she came to the end of herself the very, very end, where words failed her and she unknowingly fell, into a deep hollowness, a colorless place an emptiness of being she could not escape… and she wallowed in the greyness of melancholy wear, overwhelmed by disharmony everywhere. She had allowed the chaos to discolor her life, dulled into believing only with her eyes…
now color is returning and presence is found, she’s kneeling again, on imperishable grounds…
“Do not be dismayed by the brokenness of the world. All things break. And all things can be mended. Not with time, as they say, but with intention. So go. Love intentionally, extravagantly, unconditionally. The broken world waits in darkness for the light that is you.” ― L.R. Knost
I buried my dreams deep in the sands before the Time Lords came… they took me by the hand and led me away far from the chaos of the world’s decay…
and enlightment knocked on the ocean floor, moving the tides right up to my door… I coalesced with their sacred ways, to the music of a grateful day…
As truth painted the azure skies, as beloved conduits of the divine…
Far from crowds of mad intent, I knelt on the sands in holy ascent…
We are the meek who inherit the earth holders of light we quietly observe…
“I live on Earth at present, and I don’t know what I am. I know that I am not a category. I am not a thing — a noun. I seem to be a verb, an evolutionary process – an integral function of the universe.” ― R. Buckminster Fuller
I’m from the crash site of a fallen star, from the dust of earthen scars…
I’m from a city near the mountains of the moon, blood stained lands, dry monsoons, from mosquito habitats and drenching rains from wild vistas and dusty plains…
I’m from the memory of invisibility, wide-eyed wonder, creativity… I’m from shyness, born out of shame, freckled faced hair of flame…
I’m from the dance of faded dreams, from the bravery of life’s extremes, I’m from the sorrow that lies in the bones from lost tribes searching for home….
I’m from the resonance of singing chimes, called beloved by the lords of time…
I’m the flower-child of fragrant beds, barefoot meadows and mystical threads….
I’m from visions beyond the known, encircled in light, never alone… I’m from the love of Jah’s breath, not believing the sting of death…
I’m from the kindness of human touch, from broken hearts where love is enough…
I’m from the loneliness of feeling out of place, from constellations built on grace…
I’m from rivers of copious tears, kept in jars for a zillion years, from gatherings of bereaved souls, contemplatives trying to be whole…
I’m from the song of birds at dawn, at first light I am reborn… I’m from the homage of tall trees and the worship of honey bees…
I’m from the celebration of all that is, the ambience of the Creator’s kiss…
I’m from nowhere and everywhere, perhaps I came here unprepared?
I was going to participate in the poetry month for April but I realize it takes up so much of my time, so I’m going to do it intermittently… 🙂
This is my recipe for April the first! (one day late)
Mix in sweet gratitude and let it seep…
And pour in deep…
Let presence enfold you
immersing the pain,
on a low heat of forgiveness
whisk in the remains…
of grace and mercy,
with heapfuls of love,
blended with compassion,
and using kit gloves,
sharpness will boil away, as you ladel out blessings
count them very slowly,
it may be messy…
it may take courage to let it dissolve,
bake on high and
you will evolve…
bitterness is removed
with loads of patience
serve with love
We’ve been having power outages, sometimes three times a day….we call it load-shedding. There are many reasons for this happening in our part of the world and we have learned to live with it and do other things, but sometimes it is hard.
hopefully not despair…
when the power fades
we breathe out
and learn to live without a care…
“He who knows others is wise; he who knows himself is enlightened.”
― Lao Tzu
pervaded her life with fear.
She broke free from the obstacles
that held her life back.
While gazing out at the cosmos
through the cracks.
floating on raging seas.
against the current,
blinded by her own decrees.
The swell began to caress her
with eloquent words
Breathing in sacred acceptance,
resentment was being defused.
She found her way through the furnace,
of not knowing herself.
she came back
to life itself.
While inhabiting stillness,
her heart sang
She joined the celestial chorus,
one with heavenly throngs.
The stars became her followers
and the moon was her guide.
In a euphoric atmosphere,
her heart burst
“In a futile attempt to erase our past, we deprive the community of our healing gift. If we conceal our wounds out of fear and shame, our inner darkness can neither be illuminated nor become a light for others.”― Brennan Manning
Dark trails of desolation
ruptured her heart,
her world was blown apart.
Crimson stains defiled
her sanguine dreams.
A soul downcast,
overcome by grief.
Tears poured in desolation;
lacerating all reason,
in the agony of life
she lost a sense of meaning.
If she could fly past the sun,
be burnt up in its rays,
succumb to her wounds
and eliminated by the blaze.
Bleeding out only came
with evanescent relief,
a momentary respite
of a soul aggrieved.
When she saw a flicker of light,
on sorrow’s nebulous shore,
she breathed a wish, an expectation,
that hope could be restored.
But the spark only lasted
one faint, single breath.
Then blackness descended
into faith’s ruinous death.
The spoils of victory
had never belonged to her.
Inhaling untold struggle,
pleasure became a blur.
As she searched the gloomy darkness
for a translucent beam,
slow annihilation reduced her,
to a noiseless scream.
She looked for the sun,
but it was eclipsed by affliction,
hidden by constant turmoil,
a loved one’s addiction.
Like a soldier defeated
in an endless war,
blood seeping from her marrow
submerged in the gore.
“Even death would be easier”
the words rang out in her head,
an escape from the madness
and the continuous dread.
“Are there happy endings?”
still wanting to believe
that light could vanquish darkness
and empower a reprieve.
When she woke in the morning
she turned her face to the sun
a feeble glimmer of hope
that could never be undone….
“Believe more deeply. Hold your face up to the light, even though for the moment you do not see.”
― Bill Wilson
“I celebrated your joy, I promise, I did.
While into darkness, my afflictions slid.
Through pain and tears I heard applause.
I gleaned the cheers, I read the scores.
I glimpsed delight with visceral sight.
In my mind’s eye it still alights.
I’m sorry, so sorry for my shame.
I really am, let me try again?
If only I’d supped that warm embrace,
just for a moment, a sublime place!
In misery I’ve been submerged.
Stolen joy where despair converged.
Shame is more deadly than death.
Its venom steals my very breath.
I’m going beyond the outer edges
to acquire my own forgiving lenses.
When I emerge I pray I’ll be free.
Somewhere, somehow, it’s my decree!”