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.

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.