Zebras

Every time we draw a line we deepen the crease between the kinds-ness of man
none of whom were born to anything other than love.

Not the Native Americans
the African Americans
Irish
Italian
German
Men
WOmen
children
White people
Gay people
poor
rich
homeless
invisible
space aliens
god
or animal

It's life.
The minute that we decide to lay down assignations of hatred and just see things for what they are, we will step out of it. We've all been victims, all paid our prices. Let's just get the fuck out of here.

The road show

You were standing kind of far from me
what was in your hands could not be seen

The joy in your dance when your heart took flight
called my own heart to join you as I was swept up by your might

The child in me would not lay down when I
saw the light seeping from your crown

I built you a road to come here, close to me
but I guess I'm the one whose movement is needed

So show me your hand so that I may dance too,
for I know now, that light and love are (y)our truth
 
"Spread the Light!"

The most incredible gift for me, was that of a friend who stared into my eyes while telling me what a gift I am to the world. Tears streamed down my face as I realized that my laments about not being worthy of love are simply not valid. Love has not passed me by-it has just slipped in, in a way that I never thought to look for.

So most humbly I thank all of the creatures as well as the earth and the heavens, who have shown and shared their light with me. This is why we shine our lights-so that we can find our way.  Thank you!

DJ 07 14 13 Silly dreamer

When I woke up this morning everything was different. My brown skin was glowing, I walked on air down the hallway and the morning light seemed as if it was shining from a new direction.

Everything is quiet except for the giggling of the wild parrots outside my door. The air is so still as I see the pine tree branches reaching toward me. If I reach out to grab one, will I get what I dreamed of?

Maybe I'm not really awake yet.
Maybe I am.

Uggghhhh...

Love is
not the stealing of your breath
it's not the con-damn-ation of your soul
Love is not the loss of what you live for
it's not the healing of your holes (it's the gunk that fills them)

It's just a simple gift of all
that my humble heart yearns to give
it's simple and it's willing
it's not cumbersome or costly
Love is not... a four letter word

I'm so sorry you never knew what I meant. I'm so sorry you never wanted to give me what I needed. Ahhhhh...it's only love. Moving on... Maybe someday I'll understand, although I'm not sure that I want to.

Hi Cuckoo

The sun does not rise

we do in

each incarnation

of love's light

in life's fine turnings

Form is senseless- a mere suggestion of terms dictated by one in an effort to convey to another what we mean. I choose often, not to be educated for knowledge can taint truth and lead us to believe in things such as the sun's rising or the moon's partiality. Some truths of others can open doors for us, but once we forget that we are the cosmos of all being, we are one with only darkness.

Why does Haiku have to be three lines? Go ahead...call me crazy...just don't try to make me believe it.

The end of the world

The birds' frolicking songs grow louder
Oh, it's going to be a beautiful day
Silently, I listen as your voice calms me
Guess it's time... I'm on my way

Thank you for the love you give me
Your strength- is always right here with me
This day won't be like any other
With me, your soul will surely hover

Be with me...
I know you'll be with me

Can you get this one for me?

Don't forget to turn on the sprinklers!

Does the desert know anything about thirsting?
Does the sky stop to think to be blue?
Does the flower ever not choose to open?
Does my heart know how to not want you?

Can't stop the rain from falling
Can't dim the setting sun
We can cut the flowers into nothing
But what good is it to relinquish love?


Why do some people decide not to love? Is the fear that bad? Are they holding on to hurt? Or was the love they had not worth the trouble? Sometimes my body and soul are wrenched in pain because of my craving for love.  I fall in love for micro minutes each time I entertain the thought of someone, as I try to be with their goodness. I can't stop crying anymore when I see that soulful love of couples-even if it's just on my television.

I can't wait for the flood where I will spin, dancing madly in its shower. Thank you.

Splash!

   Dream drops falling
between rays of splintered light
where there is no room for fear-
only love and warmth and kindness
   Darkness steps aside
as there is no room for madness
midst the vibrations of the
angels' wings, their ethereal touch that dances
   Time cannot be counted
when the rhythmic coursing beats
in to the the dance of timeless age
frenzied by the dreams we choose to need
   Lost in time and lost in this space
holding firm in this enticing place
heart beating quickly as if in a race
to save my soul, my heart, my face

from losing once again

while dream drops splash about me
gently tapping out the unsung song
in the secret key of dreamy notions,
the ones that wake and woo me

While I was putzing in the front of the house this morning a neighbor walked by and thoughtfully reminded me (as he spied my withering fake grass), "Don't forget to turn on your sprinklers." I giggled at his silliness and thought of a different reminder to the contrary, which I never hear anymore.

Hope on a rope

For what did the coyotes call last night
what bellowing echo lingered there
what yearning whispered in the proud wolf's howl
and what magic erupted from the eyes of the owl

What dream remained in the lingering light
as day slipped away, fading into the night
There is nothing left but the memory of dreams
not even the will to be as it seems,

filled with desire

or maybe, to just slip away

Hush, little baby...

Before time heals our wounds
time dulls the pain a little
Before the pain began to dwindle
we were crying in our sleep
and crying out in pain
Before we cried we bled
at least a little or maybe it
gushed from our veins
Before we screamed in agony
we were gutted by the mauling
of injustice and heartbreak
Yet before we were gutted
we fell quietly, wholly into
the point which broke us forever

But time will heal us
We no longer bleed
and the cries come only
so often
Just cry my weepy one
take all the time you need,
for time, it heals all wounds

I love you!

the red flip flops of wonder and greatness

All that greatness ever takes, is deciding that you're going to be. Whether in love, work, art, or nothingness...just choose it.

There's no place like home... (her tired dogs barked... :)  )  I crack myself up

Water works

If you stick a pin in a balloon the water does not trickle out. No, the whole thing bursts and the flood ensues.

Pent up emotions are a lot like an overfilled balloon which can burst from too much air, or explode when needled by painful truths.

Today's activities drained me. But I was ready for the letting. Pretty much begging to be beaten to death by it, so that I could start anew. What's the point in holding onto balloons anyway? All we do is worry about keeping them in our control, or watching them get away from us.

Pop the sucker and move on!

:)

Deja hoo?

Oh let me be the one

Who fills and moves your sails

The one who thrills your senses

A love that never pales

Oh let me be the coupling

That conducts your flowing current

The pulse that beats and quickens

The one your yearning dream meant

My heart knew yours

So long ago

It might have been a dream

But then I saw your

Face once more

Among the living realm

Why don't you want to be the one

The one who’d die to move me

The one who craves this radiant vibe

That soothes your soul, completely

Oh won’t you be the kiss of g~d

Your lips upon my lips

My sweetest song, like heaven's touch

Strummed from your fingertips

Your heart knew mine

Before- I know

In a different place and time

When I saw your face in

this familiar place

I knew you’d soon be mine

Owl be waiting...

Soft as a baby's bottom

Can we diminish the polarities
between right and wrong
and float freely between
you and me
she and he
earth and sky?
Be well in the center
between black and white
pain and laughter
heaven and earth
dark and light?

If there was no ugliness, we would all just be beautiful.

the Seven of Poetry

Speak your mind
and don't be afraid
of who's listening
or who isn't.

Open your heart
never fearing who
might come in or
who might leave.

Live in grace
in that place where
fear and pride cannot
taint your beauty


Sigh...this wasn't the actual message. It came to me in a dream which I will try to re-visit tonight. I wonder if we'll ever have DVRs -dream viewing repeaters implanted in us.

Tonight I will wish for an old dream as well as a new one. Who knows- maybe they are one and the same.

And if by a cultural problem, you mean that we live in two different worlds-I'll wave the white flag for the one where the theory and the impetus is to make things better for all. I want to live in a world where caring is the sword that fights for a unity, freedom and happiness for all. I'd rather have my taxes pay for happy children and parents and masses of families everywhere, than to stockpile gold bouillon for a select few who will never realize its value as a hoarder never enjoys its wealth.

This golden oldie (weirdest post ever)

Hard times are like that part of the day when
the sun is setting and you are blinded by the crazy light.
But- after it clears the hills and the golden glow spreads
its magic over the land, all you see is the beauty of
what has been and what is now- all aglow in that golden sight
of your aged wise eyes when
all that you have left to believe in
is the magic of what will be

Looking at myself in the glare of this screen, seeing my own happy reflection-the one with the pouty lips and the tight skin I know that I have finally discovered the fountain of youth. It's in every smile and every grasping of love. Thank you.

Look to the east
when the light is blinding you
find the beauty in the light and love
of what has always been with you

Beauty is not in the eyes of your beholder,
but rather in the eyes of what you choose to behold
Take my sight-go ahead
for you cannot take what I have seen
nor what my heart will hold forever

Thank you

That band of color intensely hugging the horizon
as the sun fades from the day
into the night
ever deepening
ever touching and bleeding
like a heart that cannot say goodbye to love

I am always grateful for the gift of your love. It is, after all, always love.

xoxo

For every action there is a reaction: Choose wisely.

I did. I decided to be with the love in it-the love in the past, the present, and in what I demanded of the future. How did I ever make any other choices, other than this one? Just glad I finally figured it out. Finally.

Thank you!!!

A bowlful of bruised apricots

Six mornings ago I noticed a bunny parade in the backyard. There are always bunnies, of course, but the heightened activity level surpassed an Easter morning's parade down NY's Fifth Avenue. I wandered over to the side of the house where the fruit trees are-exactly where all of the siwwy wabbits were coming from. I couldn't believe my eyes-in just a week's time the apricot tree had blossomed into a deliciously bountiful fullness. There were so many little gems all over the ground as well, half of which were already half-eaten.

When I touched the tree several more just fell off. They were prime for the plucking! So excited to see the fruits of the waiting, I ran inside to get a big bowl to fill with the sweet little treats. The thought of the gardener stealing them as he had our oranges was too great an injustice to chance this time while I had the ability to stop the crime.

It was the biggest bowl in the kitchen and I filled it in just a few minutes. I didn't want to leave any behind-not even on the ground. I felt that we had deserved them more than the bunnies, birds and raccoons and most certainly, the gardener (whose name I don't even know).

I took a picture of the bowl and proudly displayed it for everyone to see via texts, emails and facebook. I was so proud of my bounty.

As the week passed I gave some to friends and munched on some others as I was hungry. That big bowl wore down a bit, but was still pretty full yesterday when I bagged some more to send out to neighbors.

Today is a day that my heart is heavier than a big metal bowl full of sweet, home-grown apricots. There is so much at stake, as I stand to lose a lot. I could lose my house, my ability to help my children, my chance to go to church every week, and most definitely there won't be a whole lot of boots in my future if I lose tomorrow's battle.

But what is this thing I see as a loss? Is having less, in any way, a bad thing? Doesn't it just teach us to work harder and do better to get what we want? Is there really any justice in this world? Any worth hanging our hats or coats or hopes on? No matter what we do, there are no guarantees that justice will deliver. And even if it did, is my wanting or regretting or punishing of anything or anyone really going to make anything better?

I was stirring some onions on the stovetop tonight when I looked over and noticed that my half full bowl of apricots was turning darker. The majority of the bountiful lot were getting bruised and becoming inedible. I thought about the bunnies who might have enjoyed more of them had they fallen on the floor. Then I thought about the gardener and his children, or maybe his ailing, aged mother who might have enjoyed this particular treat.

There is no justice in this attempt to own and command. There is no sweetness in hoarding. There is no justice in looking out only for yourself.

Whatever happens tomorrow will be alright. There are more than enough apricots to go around. What's the point in letting the excess bruise? Where is the love in that?