Why's it so hard to believe in
something beyond yourself?
I guess sometimes the lens that we're looking through just blurs our sight. But then sometimes it makes things clearer. Sometimes it's darker than the night. It's a lens. We can try to see through it or wallow in our blindness. Wow. Crap shoot. Die or be buried. Live or fly. Sometimes it's just the lens we're looking through, huh?
Sometimes it's the people we're looking with.
Where is love in the darkest night?
I thought the magnet of my giving
would bring me something
to believe in
How can love be wrong?
How can my heart keep on breaking
in the madness, in the making
of this thing I thought was love?
Why can't life be as simple as a dictionary?
Why can't the force of love be as
alive as the coming of the waves or the
calling of the grave...
to slay that which hides our face from love?
Show me. Please.
Tuesday, April 30, 2013
Monday, April 29, 2013
The best exotic marigolds do tell.
"We have a saying in India-Everything will be alright in the end. If it is not yet alright, then it is not yet the end."
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Shine!
Rise!
Leap from the cold, hard ground
You
will teach us how to fly
Be!
Linger in this magic
You
are life's sweetest perfection
Shine!
Step into the light
You
are a gift to the world
Saturday, April 20, 2013
Heavenly
This drop is not the ocean's movement
nor is every note the symphony's genius
Each tear is not shed for just this sadness
whose injustice is not this particular madness
If when you call my name you leave behind
that which called on you to re-define
and you will be with me, when your soul heeds
as you choose not to call LIFE by life's sad deeds
when you LIVE among the sprouts of JOY
in that space between the wrong and right
the home of memory's eternal yearning
in the making of love's sweetness churning
in that place where I will always find you...
Ohhhh...I think they call this heaven
nor is every note the symphony's genius
Each tear is not shed for just this sadness
whose injustice is not this particular madness
If when you call my name you leave behind
that which called on you to re-define
and you will be with me, when your soul heeds
as you choose not to call LIFE by life's sad deeds
when you LIVE among the sprouts of JOY
in that space between the wrong and right
the home of memory's eternal yearning
in the making of love's sweetness churning
in that place where I will always find you...
Ohhhh...I think they call this heaven
Eye on the prize
My little joke of late, to make light of my temporary woes, is to keep my eye on the prize. What is the prize? Being done with worrying...letting go of the need to control a situation...being free of a person who imprisons you with their drama or malice (or both)...or if you're a true champion-being good with what is?
It's no secret to those close to my heart, that I've been having a hard time with some things. I haven't been fighting it because I'm smart enough to know that none of this will kill me. Life taught me that. But not fighting it doesn't mean that I'm not standing up to it. Its new meaning is just that I don't see it as unfair. I'm not its victim. I'm just the person playing this part right now. Maybe this is a part that I need to play. I need to see what needs to be done. I need to see what my opponent is seeing, feeling and needing as well.
But where is the prize for my friend who has lost her child? Is survival that prize? Is that all she gets from this? Some freak accident combined with an unfortunate physical deficiency has handed her the most excruciating death sentence, and her profession of truth is that we need to survive this. It's okay to kick and scream, she told me. "You have to," was her final punch.
So a grieving mom who has every right to be angry at the world, even at fucking LIFE, has made it so clear to me, that we have to win. Winning is not getting everything that we want or think we deserve-winning is BEING in spite of the shitstorms that try to drown us. WINNING is being happy in spite of the arrows and barbs that are slung at us by our enemies. Surviving it all is what defines our life. Winning is learning to be, or be happy, in spite of what we're looking at, or in my case, through.
This morning was one of those times that was painfully lonely. I felt it in my dreams before I even woke up, and awoke to the reality that my current pain is worse than I had wanted to credit it. It's even, possibly, worse case scenario of which I was warned. I can hear my little tirade chanting that "this does not define me" echoing across the sky and back again after hitting the hills across the valley. But maybe, just maybe-this DOES define me. Maybe my eyes are erupting as a manifestation of the truths that I've been hiding from. Maybe the prize is something I never thought to ask for. Maybe my eyes on this prize are more painful and real than I expected. Maybe this ugly truth that I need to see, is my prize.
It's no secret to those close to my heart, that I've been having a hard time with some things. I haven't been fighting it because I'm smart enough to know that none of this will kill me. Life taught me that. But not fighting it doesn't mean that I'm not standing up to it. Its new meaning is just that I don't see it as unfair. I'm not its victim. I'm just the person playing this part right now. Maybe this is a part that I need to play. I need to see what needs to be done. I need to see what my opponent is seeing, feeling and needing as well.
But where is the prize for my friend who has lost her child? Is survival that prize? Is that all she gets from this? Some freak accident combined with an unfortunate physical deficiency has handed her the most excruciating death sentence, and her profession of truth is that we need to survive this. It's okay to kick and scream, she told me. "You have to," was her final punch.
So a grieving mom who has every right to be angry at the world, even at fucking LIFE, has made it so clear to me, that we have to win. Winning is not getting everything that we want or think we deserve-winning is BEING in spite of the shitstorms that try to drown us. WINNING is being happy in spite of the arrows and barbs that are slung at us by our enemies. Surviving it all is what defines our life. Winning is learning to be, or be happy, in spite of what we're looking at, or in my case, through.
This morning was one of those times that was painfully lonely. I felt it in my dreams before I even woke up, and awoke to the reality that my current pain is worse than I had wanted to credit it. It's even, possibly, worse case scenario of which I was warned. I can hear my little tirade chanting that "this does not define me" echoing across the sky and back again after hitting the hills across the valley. But maybe, just maybe-this DOES define me. Maybe my eyes are erupting as a manifestation of the truths that I've been hiding from. Maybe the prize is something I never thought to ask for. Maybe my eyes on this prize are more painful and real than I expected. Maybe this ugly truth that I need to see, is my prize.
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Celebration of L*I*G*H*T
If life is unfair, then just how wretched is death? Per the happenings...maybe if we see Life as itself instead of its unfairness, we will see the light. Love is there-in its everything. In the smiles we've given to our children, in the breeze whistling through the pines, in the glory of the giving, and in the joy that we always find...in the space between what is and what is not. Sigh...
Not quite two years ago a beautiful person lost her love. Then she seemed to lose a lot more. Today she lost her child. I wrote this about her 22 months ago and she thanked me, expressing her appreciation for the gift. Just what are gifts? Nothing to be counted on or held to-only just something to warm our hearts, even if it's just for a while.
My heart is sick and broken tonight. I pray for my beautiful friend because I fear that her heart may never mend. There but for the grace of god, go so many of us. We all sit and imagine what it must be like, but we just can't know because we always have the escape hatch from the deepest muck when we can default to the truth that our heart does not actually know this reality.
Isn't it like a setting sun
which you think your eyes will
no longer see
yet that bright light suddenly blinds
you, peeking through the filtered
leaves
Isn't love that way?
When you think you have lost its
bright wonder...
but then it sneaks up
on you in a smile,
or maybe
something to remember
Kindness and caring
are the greatest gifts for the living
but as candles and photos fade
these gifts cannot be cremated
by the cold of ordinary,
thermic flames
I walked the world and found you
in every setting sun
I lived pain and joy,
with and beside you,
and waited for you in each new rising
And now that you're gone you
mean more than ever
Isn't life funny
how its gifts so few are plenty
and that it matters not how many
because when the light slips away
your love still warms me...
ALWAYS and forever
*for beautiful Sue
Not quite two years ago a beautiful person lost her love. Then she seemed to lose a lot more. Today she lost her child. I wrote this about her 22 months ago and she thanked me, expressing her appreciation for the gift. Just what are gifts? Nothing to be counted on or held to-only just something to warm our hearts, even if it's just for a while.
My heart is sick and broken tonight. I pray for my beautiful friend because I fear that her heart may never mend. There but for the grace of god, go so many of us. We all sit and imagine what it must be like, but we just can't know because we always have the escape hatch from the deepest muck when we can default to the truth that our heart does not actually know this reality.
Isn't it like a setting sun
which you think your eyes will
no longer see
yet that bright light suddenly blinds
you, peeking through the filtered
leaves
Isn't love that way?
When you think you have lost its
bright wonder...
but then it sneaks up
on you in a smile,
or maybe
something to remember
Kindness and caring
are the greatest gifts for the living
but as candles and photos fade
these gifts cannot be cremated
by the cold of ordinary,
thermic flames
I walked the world and found you
in every setting sun
I lived pain and joy,
with and beside you,
and waited for you in each new rising
And now that you're gone you
mean more than ever
Isn't life funny
how its gifts so few are plenty
and that it matters not how many
because when the light slips away
your love still warms me...
ALWAYS and forever
*for beautiful Sue
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
Going for the One
Push hard
I did my best, which, was better than I had anticipated.
I am grateful and so very pleased.
A little more beautiful than I used to be, to boot.
It stings a little, for sure...but this will pass...the need to sting, that is.
Sometimes I don't even recognize myself as I become more like what I was born to.
Life happened and I twisted the plot a bit.
What was that need for drama? Was I running from nothing?
Laughter is a great medicine-when we don't take ourselves so seriously.
But here I am, a little taller and a bit wiser having re-alized what I came knowing.
Push hard, Little Laura. You've got this!
I did my best, which, was better than I had anticipated.
I am grateful and so very pleased.
A little more beautiful than I used to be, to boot.
It stings a little, for sure...but this will pass...the need to sting, that is.
Sometimes I don't even recognize myself as I become more like what I was born to.
Life happened and I twisted the plot a bit.
What was that need for drama? Was I running from nothing?
Laughter is a great medicine-when we don't take ourselves so seriously.
But here I am, a little taller and a bit wiser having re-alized what I came knowing.
Push hard, Little Laura. You've got this!
Tuesday, April 2, 2013
It's a smal world, 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)
...it is a small world!
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)
...it is a small world!
Fearless
If the road to freedom is a barren abyss paved with jagged rocks, the only alternative is to remain misery's captured. Either choice will be difficult, but only one choice will lead us to where we really need to be.
"The only way out is through, the faster we're in, the better." AM
Just do it, Little Laura. Fly!
"The only way out is through, the faster we're in, the better." AM
Just do it, Little Laura. Fly!
Monday, April 1, 2013
Home, sweet home
This is my home
this is my center
when I fly with a hummingbird
or shine with a star
where I soar with a mountaintop
and roll with a boulder
when the earth shakes in fear
This is my nest
where I color a rainbow
or quench the earth
when I cry with the gods
or laugh with the ocean
rolling endlessly to
kiss the moistened shores
This is my home
where my heart goes
to be with you
where I once roamed with dinosaurs
where I held your hand and heart
where my light will shine
with you, forever
this is my center
when I fly with a hummingbird
or shine with a star
where I soar with a mountaintop
and roll with a boulder
when the earth shakes in fear
This is my nest
where I color a rainbow
or quench the earth
when I cry with the gods
or laugh with the ocean
rolling endlessly to
kiss the moistened shores
This is my home
where my heart goes
to be with you
where I once roamed with dinosaurs
where I held your hand and heart
where my light will shine
with you, forever
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