Misty moods…

misty moods beckon
with gentle exposure
into holy breath

Fragrant offerings…

l“In joy or sadness, flowers are our constant friends.”
― Okakura Kakuzo, The Book of Tea

Such magic spoken of
by flowers,
we sit and contemplate
for hours,
the beauty that exists
in all living things,
the love that is
our fragrant offering,

and in that moment
we forget our woes,
and rush to where
joy overflows.

©AllysoAlly2021

Planted in eternity’s soil.

“They tried to bury us, they didn’t know we were seeds.”
― Dinos Christianopoulos

I keep my brave face on
but memories gush forth
from my eyes.
I’m no deaths head at a feast
but between the lines
I’m no hero either!
I feel anger
I get hurt
and when no one listens
I feel misunderstood.

But in me
there’s a spirit
that cannot die,
there’s an awareness
that flies in the face of grief,
It reaches down
it holds a space,
it’s the love
that cannot be replaced.

I’ve seen you through
a butterfly’s eyes,
that tender touch
that no one sees,
I pretend to be alright,
but secretly I’m broken,
secretly I weep
for all the dreams that died.

But Jah knows
and the angels call me worthy.
There are sweet songs
of surrender on my lips
and my tears water the grounds
of what I’m yet to become..
holy seeds sprouting
in eternity.. 

Santa has left the building…

If you’ve been wondering where I’ve been, this is the reason…

There are squashed tomatoes in the carpets,
grapes on the floors,
windows decorated with fingerprints
not a moment to be bored.

a whirlwind in the kitchen,
he turned back the clock,
he reset the timer,
and we danced till we dropped…

but our hearts are happy and our tummies are full,
we’ve eaten half-chewed sausages
and scrambled through the bush.

toys festoon the garden and our muscles secretly hurt
we’re hoarse from the laughter
and we’ve scooped up spilled dirt..

with nursery rhymes on repeat
and kiddie’s songs in our head,
there’s an echo in the silence
as we amble off to bed…

Hamba Kahle Arch…

“In our fragile and crowded world, we can survive only together. We can be truly free, ultimately, only together. We can be human only together.”
~ Archbishop Desmond Tutu

I watched the truth and reconciliation commission on TV in Zimbabwe.
Desmond Tutu urged us to do the same in South Africa.
If we understand the stories, the truth behind the lies, it will change our worldview forever. He cried when he heard of the terrible suffering, as we should.
Thank you Arch for being our teacher, for loving every one of us fiercely, and for the laughter and jokes.
My memory of you is moving to Bishop’s Court and opening your swimming pool to all the kids from the township.
The other memory is of you teaching the Dali lama to dance.
I hope we can follow your example and be as kind and forgiving as you were.
You will not be forgotten, your legacy is our inheritance..
Hamba Kahle Arch, friend to so many.

Happy Solstice!

Today we celebrate our Summer Solstice
with a celebration of wonderful summer light and flowers.
The Northern Climes are celebrating Winter Solstice
with the promise of light returning…
Wherever you are Happy Solstice.
This is for you Sandy…

We call these Christmas flowers…

Sweet Earth

“Prayer is not asking. It is a longing of the soul. It is daily admission of one’s weakness. It is better in prayer to have a heart without words than words without a heart.”
― Mahatma Gandhi

I don’t pray anymore,
I look up at the skies
and see birds flying,
taking messages to heaven for me…

I lie on the ground
and let the earth absorb all the misery
that lives inside me.
I watch butterflies dance
and I marvel at their perfection,
the way they dart between branches…

I don’t pray anymore
I allow the planets to align me
with their mystical powers,
as the moon throws beams of glorious light on me…

I don’t pray anymore
I remember when once I was innocent
and believed in the miraculous,
watching plants grow,
reminding me that
loving kindness is all I need…

I don’t pray anymore,
I taste flowers and bitter herbs
and let them color me
on the inside.
I stand under trees
and feel rooted to the sacred earth.
I let my body
be baptized
in the warmth of the Indian Ocean
as the tide delivers love letters
in the form of broken shells and patterns on the sands…

I don’t pray anymore
I pick wildflowers
and I let pretty grasses anoint my feet.

I don’t pray anymore,
I allow the eyes of children to read me,
while I rewrite my own story…

I speak to the darkness more often
and watch shadows
become lucid dreams…

And when I’m weary
and the world gets too much for me
I breathe God’s name in and out
without vowels YHWH…

I let the sun light my face with freckles
and bring the sparkle back to my hair,
while the wind caresses my weariness…

And if per-chance you see me kneeling
on the sweet earth,
perhaps unknowingly I am praying.
Is that not the true worship of a believer?

This is a re-worked poem I wrote a year ago inspired by Chelan Harkin’s poem… “Susceptible to Light”…and it’s still true. 🙂

The eyes of the heart…

“One has to abandon altogether the search for security
and reach out to the risk of living with both arms.
One has to court doubt and darkness as the cost of knowing.”
-Morris L. West

There is more to all things
than is seen with the eyes,
or written down in words
or portrayed in images.
It’s only the curious,
the fearless seekers
willing to lose their reputation
at all costs
who uncover the truth.

Some things are hidden
in plain sight,
but cannot be seen
by those who close their minds…

It’s real easy to seek truth,
all it takes is a little courage,
a heart willing to forgive
both oneself
and others,
a constitution
humble enough
to admit one is wrong,
and grace to move
joyfully into the uncertainty
of living.

To be willing to be taught,
even by those who we
have looked down on,
or disregarded as experts,
or have judged
insufficient of intellect.

To sometimes believe the unscientific
the dreamers
the mystics
the ones who have an inner knowing…

To embrace humanity
with both arms
like a lover
seeing always with the eyes
of the heart
and be reconfigured
by a beautiful mind.

So unclench those fists
unbolt those doors
and let the unimaginable
the undiscovered in…

©AllysoAlly2021

Star encrusted light…

Sometimes I lose my words
in the strangeness of living
I can’t pick them up
or hold them,
or breathe them back to life..
So I look up at the skies
and gaze at flowers
and I remember
where I came from
and I begin to feel
star encrusted light
return to my inner being.

©AllysoAlly2021