Just When I Thought I was Done…

Its duality is open and alive.

Broken but still alive.

It feels tight around my heart, but runs loose in my soul.

It appears useful at times,

A burden at others.

It has been too long and

I have grown tired of its games,

Its stubbornness,

Its selfishness.

I will send it packing.

I’ll sit on the suitcase top and stuff it all in and

Then I’ll watch it drag itself down the dusty dirt road alone

With bits of colored clothing sticking out through the hinges

Until it is only a cloud of dust fading in the distance.

But when I turn to leave, to finally put it in the past where it belongs, I will see it again,

Coming back at me from the opposite direction.

And just when I thought I was done…

Never Let Go

Seashells and wave echoes

Swirl and laugh in the emptiness behind my eyes.

I have let it go, sent it away,

Opened the lock and set it free.

This open space is vast, quiet and soft.

Wave echoes roll around the edges of my inner space

And blend with the stillness that never stands still.

There is a flow and a wash to this interior space.

A space that holds it all and more.

More me, more us,

All together in the vastness of love and peace, so come,

Kick off your shoes and dance with me.

Listen to the song of the seashells and watch,

Watch the empty space fill with us and more.

Catch the wave echoes when they come around again but

This time, this one last time,

Never let go.

The Arms of Darkness

The woods are still and quiet tonight.

Exhausted from growing all day,

They rest in the softness of the dark.

No demands, no impatience to grow, produce, or succeed remains.

Nothing moves tonight.

The air is heavy with dew,

Leaves hang limp on relaxed branches,

And grasses lean on each other and sleep.

Dawn will come soon and

Growth will begin again.

The fast and noisy world will awaken and

Life will continue its mission to grow but for now,

For this silent night,

All is peaceful and still,

At rest in the arms of darkness.

My Mind

In the beginning, my beginning, my mind

Was my friend, my ally, my confidant, but no more.

My mind has become my enemy,

One that shares this space inside of me but cares not for my well-being.

Its thoughts turn night into day, lust into love, and want into envy.

It whispers its lies in my ear, distracting me from my truth.

I need to fight back and spend more time sitting and focusing on my

Return to that initial, eternal mind of being.

In time, when the process is complete,

My mind will return to its beginning state as my life navigator and soul companion.

Its taunting will stop, its search for drama will cease,

Its remembering of a hundred hurtful events a day will end,

And once again, as it was in the beginning,

It will be my friend.

Milkweed and Fireflies

The heavenly scent from the milkweed blossoms feeds my senses,

And the dew-soaked field sings to me in words unspoken.

 

The sweet summer night wind is alive with twinkling lights and

Fireflies sparkle in the humid mist, rivaling the stars.

 

He and I are are brought here together by light and love and once again

Drink in the sweetness of a night kissed promise.

 

We have no need for words in this place of wind and Chi,

And exist together in silence among the night flowers glowing with starshine.

 

I feel his words,

I see  his emotions…

 

I dissolve in the star-shine with him and once again,

He and I are one with the night sky and the field of flowers.

 

Nothing brings him closer to me;

Nothing brings me closer to his heart.

 

In love we once more share the beauty of darkness

And walk together in this field of light at night,

 

But our time is short as the morning always comes and with it

The sun’s light to melt our magic.

 

So together we face the heartbreak at sunrise and say goodbye again as

The sun evaporates the dew,

 

Smothers my tears,

And leaves me in this place, alone.

 

 

Loving

 

I loved touching him,

I loved being touched.

I loved holding him,

I loved being held.

I loved kissing him,

I loved being kissed.

I loved loving him,

I loved being loved.

But he is gone

And has taken with him the

Touching,

Holding,

Kissing, and

Loving.

The once warm darkness we shared in early morning loving

Is now empty and cold.

Memories are all I have left.

My sorrow is complete.

Watcher of the Woods

From my bedroom window

I watch the woodland change with the seasons.

On the corner of the house, a maple branch hugs the windowsill

Its leaves framing my view of the forest.

How can I explain the secret life of leaves I observe from my window and the

Magical growth that takes place in silence unseen?

I can think of no words to use, so instead I just watch, I watch the breeze

ruffle the leaves and the branches move together in the wind like fans made of feathers.

And then the rain comes, and I watch the drops play the

Leaves like keys on a piano.

I am content with my role as watcher and marvel at the strength and skill the trees employ when they interlock their arms to form an impenetrable force of gentle power in silence.

These graceful tree spirits are woven together by the hand of God to create

The framework of the forest.

They surround my home and speak to my soul.

My heart hears their thoughts and hopes,

And I realize and know that they are

Not so different from me.

I understand and accept that we share this planet and are

Children of the One in all our varied forms.

All connected,

All equal in the eyes of our creator.

And the peace and stillness of the wood

pervades my soul and feeds my spirit and makes me one with those who stand outside looking in.

So I’m Told

I don’t have a love like that.

Thought I did, once.

Maybe I should make one up?

I could, but

Would it have the same hold,

The same power and depth of feeling

If it only existing in my mind?

Although my mind takes its direction from my heart,

Is my heart to be trusted?

Would I make the fantasy so good that every reality thereafter would be a disappointment?

But then, isn’t that inevitable anyway…

A remembered event is most often better than the event itself.

In looking back, my memory adds flavor and substance to one who really was without either.

He was just a shell of my creation, a vessel for me to

Fill with what I wanted him to be.

I made the vessel strong to hold what I needed, or so I thought.

It was my error.  The vessel of my own making wasn’t up to the task.

So as payback for my mistake, I continue to miss something I never had,

To love someone who didn’t exist and to cherish a love that wasn’t returned.

How could it have been?

It was only a fantasy and

Faith in a fantasy is as

Empty and sinking as the leaky vessel that carries it.

We are supposed to learn from our mistakes.

Or so I’m told.

Holders of Stars

I have joined my sisters and retreated.

Back and back to the very beginning,

Not just my beginning but yours, ours.

Back to when the sacredness of women was honored.

A time when it was known and valued that women were

The givers of life and holders of stars.

Society has changed over the years, but in our hearts there remains

An understanding of the continuity of our original place and purpose.

We know that we are not in or of this world

But exist in our eternal beingness.

We are awake and are coming back to claim our rightful place.

The past is remembered in our collective consciousness and it is with renewed Courage and strength that we again dance in the forest,

And the forest dances in us.

Once more the mountains and ocean belong to us,

And we to them.

Our renewed story is a recognition of our eternal story.

It is the story of our connection to the divine,

Not one limited to any certain place or time but a story for all eternity.

The same eternity that resides in a milkweed bloom, a bird’s egg,

A baby’s laugh, and our hearts.

And although our voices remain soft and gentle, we will no longer be silenced.

We are not done with this world and

The writing of our collective story will never be finished

As it has no beginning or end.

Our time is now and together we will step out of time one by one and

Rejoin our story where we were forced out of it years ago.

We are still the givers of life and

The holders of stars.

Sacred women once more,

As one voice and mind.

Together again and always.