Dear Gravity

 Dear Gravity

How I have ignored you most of my life

I learned about you in school

Never thinking much about you

Until now

(I do like that song of yours)

Yes, I have complained about

Your pulling down my facial skin

My bottom and upper arms

I am after all getting older

Saggy, baggy, crepey

Just today during a meditation

Flat on my back

I felt the earth pulsing and

Realized how much I love you

Gravity, always connecting me closely

You keep me attached

Like a magnetized coin

You secure and ground me to

Mother Earth, to my family

Friends and community

Never thought about you much 

No need to before now

Thank you for not letting me 

Fly around like an autumn leaf

Too often

Uncertain of where I will land

Colorful leaves fall when 

Their time is done on trees

My Soul will be gliding and sliding

When I am done here 

Scampering around in the Knowing field

Peaceful at last

In My Garden

In my Garden 

Bamboo flirts with 

Lenten Roses

Hastas and bushes

Scrap for space

Opening eyes clearly

See the elves and fairies

Sprites and trolls

Playing and wrestling

Theater of the mystical

Even green snakes

Dance together around

The Koi Pond

The spiders weave

Throughout time

Lightening bugs

Dragon Flies (or
Dragonflies?)

Crows, Towhees

Hummingbirds, cardinals

The breezes sweep

Through and rain patters

I watch in amazement

Wonder and delight

We are so blessed

I am You are He is

Although I am a biological woman

My spirit is neither male nor female

Neither black nor white nor red

My spirit is a mixture of all that has been

All that will be and all that is

I am a woman and sometimes

A jaguar, sometimes a dog

And sometimes a crow

None of these is my only character

Sometimes I meow and scratch like a cat

Sometimes I shy away like a baby lamb

Other times I roar with the best of the beasts

At other times, I am a baby safe inside a womb

How can I be all these and be my Self?

I peer out of my large, blue eyes 

I see myself in the office building and the creek

I notice my urgings seem like ocean tides

I understand my shadows deep within

To be everyone and everywhere

To be not any one particular thing

I bear witness and become

What I see, I hear, I feel

Noticing that I still live in this white skin

While I protest against racial injustices and

Climate change, attempting to help

My brothers, sisters, the winds, the planet

Myself

No, not a god or goddess here

Just part of an expansive whole

Just a tiny part, putting on the clothes

Of the refugee, with the mind of a soldier

I am a dictator and a priest

I am an immigrant and a gun slinger

I ask you to hear me

No wonder you are confused

Because when we meet, we imagine

We are separate and apart, distant

And particular, specific and unique

Not just parts of the same and the other

In this way, I can live and protect

I can yell and pray, I can eat and drink

Knowing whatever I do happens between

The rippling lake and the swan

Complicated, yes, but oh so simple

Longings

 Longings for what exactly?

Longing to be close

But not too close

Longing to be part of

But not responsible to

Longing to be seen

But not always noticed

Longing to have my way

But get along well with others

Longing to feel

But not be flooded

By feelings

Longing to be held

Safely

Longing to be let go of

At times

Longing to let go

Longing to join in

Longing to separate

Longing to rest

But not be too lazy

Longing to connect

And then disconnect

When I want to

Longing to merge

Longing to touch

Longing to sleep

Longing to love 

And be loved

Longing to be private

But be known well by a few
Longing not to compete

But to collaborate

Longing for intimacy

But, not too compromising

Longing to share

On my own terms

Longing for peace 

With adequate stimulation

Longing to be with

Longing to be separate

Longing for home

Longing for peace

Longing for you

Longing for me

Longing to live

Without pain

Longing to die

The same

Maybe I long for

Too much

What if want to

Let go of all my

Longings?

Cuddle Puddles

We came. We saw. We cuddled.

Participating in the winnowing work of transformation

Facilitated by our Spirit guides and two shepherds

We jettison from who we are

To who we can be

Part of the journey is challenging

Swimming through robust Resistance 

Until agreeing to Surrender

Part of the journey is Exciting and Ecstatic

The traveling into and through

Other realms

While re-connecting with ourselves

At one with all

Toward the final phase of the process

We cuddle with each other

A pile of passionate creatures

Experiencing deep gratification

Love, peace, grief, joy

Translating the magic

Into human, physical space

Anchoring bliss into our bodies

Claiming the Deep Rest of

The Soul

The Body

The Heart

The Mind (not so much

So lovely when the mind is quieter)

Feeling the vibrations inside myself

Melting and mixing with yours

Soothing and fascinating we

Breathe together

Oh, my! Am I falling in love

With myself or anyone else?

Or with Divine power

The Creatrix

The Redeemer

The Supreme Spirit of all?

One Lamb separates from

The pack of herded Sheep

I feel 

A unique and different style

Of energy penetrating into me 

Or am I projecting?

How do I contain this magic within

Without an outside source to inspire me?

Why not just enjoy

And share?

Holy of Holies

Answer my prayers with 

Delight and sorrow

Sin and Forgiveness

(I am human after all)

Am I just a mother

Just a friend

Just a lover

Just a part of the whole?

Is that just or 

Paradise?

Fear intrudes

Implants itself inside 

The Body

Do I have a Choice?
Or, is some path declared 

By the Divine?

What moves me?

Sound, bass, vibrations

The Beat

Energy, darkness, the Sun

Deep Feeling
What happens after a  

Profound grief, rage, or depression?

I ask the Wild Woman Witch

To convey my options

She beams with great jubilation

(A Sun, herself)

And bellows

“Whatever you choose!”

I choose cuddle puddles

Every now and then

Clearing out our basements

Who is that crying? 

What is the source of these wails?

Sifting through the junk in the basement

I find one clue

A doll, overused or abused at some point

Her head turned around backwards

Where did she come from?
Why is she crying?

I reflect on her presence

Her old and sad body

What happened to your head?

I wonder

Trapped in a cardboard box

For Lo, these many years

Not sure why we kept her

To mark the past full of

Youthful energy?

What a hard life she has had

Darkness, mixed in with other toys

Some softer than she

Remember the Gunds?

Cuddly bears and beanie babies

We wondered what to do with them

We could not let them go

Years ago, a neighbor asked

If we had any old Barbie dolls

No longer wanted

We gave her the dolls

Knowing her plan which was

To pull off their heads

I heard later that this little

Girl got raped in college

What about those early years

When we thought the whole world 

Was ours to enjoy?
What about those adolescent years

When we struggled and couldn’t understand

Why life was so confusing and awful?

What about our grown up years

When we strived to succeed and 

At times continued to suffer with

So much stress and distress?

Here come the later years

Ah, what a feeling to behold!

Seventy years and life is getting

Clearer and more peaceful

Relaxed and joyful

Blessing all the ways we got here

Regretting some of our decisions

But, rejoicing in several of our choices

We now live more consciously

More tenderly than before

More hopefully than previously

Winds taken out of sails?

No, rather, the breath of Spirit

Blows up new

Sacred sails that take us on 

Wild adventures and travels

Amazing Grace

To arrive 

At last

Clearing out our basements

Growing up Too Fast

There goes a 12 year old girl

On the precipice of adolescence

Full of adventure and discovery

She enjoys learning

A healthy athlete

She is smart and kind

Oh, my god, what has

Happened

To her?

Uncle Bubba split her legs

Only recently

She was shocked, horrified

Now, in her own home state

She must carry a baby

A child herself

What happens now?

Criminal charges?

There’s still a baby

Lots of therapy

Family support

There’s still a baby

The government demands

Her to birth this baby

Many months later

Her life is on hold

Seemingly ruined

Like so many others

What if she is your child?

How do you tell her that life is fair

Or safe, or hers to enjoy?