Reaching out beyond the dream of what you thought was real, spinning on this ball of life, head now under heel. Ready to die, to live this life so raw, alive on ledge- dancing, hurling, freeing your soul to finally stretch the edge.

Thursday, December 27, 2012


Building my pyramid of resolve. Each day this week I am actualizing former, half-chewed treats that will satisfy my more divine self. Being a past perfectionist I realize that I often give up because I am afraid I will fail. I have failed at things-some pretty major things. This is not a waste of time nor does it mean that I have to start from ground zero (okay, so complete failure doesn't really exist). That is why I am picking up the pieces. Yesterday I added more exercise. Today I am exercising more and forgiving myself. Tomorrow I will exercise, forgive and __________. Each morning I am meditating on what the next block will be. My ultimate goal is to scale the pyramid, standing in a higher place, always seeing more and finding more things to love. I'm starting with me. And I'm starting now so that I am not overwhelmed on New Year's Day.

The little drummer girl

My father and his brother used to drink whiskey and smoke those cheap little cigars on occasion. Uncle John always saved his cigar bands until he had enough to cash in on a catalog gift. One Christmas season he proudly gifted us a white pleather book that bore gold edged leaves and very large gold letters that spelled


Once this gift was given to our family, my dad and my uncle would sit reading through the big white book. They came to the realization that our church was not on the same page as so many things that they were reading. This actualization set our family on a journey to fulfill the longing for truth that was kindled in my dad, by this large fake-skinned book.

More than four decades have passed and my own reincarnations have taken me from a belief in bible thumping theologies, to an atheism born from desperation, to a realization that if god is love, then he/she/it/them/US must learn to love based on faith, not fear that is labeled faith. If god is truly love then god would not want us to obey him, but rather wait, longingly, for us to understand love and come to it naturally and by choice.  How could anything else be love?

So many of the stories that we are given via religious instructions are exactly that-stories. Vehicles to make a point or draw a picture that results in our little noggins lighting up. We fail when we believe these stories to be the truth and believe that our faiths are to be based on their specifics. The fact that so many people don't realize the inaccuracies of the hole-y bible due to translation errors or blatant manipulative deletions which suited the churches, saddens me. The fact that people don't even want to know that the myth of Jesus coming to earth to save the world, and being born of a virgin, is just a copycat of  the tale of Mithra, the Persian deity that preceded Jesus by a few hundred years, puzzles me. We celebrate the birth of Jesus on a day that wasn't even his birthday. We skew his words and hang our morals and blind faith on these rusted nails which crucify his true messages- to be compassionate  and to love one another as if we were god (for we are god). The very metaphor of the holy trinity tells me that I am the wisdom, the yearning and the essence of god. This is what I believe Jesus told us, and more poignantly, what my gut nugget tells me is the truth. 

I have marched with the masses to the beat of "faith"-sanctioned laws, but now (drum roll, please...) I dance, skip and jump because I am free to be love. There is no way to save yourself by spouting prescriptive prayers or rhetoric, or to "come" because they told me.

Keeping Christ in Christmas pales for me, in exchange of a more enriched plan to keep his true teachings in every season, day, minute and second of my life.

rum pum pum hum bug...

Saturday, December 15, 2012

The right to bear harm

Drugs kill. They're illegal.

Drunk driving kills. It's illegal.

Everyone knows that poison kills. So we don't use it.

You have the right to protect yourself by owning weapons. Where are the rights of sweet little victims or their families? Your right kills, maims and steals from billions, the right to peace. Of course, those sweet little children can rest peacefully now, as they enjoy a new freedom- in a place where guns can no longer harm them.

Sunday, December 9, 2012

It's never too late for love.

It's never too late to say you're sorry, to pick up the pieces or to mend a broken bridge.

It's never too long, to have forgotten the magic, or to capture it once again.

It's never too late to show you care, to live the thought you thought before.

It's never too late to say I love you, or I need you  or I missed you.

If you do.

Saturday, December 8, 2012

steamy dream

In the naked truth
in the musky warmth
of flesh hugging flesh
of soul tasting soul
bursts the safety of us
Plunging into the aplomb
of knowing
where love melts the ugliness
of me in what I see
in your eyes

hold my heart tonight

Thursday, December 6, 2012

DJ 12.06.12

It was all new like an early morning's untouched blanket of pristine snow. There was a sweet, newborn baby swaddled in fresh, clean, crisp, white cotton nestled in sheets of the same.

There was me in the midst of it all. All is new. All is perfect and beautiful just as it is. There is never a lack of opportunity or the chance to be pure and better.

Thursday, November 29, 2012

The space between

Between the tapping of the drops of rain
blossomed an echo from the silence
As the swollen drops rained down from heaven
stirring currents of nothingness in between
the ether and the water, 'tween you and me-
mingling, clinging to light or maybe its darkness
Did you feel me?
Did you hear me?
In the clinking of tear drops shattering
Did the drift of this breath call your name?

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Today I am thankful for

yummy scented kitchens
soft, furry cats
soaring hawks
the green of grass
the yellow of straw
Alanis Morissette
sweet potatoes
Christmas decorations
my femininity
gray sweats
soft skin
hair dye
beautiful children

definitely love

Monday, November 19, 2012

Knock, knock...

Watching the sun melting into the dark
the very last sliver disappeared with
a shiver
setting a breeze loose which
rattled trees
touching moving and soothing me

show me your face...

Saturday, November 10, 2012

The color of love

the scent of rain-soaked earthen blanket
a song of gray played by the soft tapping rain
a swelling, welling, burning sensation of
a pumped up heart filled with joy once again
the sleepy, delirious drift into dreamland
a touch so alive it awakened my soul
when I heard your laughter and tasted your breath
while we drank, two souls, from one plentiful cup
and we basked in one glorious, fruitful delight
warmed by one roaring fire through a cold, dark night

Friday, November 9, 2012

Pillar of saltiness

I don't "get" the notion of walking away from people who bring you down. No one but you can bring you down. Many times I've heard the rationalization that a person did not serve another's higher good, so they excised them from their hearts.

How is my higher good any different or more important than yours- aren't they one  and the same?

What if instead of asphyxiating a relationship, you drowned it with positivity, love and light? What if you replaced the disillusion with compassion? What if you sacrificed your expectations of what someone should be, for the reward of your mutual happiness?

And no, my "guides" didn't share this with me- my badass, luminous sense of wonder and knowing did.

Saturday, November 3, 2012

Leave me be

the leaves are falling
and the brisk breeze stirs my feet
in the crinkling abundance to dance
as they circle around me

those who cling still to the tree
waving furiously, their love for life and me
singing to me of life and death
and of coming once again

to dance with that which beckons me

All who wander are not lost

(click to make it bigger!)

His questions and suppositions were the stairway
to his intimacy with the truths of life
which he lived out loud, on every page
which he laid down and for adoration, made
points of fancy to be gobbled by the masses

Yet he did not love another the way 
he seemed to love his words, the way
he always stood by watching, to see who
would take his bait
who could make him feel loved

I watched and followed his treks 
'cross the faces of the book of life
we love and wondered, why I needed
his face to show me
the fear which hid my own

I looked in his eyes and found my own

Monday, October 29, 2012

The hunter's moon (Prey tell...)

Sitting alone
beneath the moon
I feel my loneliness
like never before
but don't
mistake it for a defect
for it is a gift-
an arcane hunger for
wanting the food of life...
for wanting love

Friday, October 26, 2012

I want to be love

be the might of my convictions
and the fire of my dreams

make me love

cast aside the lazy haunts
of all the wrongs I've committed

be my love

touch the light in all the living
let me touch your beating heart

and live in love

Thursday, October 25, 2012

Waxing on

Funny, how the moon tonight
in its diminished stature
still shines so brightly

Magic, really, how what is, is
and that what is cannot be changed
but what will be, can

And in the bright light of
what is, I know that I will be kissed
once again, by the fullness of what will be

am I drinking the wine, or is it drinking me?

Sunday, October 21, 2012

Brian's song :)

When it is time
the dark will be eclipsed by the morning's light
When the time is right
Flower's petals will unfold and drink the sun
When the time has come
the ocean will  rise up and kiss the sleepy shore
Always coming, always going
When the day has at last arrived
the light will replace the dark of night
In time
the light will slip away and become the night
When the heavens open
your love will surely know the light

The divine right

Let not my heart be weighted
Nor my love be blind or shaded
If my light be sadly faded
When love comes once again fated,
Knocking at my door

May two fiery souls’ union
Come to me none too soon then
With a blessed and warm reunion
Of souls' unabashed communion,
Oh love, come call on me

Thursday, October 18, 2012

Deja Boo

I was standing in K Mart just a little while ago, and saw some costumes hanging from the ceiling. One in particular was a quite glitzy purple princess gown with golden embellisments and a tall, conical hat, of course. It reminded me of being little, when fantasy and magic could sweep me away to a place that was so incredible that it could not possibly have been unreal. There have been times in my life when real life has felt just that good. 

For a minute I worried that it has been so long since I've felt that. Has life beaten me down so much that I just don't go there any more? Is the mask that I'm wearing hiding me from what I really want to be? Or am I simply hiding behind my fortress of fear, whose unquestionable presence never fails me, from life's greatest gifts? 

In my book study/class last week we talked about how God wants nothing but the best for us and that God doesn't understand sin. How could he, if he is the true light of love? Love is not an obligation. Not real love, anyway- so God can be nothing but light. So WHY do I shrink away from thinking that I should have life's greatest happiness? God is not holding against me, or assessing penance, for the wrongs which I fear I must recompense.

How many times do I have to be here? Kinda' scary, huh?

Sunday, October 14, 2012

We are neither here nor there
we are not now or then
we will never be what we see
beyond the shimmering lights

the space between the air we breathe
and the absence of thoughts
of what we need
beyond the confines of reality

we are

Saturday, October 13, 2012


Do you ever wake up in the morning,
wondering why the same players
take the stage in your recurring dream?
Why does life give us the laughter,
the tears and the wisdom
each time we close our eyes to dream?
Is each blink just another curtain
opening to the cast of players
who came to give us a reason?
Is each tear wiped away just
a cleansing of debris to see the new?
Is each breath filled with ecstasy,
infusing the trillions of bits of life
that we are?

That WE are...
for you are my dream
you are with me
you let me be better
you love me in our hurt
you relish our laughter
you honor our love

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Where do those ladies go?
The ones in the boxes
sawed open by
men in magic capes
whose evil desire
to cut open
the living spirt
of a lovely lady
who just
from her life?

Do you remember the days when "life" could have held me from this living?
"That's not a star, that's a satellite..." 
...but oh, she is not that, anymore...

dark marble clouded sunset

When love hangs in the air
like storm clouds melting across
a colorful sunset sky
whether it's the dark
that cuts through the light
or the light  that breaks through
the darkness
There is dark
there is light
and there is us

Thursday, October 4, 2012


She breathed in, and then out again
colder than the dark afternoon
as if
death had already seized her limp and careless
Staring into the gray blue autumn
watching the still clouds freezing
as if
the very last moment before the ice age came
to stall
Remnants of life, love and hope
the pictures etched by the sharpness of the bare, stark
that cling listlessly to the yellow threads of the power of
Lingering in the cold, all alone again til the warmth of her
shattered the stillness of death's frozen
when she dreamed of sleep's blanket, to awaken one
the new life, the hope, and the treasure of

Sunday, September 30, 2012

Harvest moon

In the late night that darkened a strange city filled with mysterious noises and fear of the unknown, I set foot quickly across a courtyard to jump into my unfriendly vehicle that would drive me through scary streets paved with terror and darkness.

Before I could even get to my car I was accosted by the noise of a tall man yelling at anyone who passed him, informing them of their prick status which was elevated by their greed- for not giving him their money. I was only nervous for a few seconds before I realized that he didn't seem to have an intention to move in my direction.

This morning I returned to the hospital quite early. As I approached the entrance, there he was. But in the light of the day he was not so scary. Maybe it was because I could see his face and his eyes, and the fact that he bore a deficit of one leg. The space was retained by a titanium pole with a sock at its base. I must have stared a little too long at the sock because his reply to my silent question was, "I like to keep my feet warm." Yes, this soul had a beautiful face and a light that I could not see in last night's darkness. This morning as I walked quickly toward the hospital he stared at me and said, "You.....are....a.....lovely .....woman." It made me smile so I chatted with him for a little while.

Today was a little better than yesterday because my sweet boy was able to rest and didn't spend the entire day in excruciating pain, vomiting up any traces of accidentally swallowed saliva. God, it is so hard to watch someone you love, suffer like that. But really, today was better. The pain has subsided enough thanks to Dilaudid, to allow him to sleep. There was a bit of a letdown reflex in that for me, but as I left the hospital a little early to avoid the dark, scary streets and trying to parallel park my strange oversized car in the dark, I melted. All of the worry, loneliness, fear had melted my strength and it all came pouring out of my eyes. I just let it. It had to come. I could feel the salt burning my skin as I turned the corner and looked up to see that big, beautiful, bright face hanging low against the Berkeley hills. That beautiful, lovely, luminous face sparkled off of my swollen tears and lit up the dark, dark, night.

Saturday, September 22, 2012

I want you to show me

Plainly and simply
It is what we give and take
each time we cast eyes on another
or when we cry
waiting for a storm or
delighting in its thunder
where we turn to find an answer
hearing something different
what our soul summons when we inhale a flower
or run a finger along a blade of grass
Love is what we give to a situation
and what we take from it
We were all born of love
and in the end it will take us home

after all...

Did you see it?
It was a glint of light
mingled with day before
turning to night

one small flash of wonder
as I danced through day's light
propelled by the magic
of this dream's lovely might

Did you hear it?
It was a note of splendor
which harmony joined
in the sweetest surrender

one small clash of thunder
that wakened the earth
as sweet spirits slept
awaiting their birth

Did you feel it?
moving just for a second,
the universe trembled
for it knew what my heart meant

one small jolt of motion
one heart can't stop beating
one soul for its wanting
one great dream for the taking

     -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -  -

(And I hovered over you today
I hope you do not mind
but as my heart was flying by,
I felt your soul in kind

just one quick flash of lightning
which caught my eye...
your dream's bright light-
lit up the sky) is a small world!
Why does a love that
waters trees
and colors leaves,
not plant a hopeful seed?

For love, you dread
is all but dead,
save for the dreams
in your sleepy head

Why does this love
that lights the stars
not brighten
your soul's dark night?

From light so bright
you hide your eyes
as if my love was
a perilous fight

Why cannot love which colors the sky
and renders each moment's frame, art-
not capture, then enliven your soul,
to melt then hold your hardened heart?

Wake up and smell the coffee...

Would you suddenly be less important if you woke up and found yourself born to a world of hunger with no shoes? No schools? No knowledge of a world of plenty? Would your heart be unworthy of the love and abundance in which you delight? If the soul of the child that you have nurtured and protected was cradled in the arms of another parent- would it be less beautiful?

How far can the light of love reach?

Friday, September 21, 2012


It is in the stormy, wind-tossed, wild
surface of the water
that I see my true reflection,
a hundred times over
each framed in its concaved capsule
of blurred dreams and mystical musings
each an angle or facet of what
my face once was, or has become
til the storm passes, leaving nothing more
for me than one placid, lucid plane
of silence,
of beauty

Monday, September 17, 2012

I would rather be g~d's breath

crawling across the earth

or the place of fruitful death

resigned to new day's birth

where fences are mended

and tatters un-torn

where wounds come unwrapped

as wisdom is born

where fear is unwelcome

and love is life's toy

where the feast is not crumbs

but a platter of joy

Be still and know that I am... 
Taking some time out to remember that sometimes I am the wounded. Sometimes happiness has no ground because life is hard. And hard is not the obvious loss, but rather the undeniable hunger. So I have woken this sleeping giant within me and now she is insatiable. She growls with a hunger I had not known before. She stomps furiously as the earth quakes and her tears fall into tidal waves that wash away cities of yesterday. 
Who is this girl? The one more beautiful than she'd ever been, with a fire burning brighter than she ever knew she had?  How can anyone so alive feel so dead inside? But this death is not to be feared. It is merely a respite from which she will rise again.

And her spirit will crawl 'cross the earth and rise up to the heavens. For this is good.

Saturday, September 15, 2012


One hundred times
I have mourned our love

One thousand flowers have
died in my hands

One fleeting moment
in every hour

I burn again for
you are not the one

Reach for the sky

Some days I just ride the wind.

with no thought
with no will

Some times those days seem to keep coming

endlessly passing
without reasons to feel

One day I will wake up and find myself

in some other place,
someone different

Something better than I used to be

Monday, September 10, 2012

DJ 09.10.12 There's no place like home

Were they muffled beats of
a slow, determined drum
echoing through the mist
of my dream?
But awake was I when
the haunting grabbed me
and whispered those words
so familiar
For they were my own truth
my own dance
my music played sweetly in
my own heart

Monday, September 3, 2012

the super moon

Last night I asked the angels
to show my love to me
to bring me to his splendor
awakened in my dream

Perched on the edge of a thick white cloud
I spread my wings and calling out
you heard my song and then you came
and we danced across the sky

Morning's glory gently woke me
from my soft, green grassy nest
but she dared not take from me,
you, my greatest awakening

Walking the path the whispered
pleas wafted to me from the trees
The words, unclear, I could not hear
yet I knew they spoke of you, my dear

So I ran through the streets
of this big, scary city
searching for you
in every nook and cranny

Scanning the faces of
each one in the masses
Holding my breath til
each soul by me, passed

And I wait tired in the light
on the corner in the night
Oh angels, hear my prayer
One more time- please take me there

a little less noise there...

Stepping out from under the cover of the awning
into the warmth of the waning summer's sun
I thought I'd hear the birds singing and
the happy children laughing
But there was nothing

not even silence

til I laid down my thoughts
and stared into the deep blue sky
that swept me away with a speed that tingled
as I mingled with the white clouds, whose awe nestled me

Thursday, August 30, 2012

Do you have a minute
to grant me just one answer
to the question in my mind
to this calling from my heart
for i loved you deeply
and bowed in gratitude at your feet
I adored your laughter
and gazed at your beauty
I waited while you slept
and I held you when you couldn't
your tears were the penance of my sins, so
as precious, never wiped from the face of
sorrow we held together
and as i remember the times that
I burned for you
and the times my heart melted
There is just one remaining wonder
in the mauling of my heart...
                                              do you ever think of me?

Sunday, August 26, 2012

My foolish heart
that tumbles with weeds
that giggles in folly
and begs for love's plea

awakened in tears of
the early morning's fog
or lulled by the chorus
of the crickets' rhythmic song

my heart becomes one with
the patter of the rain
or the rushing of a river
whether to swell or sadly drain

my foolish heart joins
the echoes of the thunder in the hills
never thinking for a moment
of the possibility of its will- or its won't

In the butterfly so free or
the howling young coyote
the call of the beckoned love
is what my heart sees clear enough

in the face of the man whose
name I never knew
my heart bowed down before his
kindness, before his love of you

and I loved him
for just one moment
for his beauty and his song
that can be heard in the
flitting of the butterfly's wings
the call of the coyote
the river's rushing mightily
as the rain pours down gently
tickling my laughing soul

for love is love is love

even just for a moment

Saturday, August 18, 2012

Born again

The skeleton key to happiness is in crucifying the confines of belief. Transcend the closet and be what best serves your heart, and what makes the world better. Let the light in.

Oh those sharp little edges. Don't play with that knife unless you're willing to bleed. :)


Prowling the hills
solitary we hunt
for sustenance
we scour the earth

Finding the kill
that pertinent fill
but rooting for pain
we’re just hungry again

Rip it to shreds
mouth dripping with blood
Coming up for air
we have nothing to fear

Can you survive the stream
Of the blood that flows
Can you rip it to shreds
Will you break bread with me

Will you wear the warm pelt
As we worship the sun
And peacefully slumber
Once the feasting is done

Can the warmth of our flesh
thaw the raw of our souls
Can the depth of our truths
quench us, hungry carnivores

As they lay in the dirt
our hearts beating aloud
They poke and they laugh
The finger pointing crowd

Can you swim up the stream
Of the blood that flows
Can you rip it to shreds
Won't you break bread with me

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

GJ 08.14.12

Today was wonderful. I worked hard and I helped people and although my body tired, my spirit did not. This part of me has finally come home. It took longer than I wanted but it came. My hunger bade its return. But return, it could not, until I learned to hunger once again. Thank you, life. Thank you, love. Thank you for bringing me home.  Thank you for staying with me while I have learned to be strong again. Thank you for teaching me that there is nothing weak about weakness. Thank you that I feel beautiful again. Thank you that my body is becoming strong again. Thank you that my children are healing and becoming bountifully happy. Thank you. Thank you for taking care of even my strangest little needs, every time I dare to honor or speak them. Thank you for what is coming, and for my thankful heart which spills over, filling the river on which I will sail into happiness.
Thank you.

Monday, August 13, 2012

Hold my heart tonight
keep it safe from all the sounds
of loneliness and fear
and of things I cannot dream

Hold me close tonight
be the soothing balm that
heals me be the easy slip that
frees me...
from me
Hold my heart tonight
reach your strong heart toward mine
sit beside me in the dimming light
be my brightness, be my guide

Please, won't you hold my heart tonight
hold me close through all the darkness
while I cherish the light and kindness
beating through your heart to mine

...hold my heart

Saturday, August 11, 2012


when it calls my name and reaches out to me
love never lets me fail to see
the hours that I cried nor the minutes I was free
for it all is what has made this of me

when I reach through the jagged fence of my heart
love never fails to make me bleed
for it is in the keeping of the goddess, lovely
that loving this light will set me free

it's not the questions that burn down the long night
that force the light to make me see
it is when love calls my name, so lovingly,
in god's face, the mirror, I can finally be


For I must have been the heart of god
when Love was what god thought of

In the radiance of his loving kindness
I ignite the sky's lights by the billions

And in morning's gift of sky so blue, I swear-
god loves me more, when my thoughts are true

In me, so right, I am blessed and beloved
for I must have been what god thought of

When god first thought to Love

Friday, August 10, 2012


Throwing in the towel. Not the towel I need, but the one that I don't need. The one that sits in the cupboard, unused because it's too pretty to mess up.
Giving away the excess. Not the things that warm me, but the ones that sit cold and alone because I do not love them. What's the point in saving things that do not suit me, when there are hungry people waiting for food? What's the point of cluttering my energy with remnants of the sad past, when instead I could be making room for the hope that I need?

Stagnancy clutters the vibration so I'm throwing out the towel...

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

you can

Swimming out into the deep blue sea
Floating quietly for a moment til any
Thoughts of returning to safety pale
In the light of going for it

Reaching for the splendid dream
Of love or light or bliss
I cannot shelter my heart or soul
From the fear of maybe, losing it

In each day or hour or moment
When fear and doubt are spurned
The moment of bliss when I  touch the light-
This is the point of know return

Tuesday, July 31, 2012

DJ 07.31.12 (an afternoon nap)

Listening to the wind whispering through my pine trees, I can hear nothing else. Just three trees-a drop in the universal thicket of sound. What if, all of our ethereal voices joined to echo the laughter of the universe, the voice of compassion, the trumpets of love and life? What if we all joined in that harmony? Could anything else be heard? Ever?

Kinda' funny, how loud a whisper can be!

a good death

When I let go I can see things
I never thought to think to see
The swirls in the lucky stained glass heart
Or the curves within the witch’s ball
The fly who perches upon my glass
Whether he’s licking the salt or craving the lime
All things that I see when I take the time
And sometimes I remember how it felt
Driving down that road with the wind
Blowing furiously, my longish hair, in my face
Sticking to my glossy lips, which smile
When I touch them because life,
In spite of itself, is more beautiful
Than its hardness that once petrified me
And made me bleed from my repentant knees
If just for a little while
But death is so good
When it clears the way for
Sticky lips and glassy curves
And stained, swirling glass
That always, always makes me smile
No reason other than,
Being beautiful, being lucky...
being blissed

Monday, July 30, 2012

DJ 07.30.12

First glimpses of light befriend the fingers of the trees
the hands of freedom not yet flying, safely nested
bowed in reverence, wings held in prayer
silence fills souls that lay sleepily dreaming in bed
Not yet woken, life understands its love of goodness
when the morning stars sing together
and all sons of man shout in joy
as the earth quietly dreams a deeper dream

and we are ONE
ONE heart
ONE love
ONE world
in the absence of knowing
One day we will awaken and remember the dream

Friday, July 27, 2012

good mourning

When your heart hurts and you can't feel the living
when the sun does not burn through the morning gray
when the absence of flitting, flapping birds stunts the forest
and laughter cannot be seen, felt or heard
you breathe in the cold and quiet gray

until your heart beats again

Pain becomes unbearable only when you keep fighting it. In your mind, the land of fear and distorted reality, pain is magnified. Blown up into an unconquerable monster that will torture you emotionally and physically, you hide from pain. But this insurmountable affliction is not real. Stick a pin in it and see it evaporate into the condensed puddle of tears it will actually cry. There is no flood that will drown you. Don't run from pain. Be with it. Let it. And then ride the night into the splintered light of morning, then into the brightness of the day.

Thursday, July 26, 2012

it matters

Getting into heaven or acquiring good karma are not my motives for practicing compassion or doing good things. When I am even one nth of a reason that someone's life/day/moment is better, I am in heaven and I have already received my reward. It's that simple.

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

DJ 07.25.12

Kneeling before a white stone altar, with my forehead touching the ground as if we were exchanging our views-
I heard the call to sacrifice, in a sweet voice's song, and without question-
placed my heart on the table
Blood dripping and streaming heavier with each post-mortal pulse
making its way over the bull-nosed edge, falling slowly, only when it had pooled heavily, into the ground below
My white garment's knees stained with my own blood, I watched the pulsing drain my own heart of its thickened, nebulous waters
Til it was no longer dripping, no longer seeping-
life was gone

Til the rains started falling, washing away the pain-ted debris, quenching, cleansing, and anointing me

Yes, it is a good day to die. May my death be a good one.

:) Rain dance

Friday, July 20, 2012

Teacher, Teacher, teach me love

The thing about me is that I will gladly pay higher taxes
and give more than I need to give
to divert the hunger of a beloved grandmother
or a cherished baby
or its sweet little puppy

And even stranger still, I suppose
is that if a starving man
were robbing my house I would
help him fill his bag
and bake him cookies for the road

If my friend should choose to persecute me
for these decisions which bleed HIS heart dry
then let me hand him the nails
let me carry my cross
let me turn the other cheek

For in doing so I hear with a
new ear
and see with a new eye
and love with a new heart
And we all win

Had I not sinned against many men
'ruined' the lives of those who chose to love me
not taken from people what should have
been theirs to love
I would not know the power of redemption or
the value of forgiveness

Haven't we all sinned against life,
against man?
Haven't we all had to learn to do pennance?
If we take an eye for every eye,
how will we ever see the good?

Hmmmm... but a world full of blind men definitely diminishes the most devastating judgments of all. Maybe we could just love each other for what we really are and not how we look, or how we feel. But maybe, for how we listen, or we love.  Sigh...

The spoils of war

Isn't there always a bigger picture than just what lies on your table? Like the people who built the roads that you drive to get the food...
the farmers who tilled the land
the hands who plucked it?
the one who invented the machines that prep the crops
the ones who learned from the droughts
and the locusts
How about that guy who toiled and
sacrificed to bring you an engine?
You did nothing on your own, for
you were fed and educated by countless others
Give thanks for them
and their wisdom
and their sweat, blood and tears.

And when the time comes to change
be with the force that honors improvement
the one that turns the other cheek,
even if the spoils are not your own
Can you be life and courage and something
beyond yourself?

Can you be anything other than greed?

Can you honor  the path of another, even if
it costs you pennies?
What about your pride?
Can you sacrifice that for a little while
whilst the unloved brother learns a little something?
Would it kill you?
The way your gun kills him as  he
tries to feed his family,
rummaging through your own riches?
Can you not turn your cheek to see something a
little bit different?

There is nothing to win in righteousness
other than a shiny, empty, obligatory medal
that says you're right.

I'll take second, third or last- any day
if my brother somehow,
wins something, first

When one wins anything worthwhile,
even the losers share the spoils of war.

The power of now

Now is the time to do it
Now is the time to open your eyes
and ready your heart
Now is the time to make a difference
in the way the world cares
Even if only in your tiny corner
only if the awareness and the change
Are as big as the magnificence
within you
It's still bigger and better
than what it used to be
Now is as perfect a time as any
Now is where we are
and always will be

Monday, July 16, 2012

Saturday, July 14, 2012


Last night's soft rains
of a billion purging drops
become the morning's dew-
today's cleansing,
quenching renewal
a well so deep and
sometimes, seemingly cruel
but whose waters feed me
and make me, always
something different than
I ever thought that I would be

little yellow flowers

Clearing the stagnant clutter
in the pile of good intentions
to find only one little remnant
of a memory which I once thought to love

Hadn't I exorcised this demon
a hundred times before?
Had I not freed the hostage
of my will, my hope, my yearning?

The little yellow flowers meant
nothing to me in terms of wishes
anymore, nothing instead of reality's dream
now just the day's light, burning

And yet I stared, wondering
why not?

And when I let it go
I saw beautiful yellow flowers
for what they were and
not for what I had once wished them to be

For they are beautiful
and love is always lovely
and only weightless, soaring high toward heaven
can we fill the emptied, ready heart with glee

Last year I rented a dumpster to dispose of the unnecessary, remnant junk that was weighing me down. I THOUGHT I might have trouble filling it. But I filled it three times, each time to the point of overflowing. Sometimes you have just got to burn down the house. And sometimes, what survives becomes the surprise gift you never saw coming. Gratitude for good, in spite of bad. Let me always be bathed in this grace, and in the love you gave me- even if it was just for a little while. 
 For everything that is bathed in the light of grace, is, and always will be, love. 
Bow to your own heart, your greatest teacher.

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

shadowing truth

Against the setting sun my shadow walks beside me
Darkness is that blurry sight which cannot be denied

Walk alone, I cannot, as my shadow is my companion
We hold it all, we hold it close- for it and I are two but one

Today I told my shadow of the glory of the wanting,
the joy of all the sorrow and the bliss for all the trying

Her darkness did not wane nor did it call surrender
her weightless darkness stretched itself and grew a little thinner


Wonder does not begin with a thought
or end with a sensation
It is in being the fluid, selfless
essence that is present
with no beginning or end
with no form or expectation
it is simply being a part of,
in ecstasy

I think

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Film grain

Just another night
just another kiss
can ordinary sustain itself once
you've captured splendor and known its bliss?

Were you just another knight
giving me just a little love
can magnificence be contained
in a mere pallet of watered colors?

Was it just another flower
laid on just another heart
or was the magic of the giving
to become the fervor of this art?

For this night is beautiful
beyond my eyes' belief
not just another night
but the burning memory of something

that colors my heart
etched effortlessly into what becomes me
across the hallowed skies of night
into eternal sweetness...

Color my world with hope
You were
you are
you will always be
with me

Uncanny answer

Click for Details
The card represents the critical factor for the issue at hand. Pisces: An imaginative and otherworldly dreamer, selfless and empathetic. Inner duality, balancing loving tolerance and righteous anger. Kindness and compassion resulting from dedicated introspection. Mysticism and uncanny intuition.

The plea was the usual...make me more beautiful

Monday, July 9, 2012

DJ 07.09.12

Like the weed so wild
that will not wilt
I grow quickly, without thought
in the depths of heat and hunger

til the rains come, bring it to me

Friday, July 6, 2012


I asked for a new dream before slipping away last night. But none came to me. In the early morning's whispers I was reminded that I attract what I am really putting out. I heard myself wondering why, then, am I not loved? Could I still be fearing love? I asked to be shown how to dream something a little better.

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

Morning, love...

You rose,
arousing me from my sleep
with a kiss
upon my mouth so deep,
so sweet
Just one dreamy drop
trickled down the grassy blade
til the light still unseen
begins the luminous trade
From night to day
in splinters the light
as irridescent shards radiate
from within
Til a million blades
and one billion lights
envelop my soul
what a glorious sight
Creeping slowly
suddenly rising to form
as night turns to kiss
the misty mouth of morn

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

Flowers in gardens
a multitude of pretty
but what about those
that grow in the wild
the ones that survive
in the heat of thirst
the one that lives to
kiss just one bee
all alone in the field
midst the weeds
all alone
without a gardener
or a cool garden hose
or someone
to adore its beauty
Is it not more lovely
for all it has done
to live and to grow
and to be

Show me something real
show me your wounds and your
battle scars- what you have become
show me your withered leaves
so beautiful
for having lived
for having grown
for having longed
to be loved by the bees
so I can see you
show me something beautiful,

DJ 07.03.12

Believe in the power of grace. When we least expect it, a new door will open and the light of grace will illuminate our next step.


Sunday, July 1, 2012

Every great truth is only as true, as it is new in each birth into each of its subsequent, new realities.
On many long journeys have I gone. And waited, too, for others to return from journeys of their own. Some return; some are broken; some come back so different only their names remain. -Yoda


Isn't it better to bleed
than not to?
To break cleanly, than
to be jaggedly ripped?
Would it not be better to cry
than to drown in the
flood of your own
stagnant pool of pain?
Jump through the air
and be blessed by the thrill
of the fall
not broken as you tumble down
the mountain side, ripping and
bumping against every jagged edge,
slowly, painfully dying?

The morning of the densest fog
I remember it well
I thought it looked as if I
would drown in its depth,
suffocate in its thickness...
til I swam through its wonder,
in the space between the drops
the place where pain and blood
and death
are what save you
from yourself

The morning I jumped
to my death
and in that moment
I lived forever

surrender:attachment to friggin' nothing other than the ecstasy of "is"

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Morning glory

shine your Light on me
sing to me the Song of the sages
bathe me in your blessed Rains
color me in your Graciousness

make me Beautiful

in all that I speak, all that I see, and all that I know
let there be love

owl b waiting

Prancing down a darkened trail
lights have all gone out
The sun has settled in to rest as
creeping critters greet the night
Whispers from the hidden eyes
which never see the light
follow me to another world
where they can be so bright

I cannot see the moon tonight
It hides its face from me
But in its place I see the stars
The ones you picked for me

Inside the dark and frigid night
I watch with wonderment
As stars propelled by magic's spell
Race quickly across the heavens
The night guard watches, waiting
As the new moon hides its face
The owl cuts loose and rises
Giving dark's stars quite the chase

I cannot see the moon tonight
It hides its light from me
But in its place within the dark
Shines splendor in a new me

The cold but silent chill I feel
Brings shivers from within
But oh the stars that light the sky
Make quite the raucous din
I cannot feel the moon tonight
It hides its pull from me
But in its place the bright stars whisper
Their quiet secrets to me

Sunday, June 24, 2012

Has the crow who climbs
frantically flapping,
frantically screeching only to
glide in a circle, downward
only to climb again,
still screeching,
only to fall again

and then land in the tree
calling out so wildly
to a seeming nothingness
has the crow gone mad?
Hope is the food that feeds me
when the cupboards all run bare
It warms my tummy with thoughts so yummy
and never skips a dare

When flirting with a thought so lovely
hope lingers longingly
It flails its passionate storm above me
as its dreams consume and woo me

May hope not be this dreamer's dream,
but a prelude to enliven
And ready I will always be
when hope's surprise will rise then

So then what is it to be hopeless?
When nothing feeds you and you're as empty as the still desert who shape is formed by its lifelessness, and not the winds that change it?
To be the dried up, yellowed hills in the heat of the sun's  depletion- gasping for nothing in your listless, withered state, no longer breathing or growing?
How do you find your way from here?
Is there a reason to want to?
Where is it?
How do you find reason and meaning and life when you're dead inside?
When you don't even care that your heartbeat is fading?
When no one even sees you slipping away?
When you can't even cry?

Wednesday, June 20, 2012


Two days ago I sat the deluge of the storm that I never saw coming. It reminded me of my days in Tucson when I lived beneath an impressive (and gorgeous) mountain range. When the summer monsoons would slide in... everything was bright and beautiful until they were right on top of you and you were IN the storm.

Today I sit in the comfort of morning's fog blanket, on the rain quenched earth. And I am fine.

When I walk with you, I walk in light. Oh yeah.

Monday, June 18, 2012

DJ 06.18.12

After a quiet, wet storm I sat in the soggy earth
breathing in a rainbow
climbing one rung at a time
a different flavor of color
a new height in colorful illusion
or maybe, dreams are what's real

At the top of the arc just within my reach
the fingered branch of a colossal pine
which took my hand and invited me in
Floating weightlessly on its tip I
saw my brother, the hawk fly by
I called to him, begging to speak
for just a little time

Circling back with barely two flaps
of his wings
he landed like a beacon on the top
of our mighty pine tree
So I climbed each rung, skyward
til I'd neared the stout tip
where I sat near my brother,
the hawk, in silence

After some time passed reverently
waiting in glee, I asked the sweet
spirit, had he something for me?
What was I to watch, what was I to hear?
were the questions resounding at the
base of my fears
But he neither moved, spoke or motioned
we just sat in the silence
as the sun's warmth and light
burned the doubt from within us

Things set to right. Karma restored on a grand scale. Penance paid. Debt canceled. Joy. Abundance. Fulfillment.
Thank you!

Coming into your own

couldn't be more sorry for the things I've done
my cup of tears runs over for the flood of hurt you've known
if giving all I have could ever set you free
then maybe, just maybe love would forgive the fool in me

they say everyone draws karmic penance before their day is done
i can't help but wonder though, if it's not merely self imposed
how could anyone ever be punished nearly enough
until they know the pain they caused or til their own heart bled the same

but love, they say, is each person's sweet birthright
even the wretched love and are given love
so why after all that I've done right for love
is love still holding off, not finding me worthy enough?

Lost in thought, staring into the beautiful swaying pines...two large orange dragonflies suddenly fly by. I smile.

Saturday, June 9, 2012


That word could be a post all its own! It is a way of life. It is in honoring mistakes- even when you're the target, and embracing what you can become in spite of them. It is allowing yourself to also be at fault in a situation where maybe someone else is more so, and even when they don't choose to see it. Maybe they can't. It's a state of acceptance and love. Living in this state, we level the battlefield where we all have a better chance to live in love.

Why does water never need leveling? In absence of rigidity, its fluidity and ease simply let it be. Its easy strength carves valleys and falls as it never attempts to be a winner.

good vibrations

Touched by the words, music, passion, laughter, truth or vision of an artist, musician, teacher or love-
honor and give thanks. But don't hang on their every move. Instead, give thanks and honor what was opened up and lit up in you. Then go make your own words. Live your own passion. Know your own truth.

We can not "live" confined in the boundaries of another. But we can live beside them, intensifying the light.


it's all we ever really need

DJ 06.09.12

The voice of humanity is silent in its humility- not squelched by disappointment, fear, anger, or difference
Not knowing simple tolerance, for it knows unabashed caring- the essence of the being, not its form or color, mind or heart
Which, so moving, evokes a gentle breeze weaving through the needles of the pines; or the bellows of the mighty sea shouting

without a thought, always calling on LOVE!

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

The will to love

Is it the light slipping quickly
through the flitting leaves,
whose swiftness deems it
blindingly sharp?
Is it the cool of the spring's
evening air that freezes the warmth
of the hills' cold and stoney heart

Could the absence of love
be the valley in which
her soul drowns in
the early morning's gray fog
Is it the night, or its loneliness,
that chases her heart from
the hands of hope and love

Where is the will
the wanting and the thrill
for it seems gone from here
where is her soul now beating
Was it stolen by the man who lied
mangled by the one who cried
Has it withered in the famine's wealth of hunger?

The light slips through the flitting leaves
but this time it failed to blind her
for she is gone from this old place
and so the light must wander
In the hidden branches of my sweet shade tree, 
hides a sweet baby bird from his enemy
as the light quietly fades into night (where it will surely find her)

Monday, June 4, 2012

A good way to die

in this moment
true to yourself
in whatever you are
whatever you feel
wherever you are

of love
for yourself
and your feelings
and your ways of being,
and for your brother as well

Sunday, June 3, 2012

Why would you take from goodness, its good deeds, with your doubt and your shame? Let good be unto itself, in whatever capacity it chooses to be. Good is good. It is only not good when you taint it with your own doubt and expectations for failure.


Saturday, June 2, 2012

Love is a teacher, but one must know how to acquire it, for it is hard to acquire; it is dearly bought; it is won by slow, long labor. We must love not only occasionally, or for a moment, but for ever. Everyone, even the wicked, can love occasionally.

Love all the earth, every ray of God's light, every grain of sand or blade of grass, every living thing. If you love the earth enough, you will know the divine mystery.

Love people even in their sin, for that is the semblance of Divine Love and is the highest love on earth. Love all of God's creation, the whole and every grain of sand of it. Love every leaf, every ray of God's light. Love the animals, love the plants, love everything. If you love everything, you will perceive the divine mystery in things. Once you perceive it, you will begin to comprehend it better every day. And you will come at last to love the whole world with an all-embracing love.

-Fyodor Dostoevsky

To inherit the earth

Ask me anything you want
take whatever you think you need
Know that I will surely give
for love has made a slave of me

Towering tree beyond my reach
ever stretching toward the sky
never does it fail to shelter
the restless wings of tireless flight

nor does the ocean cease to harbor
whales or turtles or angle faced fish
with never a question and never a doubt
for love's beating heart is anonymous

It's not that I crave your hungry, warm kisses
or the grasp of your strong, searching hand
These treats after all are not mine to savor
but I once saw your heart in the world of forever

So ask what you will and take what you need
for mine is the deepest pleasure
when I pray that I give you what you need to become
love's devoted slave, forever

if not for me, then for the world... 

We never lose by loving, only by holding back

It's going to happen.
You can't stop the sun from shining, but you can let it warm you and light your days.
You can't stop the rain from pouring, but you can let it cool you, and enjoy the clean crisp air it leaves behind.
You can't stop the hurt from coming, but you can use the breaks to absorb the wisdom, and be tender in its wound.
It's happening. Be with it. Let it.
Always give thanks.


Thursday, May 31, 2012


In the last light
in the last of this May
Daydreams I might
speak of, in vain
no more

In wishes of many
in dawns a plenty
in strikes that keep
smiting me
no more

May's light is fading
no more will it be
the hope of this age
the fruit of this dream

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

When the us settles

It blunts the sharpness
Unravels the knots
Dims the glare
Mixes the dusts

Life, lived in grace...not taken personally...left to the wise heart that loves to love. But only when love is unto itself, the force of love and light that is not lost in the dust of selfishness. Light that sees beyond itself, into the us, into the absence of wrongs. 

I feel like I'm walking on air tonight. Grateful that I no longer "have" what I never had in the first place. That perceptive reality thing is quite potent. Clearly the attachment to any reality is what harms us. Why can't I just be? Because I'm human. I'm a mother, and I know how to hurt and worry. At least I'm learning to be the love I wish to see in my world. That's enough for me, for now.

Monday, May 28, 2012

Straight Up

Last year, right about this time I asked g~d's help in finding understanding for slow people. This was a request to help me move beyond the limitations of my judgmental self- to be softer, more tolerant and accepting, and at ease with things I didn't understand. Within a week I wrecked my knee and have spent the last year unable to walk, and then in a rehabilitative state. I learned a lot.

Last week, on my birthday I thought a lot about what I wanted to be better at for the coming year. Since I have realized that Love is not about another person, but living in a state of loving grace- I asked g~d to help me to be in such a perpetual state. Within days my son became so ill in a capacity that scares me. I find myself slipping into anger and grief, but each time I check myself- I find myself asking what I will learn from this. What will my son learn? What good can come of this?

Life is funny. Life is hard. Life is good. Love is everywhere- in the spaces between the dark and light, the good and the bad, and that which we define; always ready to be summoned and to be celebrated. Always.

Sunday, May 27, 2012

Holdin' on

Hold my heart tonight
keep it safe from all the sounds
of loneliness and fear
and of things I cannot dream

Hold me close tonight
be the soothing balm that
heals me be the easy slip that
frees me...
from me
Hold my heart tonight
reach your strong hand out toward mine
sit beside me in the dimming light
be my brightness, be my guide

Please, won't you hold my heart tonight
hold me close through all the darkness
while I need the light and kindness
beating through your heart to mine

...hold my heart

Saturday, May 26, 2012

Are you fully with someone, in your purest presence, when you fill the room with your judgements and expectations?

just askin'...


Sometimes when I lay in bed in the morning
thinking about what I need to do
wondering what the day will bring
 enjoying the warmth and coziness
of the bed's soft, clean blankets
I never think about how my life
can change before I come to this bed again.

Everything looks so different
through a different colored lens
Even pain is dulled by the numbness
caused by all of the chaos in my heart, my head
Everything feels different if
it can be touched or felt at all

A plane flies by kinda low in the sky
they must be going somewhere

Do you think they know my pain?

Pray for me- to live in grace in spite of all of this noisy disillusion
Pray for me- I had no idea that this would be the plan
Pray for me- to remember joy- so in the midst of all of this
senselessness, I can dream again

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

There isn't a cloud in the sky, nothing for the light to cling to, but itself. What I see is just a gradient glow of orange-yellow back-lighting the darkened hills. The tiniest crest of a moon is hanging just above the reaches of the glow. Venus is clearly visible now. Every night I wait for Venus.

It's this time after the sun has set and the air is cool as the light slips behind the hills. Each molecule of air is just a little bit lighter as it moves- not enough to call a breeze, but just enough to brush my skin with cool, refreshing bristles.

The last few days have been hard. Just last week I was telling anyone who would listen, about how great my life is. In the blink of an eye it can all change. I heard someone use the word "unfair" today. I wondered what they were basing that on.

The bats are flitting around in the canyon's ceiling, cutting through the diminishing colored glow of the backdrop which has phased into a strip of concentrated pinkish orange now.

Everything is always changing. I guess some of it just has to suck sometimes. I'm just going to keep hoping for the best, because hope is the thing that colors the nightfall and lives in our hearts in the darkness.

Pray for me ♥

Saturday, May 19, 2012

Happy day, indeed!

Before it was a river
Laid a dry and barren plain
Beneath the mountains’ towering
Slides to flash the falling rain

Before there was a mountain
Breathed land above the silent plates
Soon to erupt within the molten core
Unaware of its magnificent fate

Before it was a spinning earth
A mass of unfathomable light
Forced to be this world we see
Our pleasure, not our right

Before it was my light, my love
My name was always this
Conceived by the rain and cosmic pain
Life bore me, its daughter, BLISS
Click for DetailsThe right card represents a critical element of the future. Nine of Cups (Happiness): Contentment and satisfaction in romance, friendship, or other relationships. Achieving your deepest desires and savoring beauty and sensual pleasures. A state of joy and abundance radiating fulfillment and bliss.   

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

DJ 05.15.12

Having watched the rumpus from the safety of its perimeter, I was told: 

What you bring to the table will be your feast.

Friday, May 11, 2012

Oh shoot

I wish I could be the sweet young green
Thing turning its way up through
The dirt
Toward the warmth of sunshine
Or in the rain
Never knowing what is coming
Or what might pluck me
From my rooted needs
Always growing, never knowing
What I have yet to be
Then maybe someday 
I will be the faith of a forest
Filled with mighty trees
In a canopy of comfort
Always soaking up the sun
Always drinking up the rain
Splendid in the age
Of the beauty of the growing