The Cold Light

The early morning silence speaks to my soul.

It calms my heart and lets my mind wander back to a warmer time,

 

A time of love and light. But as the dawn draws near,

The night’s soft callings fade and take my sleepy hope with them.

 

As the horizon brightens, my heart, that was held close in sleep,

Stretches and yawns back to wakefulness.

 

A wakefulness to the reality of losing him again,

And the pain and longing is felt anew.

 

If only night’s magic and sleep’s

Fantasies could survive the cold light of dawn.

Tea Mugs and Wine Glasses

Come, sit and sip with me,

The tea will warm our hands, the wine our hearts.

Hold my hands across the table,

Watch and feel my eyes melt into yours.

Your heart hears mine but you pull

Your sweater tight and muffle its cries.

Let it out, it only wants to share

Don’t be afraid,

It won’t leave you for me and mine

Won’t leave me for you, but

They will meet when

Our chests touch and

Their harmonic beauty will speak to us of peace and love and

Lull us to sleep

Among the tea mugs

And wine glasses.

Coming Cold

Winter is not a time of loss,

Not just a time of cold.

It is a pause,

A break in the cycle of growth and light.

A time to rest, step back, step in,

And reflect.

The dark time brings us back to hearth and home,

Back to our roots and each other.

We share this quiet time within ourselves,

Deeply formed thoughts reflected in firelight.

Winter is a time of shared isolation.

We are all closed in, alone with each other.

The trees are quiet, too.   All

Sounds are muffled by the snow.

Burrows and dens surrounded by the white warmth

Shelter life until spring.

Crystal cold water runs beneath a

Covering of ice,

Sneaking away to the open sea,

Escaping the slowing by cold’s icy grip.

The cold penetrates all, it slides

Silently over the sills

And in through the cracks and settles

In pools around my feet.

Cold turns the air into crystals of ice,

That sparkle as diamonds in the sun.

But the sun holds little warmth in winter.

Her light for illumination only.

She has given the world over to the other side

A universe and life in balance, as it should be.

The light and warm time will come again, it always does

It is trustworthy.

So I am content to sit by the fire and marvel

At the wonder and beauty of winter.

I appreciate my place in the flow of the seasons

And my oneness with all creatures.

Join me, step back and observe, listen and be still

Hear the magic and grace that surrounds you.

Let the crystal blue sparkling sky fill your eyes and heart with the joy of the season

And be at peace in this time of waiting.

Creator as Creation

The undisputable evidence of the creator

Surrounds me.

She is in the heart of every rain drop,

She is the voice of the thunder.

Her soft strong hand holds the sun in the sky,

And the birds on the wing.

All life is a manifestation of

Her will and beauty.

To deny her is to deny

My very existence and the existence of all that I love.

Her voice echoes in the wind and her love

Caresses my face with moonshine and starlight.

Only she knows the time of the seasons,

As she knows the passions of my heart.

Life without the acceptance of her presence

Is possible – but empty.

My practice of Buddhism, without her foundation, without her to seek in the

Stillness of mind,

Would become empty and shallow, self serving,

An interesting preoccupation only.

I see her in every flower, every mountain top,

Every smile.

She exists in all of creation, every part and particle,

Every quark and lepton, every neutrino and vibrating string.

They all bear her thoughts and are ruled, created and

Imbibed with her universal consciousness.

A consciousness that she freely and openly shares with each and every one of us,

All we have to do is seek and she will answer.

She is an endless thought, an endless love, all encompassing, and all knowing.

She holds all the possibilities of eternity in her thoughts and ideals.

The creator has become the creation. She resides in me and you.

Reach for her in the darkness and feel her light and hope,

Open your eyes and be awake to her presence, your heart will echo her joy forever

And you will never be alone again.

She will never disappoint you,

She knew you before you were born.

The Watcher of the Wood

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 and

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.

Who I Am

I am a woman,

A real woman.

Finally one with who I am

Not who anyone else wants me to be.

Mother, daughter, grandmother, friend, sister, lover

All aspects of the same me.

I know what I can take and

When to say “Enough!”

When to be still, when to move

When to love, when to protect.

They are my choices to make, mine alone and

My chances to take as well.

I have enough love for the whole world and

Dreams to match.

I am wise in so many new ways,

Ways I never knew existed.

The transition from girl to young woman

To the me of now has been a hard journey.

I no longer need, now I know and feel and treasure what and who is.

This recent shift in perspective has been life changing.

I know what I don’t want and what I

Will not put up with ever again.

I am a mother to everyone and

A servant to none but God.

I am a sister to my friends and will stand by

And with them for all time.

It takes a special man to handle the love of a real woman,

A woman of strength and passion.

I am thankful to have finally met such a man, I am his lover and his alone.

My love for him is not controlling or imposing, it is freeing and glorious, as is he.

“Come my love, come share in my journey, as I will share in yours.

Take my hand and walk with me, I will not let you down, I promise.”

It has taken me 60 years to find this place in myself and now with him.

I can finally shut off the voices in my head that would deny me this joy.

They are self-defeating voices carrying left over pains from the past, a past

Best left behind, not ignored and stifled but learned from and then put to rest.

I can now assert and live my right to be who I am, who I’ve always been,

From the beginning of time and now, thankfully, for all time to come.

Grief

The grief is still here

It rolls from year to year.

It seeps and flows through my soul and just when I think it has forgotten me,

it comes sailing back in fits and starts and claims my heart for its own.

Sometimes it makes me angry

Sometimes it makes me cry.

I just want it to stop.

I want it to loosen the chains on my heart, but it won’t.

I have met someone who holds a key, does he know he can unlock my heart,

Set me freer than i have been in years?

If he knew would he turn the key?

Sometimes his unknowing makes me angry, as if it were his choice.

“help me” I feel like yelling at him,  “you hold the key”.

but i guess that isn’t fair, not fair to expect so much of him.

He is only human and frail like I am.

But this grief has to end, I can’t do it alone., it is so much stronger than I am.

I believe the depth of the love defines

The depth and strength of the grief.

It suffocates and overwhelms me,

Just like his love did only in opposite ways. Is it a measure of love or loss?

This man, the one who holds the key, where did he come from?

Do I have the ability to unlock his heart as he has to unlock mine?

Can he and I travel this way together, help each other to live and love totally again, or is it too late, too hard, too easy to just quit and give up the dream, settle for less.

NO, I can not quit, I can not give up and let the grief win,

let it hold me down in fear.

I just need some help, can it be done?

If only I knew for sure, if only I knew…

Summer’s Love

In the abundance of summer

I am astounded and surrounded by life.

 

A time of growth, lush and green

When the Earth awakens and the cycle of life begins.

 

The trees surround me and hang over my house.

Watching and waiting.

 

They watch us scurry about,

Sometimes missing so much in our haste.

 

But the trees know and in their knowing they stand

As silent sententials with green, growing souls.

 

Makers of light, life and breath,

Keepers of the leaves.

 

I sense their souls, and can feel the strength in their roots

Sunk deeply in the earth.

 

They stretch their arms skyward,

In a silent Om

 

And it radiates from their beings, filling the forest

With its vibrations.

 

Birds answer in kind with song,

And mummers of life stir the forest floor in praise.

 

The summer’s love is not wasted on the indifferent,

The forest sees and remembers.

Each leaf and blade of grass, patch of moss, clump of shrubs

And form of life has a hand in building the harmony of nature.

 

Everything has worth, and a role to play

In the chorus of life in love with the earth.

 

The earth sings her love back

In wind and rain, fire and hope and

 

All of creation rests in harmony.

Solstice Sisters

Sisters at Solstice

Close in every way.

Tied together by heart strings,

Communing, sharing, boundless souls.

Summer eve’s fire of light and drums brings us together.

We woman are drummers, playing the rhythm of life.

Givers of life, keepers of souls,

Ours and others, together in harmony.

Old friends and new, first and last.

Time is no separator, souls know no distance.

Heart words flow and sage cleans as

we face our fears and hopes, hand in hand.

The vale is lifted,

The curtain swept back.

The darkness is soft and warm

with the fullness of life.

The fire light defines the dark and

our spirit moves freely between them.

Light and dark can not exist without each other,

like tear drops and smiles.

Throughout the evening, our emotions run high and then crash to

the depths and are full of hope and love, happiness and tears.

For we are women of soul, of life

and darkness, of love and laughter and light.

Sisters united in our love of life and love for each other.

Solstice sisters, inseparable, together in life and heart, always.

Sitting

Sitting here alone, but not

This sacred place, this field of dreams and memories

Where the wind blows the

Wildflowers in waves and

The sun hides behind

The milky clouds and is

Draped in sweet softness.

Blue shadows slip between the trees, as

Om Namah Shivaya drifts from flower to flower

On the wings of a bee.

The tangled growth at my feet

Holds the whole universe in its breath.

Dozens of varieties of life

Bloom together in perfect harmony.

No temple, church or any place of worship can compare

The spirit reside here, it is not just visiting, it belongs.

Services, Kirtans, and Masses serve to honor, praise and worship.

But this place, this existence of perfection,

Sings its own tune

Its own worship in just being.

The creator exposed in its creation.

The essence of God in the unopened milkweed flowers.

The promise and potential of love

for its own sake.

The truth can be no plainer, no more perfect,

No more beautiful.

I sit in witness and feel the grace in the grass, the life in all there is and the peace of this place.

The peace comes to me and from me, and

So I sit and by witnessing become a part of it all,

All I need to do is sit, just sit and let it be.