HOPE IN A SEED

A seed 

blown in the wind

tumbles and lands in 

the in-between;

a simple seam 

in the rocks,

where water pools 

and midday sun 

warms it.

Latent capacity 

awakens,

yet is unknown 

to the seed itself.

A lone sprout 

emerges

into daylight, 

and moonshine.

Stars, 

fill it, with

hope.

She takes hold

of life,

she grows stronger,

her stems reach high;

until the bloom

opens.

FIRST CUT (Spring 2017)

I cut her,
and will take her inside
so I can consume 
everything about her.

Her subtle shades of yellow
turning to pink tips;
her amazing fragrance
that can't be
summed up in words,
her stunning beauty
just the way she is,
and the hope she brings me.

LET IT MOVE THROUGH

Sisters and aunties and mamas, I invite you to come sit with me to express your pain.

Recognize the tricks in your mind and allow generation's old traumas of your grandmothers and mothers and sisters and daughters...

...let them all move through you so your heart can dance freely.

Be brave, be you!

Feel it all in the safety of this beautiful intimate nest, a place where you can sob, you can laugh, and you can rage, as long and as often as you need to!, so you may radiate the colors of your personal palette, delightfully free!

Brothers and uncles and daddies, I invite you to come sit with me to cry your tears, set down your spears, and recognize your ancient fears.

Let generation's old traumas of your grandfathers and fathers and brothers and sons...

...let them all move through you so your consciousness can rest peacefully grounded in the present moment, and be set free.

Be brave, be you!

Feel it all in the safety of this warm, intimate nest; a place where your heart can be nurtured as long and as often as you need it to, so you can be nourished in the world, while you craft your gifts and give them, joyously.

May we all serve the world in our hearts and souls, with love and freedom.

FOR THE WORLD IN PAIN

When heavy rain
pours through
whipping winds 
like endless tears
ripped from hearts
torn by war,
the world
cries in pain,
the soul weeps
deep
crying in waves
and currents of
grief and fear
like rippled echoes
of darkness.

Come home now, sit by the fire.

THE LEAP IS THE THING

I am back,
after a time out there...

seeking
pushing
pulling
looking
resolving
trying
formulating
answering
and solving

...Life’s equations.

I am back.
And I remember!

The leap is the thing.

Take it,
and live in the mystery.

Illustration: Deva Padma

HOPE

There is hope
in the embrace of love.

Not a blind trust
in rainbows or light,
but a sweet
surrender

when we feel "no"

and then a trust, that

in loving the shadow
it will transform,

like blossoming roses
inspiring delight.

Artwork: Shiloh Sophia McCloud

SOON BUDS WILL EMERGE

What weather is washing through your world?

Is the rising angle of the sun inspiring you with hope?
Or is it shining too brightly on the gray comfort of your grief?

Are spring pollens excitedly carrying forward and giving birth to your dreams?
Or are the bees and hummingbirds simply scattering your visions to pretty petals with no discernment and without a plan?

Is the growing green filling your heart, infusing it with fullness and mindless and smiling joy?
Or does it invade and irritate you, penetrating the dull and dark closure of those four chambers in your chest, the ones you think you’d rather leave alone?

Are the spring winds whipping you awake at dawn?

I feel these sacred whirls of chaos and change spinning me like a tornado, churning up winter’s quiet and sleep.

I thought I’d be resting forever, but my blood turned into a gusty and warm breeze waking the subtly slumbering spaces I still have inside.

Soon buds will emerge, maybe even from my limbs. I wonder, what will the garden look like this year?

MEET THE YEARNING FULL ON

Sometimes yearning is fierce,

a raging fire consuming the path itself,

so you’ll free fall into the abyss 

of the moment.

Sometimes yearning is subtle,

a soft canopy of dandelion fluff, floating in the wind. 

It whispers to you as it blows against your skin.

Sometimes yearning is full of mischief,

a sneaky trickster, twisting your thoughts,

distracting you from the very oneness you seek.

But remember this!

Yearning bursts you into flames, 

obliterating you open.

Yearning pollinates your infinite seeds, 

fertilizing you.

Sometimes, you meet the yearning full on, 

and it brings you to life.

WHERE HAS YOUR WILD GONE?

Is the wild buried in your belly after winter’s slumbering?

Have you lodged it invisibly inside you, 
leashed to the grip of control?

Is a part of you demanding it wait patiently,
yearning to be released with no hope?

Have you required it to make a home for itself,
so deep inside that its messy cries to shine are
too distant and muffled to interfere with your quiet?

Where has the wild gone?
That particular place, breathe right into it, do it now!

After long months listening to the even drudgery
and pitter-patter of rain on the rooftop,
feel the wave of momentary terror wash over you
as you open the gate to your wild.

After your initial shock, grief, or fear;
celebrate the freshly found freedom and aliveness!

Do you feel the "YES!" resounding within with the strength of a hurricane? I do.

Where has the wild gone?
It hasn’t gone.

She yearns for you to notice her,
to give her life,
to move her through you.

Let the weeds grow rampant and
turn your well-manicured lawn into a field of magic.

Let spring burst you at the seams of your control
and breathe life’s universe.

Let it bloom you into the beautiful blossom that you are.

Now, go spread your seeds of wild.

UNSHAKEABLE

My creative soul emerges when the house is swept and death is at the doorway.

These bits of truth don’t make themselves available when I’m attached to the past, they require the utmost surrender, and the absolute embrace.

If I hold onto anything, the universe just stares me down, knowingly waiting for me to open my arms to it.

After curling up for the winter, I have to stretch my limbs to remember the chaotic place that feels like roots - solid and deep, unshakeable.

THE ABYSS OF ECSTACY

Drop your stories
and my invitation
will be so juicy,
they'll be no regrets.

Take a leap with me
into the chaos,
into the unknown.

I'll meet you there,
in the wild,
breathing love
through our beings
with and through each other,
dancing like royalty
in the eyes of the universe.

The King and Queen of
love - light - star - beauty - nature ~
what we truly are,
mingling in the abyss of ecstasy.

No curtsies or formal attire necessary.

THE FIERY FIELD OF FURY

Feel it rise within you.
Don't try to arrange or suppress it.
Love it!

The Phoenix has appeared
to provide a flame,
a fiery field of fury.

Let it burn baby!
It's fuel, be reborn, be fresh.

THE HEART JOYS

The dancing swirl of being me...

No costumes, make-up, or performance.
I'm not looking for a standing ovation
or for ticket sales to skyrocket.

But the heart joys with simple expression, does it not? ...and for embodiment to be as pure as personally possible; and as infinite, as I am.

MY RELIGION IS LIFE

My religion is life,
the mundane is my ritual.
Emotions are my sometimes festive and sometimes bleak sacred ceremonies. 
My heart is my temple, 
and loving is my prayer.

JOY

The sound of morning birds 
chirping their sacred songs
before days of rain.
A celebration, a melody, of life.

THE DYING OF WINTER

It's winters turn for a deep rest, 

a living death.,

A time of withdrawal and without, 

a slow empty season.

A metabolic mystery 

where layers are more 

and bellies are restored. 

In the background, 

accruing, 

waiting,

is the heart-bursting explosion of spring;

but for now, 

it's just the dying, of winter.