of the story
and understood the message
but were frightened to look at
themselves…
their story

The man came to me
only after I approached him
offering to share the message

He said…
‘You need a THEME
perhaps change your topic
because the Bible is large’

I looked at his lost expression
change…the story~~~
I can only trust the “spirit’s” yearning

“Perhaps another time”—he said

I told him I understood
I could not change THE WORD
to fit into ‘a box’ of his making
and he turned, closing the door

I stepped outside…
the soft wind kissed my cheeks
the sun blinded my eyes
but there was a shadow
“picking” flowers

The spirit ‘lifted’ my saddened soul
saying,

‘Take the petals to those’ who will receive’

Doors close only to open
your being to a deeper fullness and joy

A Bridge

I stood upon a bridge
staring ‘outward’

Before my eyes I witnessed
the trees swaying above my head
I saw the water swiftly moving
beneath my feet

As I gazed to my left
and then to my right
I saw the beginnings of the bridge’s path

What was the beginning?
Or the ending?
Or where the path began?

I sat now upon the bridge
drawing ‘inward’

Suddenly, I realized the “ONE”
created both distinct ends
and calls us
to the middle
the center

To the depths of where both points
meet and there is no longer division—
instead, perfect union

Distractions

Distractions…

Then the silent pounding of heart strings
Cares, worries, anxieties
Then a hushed breath in, out, in
A symphony of noises playing in the mind
THE SILENCE~~~sweet, tricky & luring

COME BACK…I know you’re there
The echo of events
Then back to quiet refrain

Is this the ebb & flow of my deepest prayer?

Can this be the calm, the chaos
BONDING
my inner stirrings to ‘see’
in all things your
‘simple,’ ‘uncomplicated,’ intoxicating wonder?

First, the push, and then
The pull…back in, back in~~~it’s safe here

BUT the ‘tent’ no longer holds
The sapling within
Bursting~~~stretching with every ounce of unforeseen ‘newness’
Life happens

It happens while we are in it~~~

See…see with eyes “closed”
The ‘Divine’ breathing in you
Your blossoms ready to
Sprout
and the beauty you
Already bring
Only now truly
Beginning~~~
Transforming

No One Sees

No One Sees
and it scarcely matters

During the night
she muses
from deep within her
the loom
‘inside’ yields
the thread
anticipating her masterpiece

Hung between
a frame of branches
she spews ever so
freely
a wave of silk
dangling row by row
transfixed by playful
extensions of herself

She moves
without thinking the
pattern, trusting the
design

She herself does not even
step back to gaze of its
magnificence

Her tangled web
visible
most especially when
caught in its
weightless clutch

Daylight reveals her
hidden revelation
the sun highlights
the inner shadows
while dewdrops
sit hung upon each
fragile yet resilient
shelf

No One Sees
yet it scarcely matters
‘creation’
a gallery alive…free
and so few
dare visit its
splendor

Vantage Point

From ‘one’ perspective
a single view
upon which all thoughts,
ideas, values, beliefs
are born

Then one day
a stirring
as a single gaze into the stars
reveals a perspective unexplored

If only to touch one single
star
and so I climbed
and climbed
and climbed…
the darkness penetrated by
the Milky Way, Orion, and the Big Dipper

I stumbled a few times
my head down so as
to watch each tempered
step

I stopped to catch my breath
only to realize the stars
began giving way to dawn

An orange sky
segued with red and yellow
the sun still a distance away
from the Earth rotating to welcome her brilliance

As I looked ‘down’ into the valley
Splashed as if immersed
in a Holy Baptism
My perspective,
my one single point
shattered

Amazed at the endless
nothingness
linking together
everything

I discovered in the lost
nowhere that yes
I was now
Here

Opened by wonder
mystery and awe…
Everything I’ve come to
know, believe, trust in
vanished as if
forgotten~~~
yet discovered

The Sun rose its head
I was blinded
and yet for the
first time
I saw a point
and then beyond

A Heart in the Woods

See it?
It is always there
even when darkness
tries to hide its image

See it?
In dawn’s early rising
light seeps into its open
crevices

See it?
A heart
In its center a
towering tree rises from
an earth which holds tenderly
the roots spread like a bed of
laughing dandelions

See it?
Yes, that tree…
It divides one half from another

Oh, but wait
See it?
It does everything BUT divide

See
the bridge?
It is a passage
a journey
looking back at
all the places,
discoveries,
adventures

rolling over
into
a ‘new’ place

where the only thing that
matters is
‘everything’

Everything and yet
nothing

Mind stretched
a self
unraveling from all
it has been told it is
and recognizing
as it slides over this
bridge
who it really ‘is’
for the first time.

The Preacher

Her pulpit
a rock
She perched on a delicate green
blanket of seaweed.

The ocean’s bounty trickles
upon her feet~~~

Her sermon, only
SILENCE
and she prepares for communion.
She waits, and waits, and waits.

Her eyes wide open~~~
her pupils scan for any motion…

Suddenly,
after all the waiting,
waiting,
waiting,
right there ‘bread.’

Her beak pummels through the water
‘broken’
a fish caught in her paired scissors
and blood flows onto her feathers.

Yes, death
A small fish sustains life.
The preacher digests only what is necessary
to ‘fill’ her belly.

As the sun rises,
she seems to bow her head in thanks~~~
In silence she no longer waits, and waits, and waits~~~

She is ‘full’