Weaving
Portal.
Breathing inspiration on spring breezes announcing the flows and tides.
Acceptance.
Feeders.
From a small distance, watching, waiting… Where are the hummingbirds?
Patience.
Oranges.
Abundant palette bridging the fruits of labor with sweetness.
Balance.
Poem.
Joining fragrant greens, undulating blues, pairing tears and laughs.
Intuition.
Canvas.
Threads intertwined, forms take shape, penciled outlines, splashes of Sound.
Discovery.
Heart.
Emerging pink transforms to purple, morphs to deep burgundy.
Evolution.
Lavender.
Industrious bees spawning Purple in the absence of seed.
Expansion.
Keyboard.
Marching white and black stepping stones, angel weaves Colors in space.
Manifestation.
Trilogy.
Blending Colors, Sounds and Voice, empowering Inner Divine.
Connections.
Tending Gardens
I want to tend my garden of friends.
What do they need that they cannot provide themselves?
Some need chit-chat.
Some need play-time.
Others need to be left alone.
Some need gardening itself.
Too little water, too little sun --
the challenge is that each is at once a strong tree and a delicate flower,
and they don't come with written care instructions.
They're all unique.
All of them need to be seen and heard,
when they are ready.
Ode to Winter
When the termperatures outside are low,
and the gray skies bring rain, sleet and snow,
When the days are short and cold winds blow,
to family and friends our hearts go.
Swami Beach
How did I come to love Swami?
It started with being in love.
But the person left,
so I was left with the place.
Can a memory be reinvented?
I love Swami for its secrecy,
for its mossy rocks and dripping water,
for its salt-scoured rocks I can rest on
as I turn around and face the undulating horizon
with its unlimited possbilities.
Don't Fall in Love
I don't want to fall in love.
People generally get hurt when they fall,
and bad things happen.
I want to Soar in love
and love what is rising.
Morning Joy
Singing your morning tune,
blossoms preparing for June.
A little poem to start a new week,
windows of beauty and Joy we seek!
How Many Times Dying
Eyes wide open yet asleep. Logical and fantastical while unlistening.
Taking the path of the multitudes, eager and helpful, youthful and naive.
Gliding the pavement, fighting for my life with a pillow.
At 23, doubling down and drawing the queen.
Folding my hand, keeping a heart up my sleeve, and fleeing the table.
Mortal wounds, self-inflicted.
Rising up from the trenches repeatedly, never seeing the shrapnel and shot that felled me.
Red heart, purple heart, blue heart -- so many hearts I lost count.
As in a forest, I began running.
Running to, not from, or is there a difference?
Climbing the hills and experiencing a landslide. Fleetingly feeling the ecstasy,
but my clothes were too fancy -- rolling asunder.
Awakening, heading south and finding a playful cat.
It is wandering away, and I am caught in the street and don't see the oncoming headlights.
I fell in love with a patriotic lady.
I sent one ill-advised message and was dishonrably discharged.
I plead not guilty, but the case never went to trial.
I simply fell by the wayside in a typical turnover of the daily docket of life's little transgressions.
Crossing a bridge and arrogantly expressing my rearranged view,
unaware I am being judged.
Somehow stumbling upon a path, thinking I am a made man.
Wandering through the Dolomites and Gaelic burren and cliffs,
then suddenly falling off the Pacific coast.
Arising and strutting bravely on.
Flying too close to the sun and my wings melting.
Viewing my broken self from within and then without, like an ethereal stargazer.
Climbing Shasta and the Sierras, and again Mother Nature mesmerizing.
Returning to sense and killing the dream.
Counting the times I perished and the buzzards encircled my brain.
Yet again emerging in fresh skin.
Floating above the falls washing clean the rocks, peering under a rainbow.
Pirates Cove
Have you ever experienced an amazing place and moment
and you want it all to yourself and to share it
at the same time?
Blues and greens, bordered and blended with grays.
Splashes of orange, yellow and red,
hidden gems of violet.
Balanced on a rock and seeking balance.
Through the fog discovering clarity.
How much of nature comprises shades of green and blue!
The essentials and the essence.
Paradise in the backyard.
Sometimes what you are looking for is right in front of your nose.
Homage to Sierra
White, ruffled and regal collar of a queen,
When visitors arrrive she’s not to be seen.
Then darting and bounding around the room,
Full of energy for the zoomie zoom.
Brave, steadfast tormentor of the dog,
Napping long like a bump on a log.
Under the blanket she loves to hide,
On her own terms she shall abide.
Sweet and soft feline, she charms my heart,
If I can choose, how never to part.
Everlasting Green
Wise sages stroll through Bluegrass meadows
with infinite variations of flora,
escaping the cities of money and envy,
bypassing lawns and fairways,
and instead drawn into
old growth Redwood and pine canopies.
Paths discover tart olive and joyful fern,
through silky moss and mystic jade,
as lucky as Kelly arriving among playful yellow fields
and tropical lime by the pacific sea.
The Blues
Midnight blue as the depth of a musician’s Soul
Navy blue as a smart blazer and freshly pressed uniform
Ocean blue as the endless expanse of waves
Seashell blue as mysterious undersea Life
Blue-gray as an Angel’s eyes
Sky blue as the happy spacious Heavens
Baby blue as an infant’s innocence
Robin egg blue as the joyful birth of Spring…
Such is the wondrous palette of Life.
Ode to Shasta
Boundless energy for the ball,
good things come in packages small.
Black and white with a touch of brown,
upside down smile, never a frown.
Tail in perpetual motion,
getting feet wet by the ocean.
Constant companion with Unconditional Love,
more perfect than a human or any star above.
From a farm of many cousins, Ohio Boy,
with your floppy, furry ears you bring such Joy!
Flying is Living
Try for smooth, level flight.
If I feel like I'm too high, aim for a soft landing.
If I'm too low, aim upward and climb.
Turbulence will occur at times. Roll with it.
Keep a parachute handy.
When the fuel is low, glide and conserve until refueling is possible.
Morning Clouds
Morning clouds like upside-down levitating coral reefs, cotton candy pink, orange and gray hot air balloons.
Artist’s Prayer
My works of art are treasures,
neither monetary nor to be sold,
but rather powerful sentimental keepsakes…
like carved wooden chests or shoeboxes filled with
collectibles and mementos –
more valuable than gold –
they travel with me,
carefully safeguarded like jewels,
simply and precisely because they are unique
and created in a singular, inspired moment.
The difference is, a true work of art is at its Highest Self
not when it is hoarded or hidden in a vault,
but when it is shared with the world.
From the Universe it was spawned,
and completing the circle,
into the Universe it goes on.
Let the medium choose me. I am simply the Vessel.
Let the Universe create through me as I find my Voice.
Surrender to Nature and Now.
Vision, Vessel and Voice
Communicate with the Universe.
Let go of eyesight, close the eyes.
Vision is Stillness, Meditation, Intuition – Gathering, Dreaming, Percolating.
Let the medium choose me. I am simply the Vessel.
Let the Universe create through me as I find my Voice.
Feel the Connection. See my Truth, then express it through any medium –
poem, music, painting, spoken word…
Purple flowers of Nature, red heart of Love.
“V” like a necklace, the ruby throat of a hummingbird, summoning me.
Slow the rapid beating of wings, the palpitations of the heart – stop to touch the Lightness of Being.
Seeking inspiration from Nature, Love, and Pain,
Nature is Sun, love is Fog.
The Sun illuminates, Fog disguises.
Both transcend Pain.
Disconnect love from pain, leave suffering behind…
Be here for myself, my Inner Artist.
Combine Time and Freedom,
mixing, cooking, stitching, weaving.
Surrender to Nature and Now,
Jettison the voluntary and flip to the involuntary.
Let go of solutions and resolutions.
There may have been a beginning, but there is no ending,
just as there is no ending to the Journey.
Old Soul
I know everything, and I know nothing. I’m an old soul, yet I am a child born yesterday.
Eulogy for a Hummingbird
One wing tucked to its right, the other juts awkwardly outward to port.
Struggling and failing to stand on its feet.
Resigned to your fate?
The song says Doves Cry. Could that be a tear and a stifled sob?
Or was that me?
Glistening red throat adorns the neck beneath the trademark black tube.
The drop of blood was an unexpected accessory,
discovered on my finger as I withdrew my hand.
How can a tiny bird feel even lighter than a single feather?
How can something so small and delicate have such a powerful impact on my soul?
Tireless worker, beautiful beyond belief.
You are a source of joy, and although I am sad for your suffering,
I am most grateful simply for the rare opportunity to touch you, to hold you,
to play a fleeting, small part in your journey.
Rest in peace, little bird.
Untitled
If the opposite of Love is Fear,
if the opposite of Black is Blue,
may we understand what to hold dear,
‘til we reach the portal and pass through.
Want without Need
Song without melody,
Painting without landscape,
Poem without rhyme,
Cooking without spice.
Map without borders,
Time without clocks,
Story without ending,
Love without conditions.
Statement without response,
Questions without answers,
Being without doing,
Want without need.
Angel Lullaby
Soft kisses like cashmere, tea leaves, flickering rays on a cavalier’s coat…
Pink and red blooms at dusk, through the night ’til dawn, and into the galaxies.
Sleeping deeply as seas and lakes, may your dreams be luscious as chocolate.
May you return safely to a new home and may your Angel light the way…
Cats and Dogs – A Tribute to Bulwer-Lytton *
It was a dark and stormy night.
A night thick with wet black ink and wind.
Rain fell from the skies above like large droplets of water.
The water came splashing down and through
our clothes, soaking us to the bone like a cat in a bathtub.
A cat and dog huddling for warmth,
sipping the humans’ hot cocoa when they weren’t looking –
humans looking for dry clothes on a dark and stormy night.
* No animals were harmed in the making of this poem.
Amaranthine Lullaby
Warm embraces like pink scarves and sweaters, coffee mug cozies, rays of sunlight on a puppy’s fur…
These are yours tonight, tomorrow, and into the horizon.
May your dreams be as sweet as cherries and your sleep as deep as the ocean.
Two angels boundlessly soaring beside…
Timeless Vitality
A hummingbird rests her frantic wings and alights nearby long enough that I may share the Space and speak with her when we are both in a calm state of Serenity…
I marvel at her dazzling beauty from afar – luminescent purples, metallic greens, and mottled grays…
She is never meant to be caught or caged. She is the Free Bird of lore…
I sense vividly the nectar-filled flowers and the Flairavi scent of sunlight…
Her rapidly beating heart reminds me of my own vitality, endurance, and propulsion – angelic flight, not of fancy, but of mindful feeding and clarity of purpose…
I remain deeply grateful for such gifts as they manifest. As fleeting as they may have seemed, they are timeless.
Moon and Sun
THE MOON
You are not a space race, a prize, a trophy, nor a competition.
Although your sphere, your face, is attractively mysterious and glowing, it is not an object.
I want to look into the fathoms, the eyes of that face, and explore deep, as in a well…
Shall I jump down with tethers for my safety, or fly freely? I am brave, but no fool!
I have been foolish before, and may be again, but not in this present…
Into the chasm of your Space and secrets, your guarded treasures and unguarded sights, Joyfully and gradually exposed.
Vulnerable as a spacewalk, wise as the heavens, masculine as a rocket, feminine as an Angel…
Moon, oh Moon! So far away, yet so near in my dreams.
THE SUN
You are the source of heat energy – not life-giving, but empowering.
Earthbound humanity in our myopia think of you as endless, but in truth you are not infinite. Nebula to dwarf, we would rather not consider.
You are immovable, yet constantly moving from out stationary perspective.
Illuminating destroyer of darkness, deserver of respect, your awesome power can burn, can kill. Too much of a good thing…
The need for sunlight is illusory. The blind do not need light to live nor to know.
The prism disperses you. Glass and water refract you. From these processes, then we begin the deeper journey. I take you not for granted. I sense you through Flairavi – the scent of sunlight.
I have questions…
Why do we love the light? Why do we come to depend on it? Do we see the color of light waves as they pass, or do we only see after the fact the results of reflections off everything?
The trick is to SEE even in the darkness – to love even in the absence of love.
Clouds
Fog is the breath of Angels.
Silence is a language unto itself.
Be in the heavens.
See through uncertainty and obscurity.
Trust the way.
Ask Nothing
Ask nothing of the desert.
It provides nothing you do not already possess.
I resourcefully enter the rich, dry landscape.
I carry my own water,
a hat to cover my head,
shoes to protect my feet.
I bring my eyes to see a trillion stars,
ears to hear the wind,
my nose to smell sage,
tongue to taste salt,
and fingers to touch cacti and sand.
My heart explores Possibility.
My Being, like the Desert, opens my Soul.
Why Is a River?
Why is a River?
Shall it snake, or may it straighten?
Can it be both aimless and purposeful?
Does the water make its own bed, or is the bed there to guide the water?
Must the water reach a destination?
Is the Horizon visible, or is it hiding around a bend?
The Horizon never arrives; it recedes relentlessly.
Is the Horizon the purpose or destination of the River?
The River disappears into oneness with the Horizon.
Does the water give Life, or does Life infuse the water?
There is Life both above and within the water.
Does the water surround like a coat, or is it a skin?
Birds soar, hover, and dip in defiance of the illusory protection of the River.
Why is a boat?
Effort expended against wetness and exertion.
As the fish laugh.
What is swimming?
Flailing limbs fighting futiley, or an imposition of cause?
Is the Sky above and the Earth below?
Is the River a division or a continuum?
Does the River make Sound, or is the Sound the crashing of Earth and Sky?
Is there a level, or can the River up and down?
Can it glue and hold, or does it flow and breathe?
Does sunlight reflect, or can the River light the Sun?
The Sky, the Earth, the River are separate or they are whole.
Is the River Stillness?
The River knows or does not know.
Choose
The slow glow of a cobweb
entangles or builds…
The spider chooses.
We choose.
Webs
What a tangled web we weave?
Who’s “we”, says the Spider.
An eagle’s aerie, a beaver’s dam, a groundhog’s burrow…
All in Alignment with the bees’ honeycomb.
Pantries of Abundance.
Whereas… accountants’ books, amateurs’ photoshops, designated landscaped parks…
Layering numbers, filters and bricks upon the Concerto of the Spider’s Mother.
Beautiful Mystery
Beautiful mystery
Unstudied history
Into recesses and spaces
I cannot go to these places
Not needing to follow
Yet curious to know
Answers not needed
Ancient wisdom heeded
Once escaped from yearning
Of a sudden, Angel returning
Joy in the sharing
Manifestations of caring
Angel’s Facets
Laughing at a floppy-eared bark and a hot remark
Melancholy as a stifled scream and a bad dream
Sexy as a beach crawl and a pink shawl
Serious as a meditation walk and a triangular talk
Happy as a cinnamon coffee and a jazz cafe
Worried as a carpet mess and an old mattress…
Zen as a poetry book and a Third Eye look.
Teaching on Growth,
Rarely an oath.
Sleepy morning peacefulness,
Refreshing evening gracefulness.
Expansion
Flower petals and legs of foal unfolding
Chrysalis and chick emerging from cocoon and egg
Sponge and spirit soaking up knowledge
Pup and cub learning new tricks
Tides and consciousness rising…
Facets
Multitudes of smiles
Like facets of a diamond
Breaths like waterfalls
Ballerina in the dance of Life
Not all is Earth
Not all is Water
Drawn to the beach as the Joining
Being prepares for Doing
You, Me, Us
You don’t complete me, I don’t complete you.
You are whole, I am whole.
You have your space, I have my bubble.
We are building our Container.
Tantra.
We are weaving our connection.
Let me tell you about a dog…
You have some history, and blessed nostalgia, and you have some pain.
The dog has been a constant, a light, the faithful sidekick.
The transformation is like the sea. Fresh waves, ever and rolling.
The dog frolics in the water. Then the dog is on the sand. The earth, ultimately shifting.
You love the beach, but you know it cannot stay the same.
Stay. And go.
But not yet. Not yet!
Azure
The azure sky reflects off rippling, glimmering waves, concealing prolific mysteries at depths unknown.
The Safe and the Key
Imagine an open book with a beautifully illustrated cover and an enticing introduction.
The first chapter is welcoming and sets a light-hearted tone, but the plot moves at an unhurried pace and presents many questions.
What’s this?
Pages apparently written in invisible ink.
Further in, pages torn out.
But not missing. They are hidden in a vault.
Even the safe is only partially obscured, not particularly caring if its whereabouts are known or not, because it is secure in its awareness of being locked. Capable of being opened, but locked just the same.
Where is the key?
Is there but one key, or are there more?
The Owner of the safe is the Holder of the book and the Keeper of the key.
But the Keeper is now unsure.
For there may be other keys. Floating.
Who can find a key?
Who will approach the safe?
The Unknown
The future is always unknown. What is different about your journey that you feel you’re heading into the unknown?
Words and Wings
We wield our words and our wings like a sword and forge our souls on the paths of awakening.
Magic
To understand magic, you have to practice magic.
I feel incredibly grateful that I was there when magic happened, but I wonder if I was the only one who realizes magic happened.
REBIRTHDAY
Happy rebirthday! I am grateful to witness your amazing journey and to have the opportunity to share in a part of it.
Old and New
I know everything, and I know nothing. I am an old soul, yet I am a child born yesterday.
Hope
Hope is great, but hope is for the future. It’s not for today, because today is NOW.
Now is the time for action.
Don’t hope to have a good day.
MAKE it a great day!
One
Hiking into a mountain range, I scaled the tallest peak.
Lost in the forest, I found a tree.
Enveloped in fog, I discerned a cloud.
Blinded by light, I discovered a rainbow.
Drowning in the ocean, I learned to ride a wave.
Gazing at the night sky, a star sparkled at me.
Wading into the sea of humanity, I found many to love, but above all, one.
Sharing Paths
I seek for, I hope for and treasure those precious moments when the hummingbird, or the butterfly, rests her frantic wings and alights nearby long enough that I may share the flowers, and speak with her, when we are both in a calm state of serenity.
Absent those cherished junctures, I marvel at her dazzling beauty from afar.
I do not catch her.
My desire is to experience vividly the same path for a time, and when received, I remain deeply grateful for such gifts.
As fleeting as they may have seemed, they are timeless.
Photo courtesy of Gwen Nelson West
Sunlight is Illusory
Sunlight is illusory.
The blind don't need light.
So, why do we love the light?
Why do we come to depend on it?
Just like love....
The trick is to see even in the darkness,
to love even in the absence of love.
Just Two Sounds
The gentle breeze and the chirping of birds.
The world is full of noise.
To escape to a wooded hill is paradise.
Only Add
Not looking for anything,
simply exploring,
I found You.
Feeling a strong vibe,
I opened to the excitement and the discovery.
As though gazing up through the Redwoods,
or strolling through the mist of a waterfall.
Do you feel it too?
Imagine you are in your Happy Place,
without want,
surrounded by your books and gardens.
At peace.
Now Add to that a kindren spirit
who only adds love and admiration
to the shared space of the moment.
Plant a Seed
After you plant a seed, what do you do?
Do you sit watching it constantly,
prodding and turning the soil with a spade and
blowing breath upon it?
And when a stem sprouts,
do you sit closely, coaxing and stretching it,
egging it on with endless chatter, however positive?
Or rather...
do you you plant the seed, water it well
without drowning it,
and set it in the warm sun,
letting nature take its course?
And letting it simply, naturally grow.
So it is with loved ones.
Haiku (a collection in progress)
Ninety-nine to one,
Circle of life continues.
Sunset to sunrise.
Where is the Muse?
Angel’s elixir,
Wasted not a drop and yet
the cup remains full.
Illusory muse…
A Pied Piper leads astray –
the heart is Music.
Connect to Source –
Nature seems miles away –
It’s where the root is.
Focus on what Is.
Millions of stars float freely.
Earth is in the Sky.
The Cook and the Muse –
Bundles of carrots and chords –
Desert from one sage.
________________________________
Drifting like a leaf –
Fallen from a walnut tree –
in the spacious bay.
An Eagle soaring –
from both high and low, searching
for a place to nest.
________________________________
Spider’s web creates.
Captures the Energy that feeds.
Build personal Space.
Stand tall. Envision.
Your light from within lifts you.
Sending love and light.
Radiant Healer,
Composing melodic joy.
Gifts everlasting.
Tears of joy flowing…
No one knows how long my soul’s
been waiting for you.
I feel a Balance,
Wellness, toward my Higher Self,
Soaring not Falling.
Deep violet blue
Discovered like a new dawn
mosaics envisioned
Azure sky reflects
off rippling glimmering waves
conceals mysteries
Appeared in the rays
An angel, or butterfly?
Alight or away?
Capture a moment
in time, a photo, a rhyme.
Compose life anew.
Oh sweet garlic fries…
Why taste thee so delicious?
Yet cause dyspepsia!
No, I won’t write it.
I don’t like green eggs and ham,
and you can’t make me!
________________________________
I’m still your Angel,
not hiding or wearing mask.
Questions we can ask.
What are your hopes, dreams?
What are your nightmares or fears?
What causes smiles, tears?
Standing on my own,
for so long. But I’m here now.
Open book, just look.
________________________________
You, Other and Us…
All three require attention.
Balance is the key.
Flexibility
Gnarled with few limbs.
Why does it change direction?
The Sun guides the tree.
________________________________
Haiku about haiku
Five to set the stage
Seven to develop plot
Five more round out theme
Paint the scene with words
Draw pictures in the mind's eye
Black and white rainbows
Immaterial
Experience and wisdom
Grow from a deep source
________________________________
Numbers
The old song is wrong.
One alone is not lonely.
Self is the first key.
Two can be as One,
if the equation is true
by the joint power.
One plus one is three,
by love not necessity.
Dream of what can be.
After two by two
A home may be four by fours
To create new doors
