Walking around amsterdam airport with a bag smelling like tea tree oil a flight, a bus , a coach and a 25 min walk to go  ---

but for now,
I'm standing in the wrong line.

                                                          ­                       Twice.

He calls me out in 53 seconds bursts/
Stinging laughing tears trickle jump ooze --

It was only a matter of time until he would see this deeply,

only I didn't think it would feel so much like
questioning what it is I actually want from my actions and why I'm destroying so much to get there.

Or finally knowing that my self consciousness manifests as a narcissistic, heavy missile on the other side of existence.

Or that I'd be thanking him, even through this blurred pain in my chest.

That I would push away just to feel that tidal pull of love's metaphysical gravity spool and spin , turning vortexes, drawing me back to him as the worlds we built burn , rendered to fragrant ashes.

Some where else
it feels different,
lighter...

In the world behind my eyes
landscape weather systems....

swierall /
cloaouudss! We are playing
despite the uncertainty
still,
life lives her vibrant hues through me.
watchu playin at fool !!
Dance where the music is , let her 10pm sunset strokes caress you to sleep.

My centre's essence clear water sustenance
ready to flow through these charred veins,

giving myself over to mystery,

you are further away then you've been             still
geographically I'm the closest I've been to you since last.

board the plane

love rushing forth for the angered tiredness from your voice  runs rings round my mind,        
                             prompts me
          I'm praying now, in ernest, to Great Spirit that I may have the humility and strength, humor and vision in this becoming....

time is shushing me now,
                                                     give yourselves the healing space, she croons as I sleep sailing through the atmospheric ocean.

Smelling on the wind, firewood.
the heat travels a warm bath around me.
when I set out in the morning/
the wind smells/
cool earth warming, slightly dried.
sometimes salt, I love to drink this.
Nothing to be
but observer/
bathing morning light
is playing now
laying low on banana leaves
got not shame
holds no lust
is pure
transitional beauty /
trust.

Execute “trying” but do so kindly, the balance is fragile and the tipping point is blinding,

the insecure monster likes to feast of fresh joy, feed it and suffer.

Charred bones line his head dress and the children slurp at the last bites of flesh, but no one eats together and she horrified at their ugliness, drowns herself in the mirror and they laugh at each others pity and they sing to each others more-ish vanity as each slither of their compassion turns to silver as they vanish and the scene is repeated in the good book of the law, he’s entitled to everything. These days he doesn’t even have to label her a ***** you think they’ve got it now? I think most people harbor the notion that we’re not very civil and that laws are bent in favor of some. Listen, the good book of the law THINKS he has made a fool out of you and of me. But a fool steps off cliffs because she’s so in love with life that everything is enchanting and everything is magical. She is essential to being alive and well, yet they make her out to be public enemy number 1.  

Either way, he’s sneaking the children in plain sight under his belly of hate and she’s crying in shock she’s gob smacked at the rate in which his searing fear burns their connection to a respect for themselves, she is not bound to this flesh but she is bound to her duty as a mother, what fallow may this be I wonder as I sits and I waits in my sequoia self tree, I wonder as I sits and I waits in my mangrove mud.

She’s readjusting her vision and I’m over the hill, maybe I’m selfish maybe I’m cruel maybe I’m a jester to none, but I laugh a little tune and beat on my drum , maybe I’m downright rude but I’m not able to feel the depth of her mourning but I’m scared in it’s place       I‘ve got shadows on top of me and I don’t want to lose grace or compassion but it’s those ghosts that are leaving me slowly

s l o w l e y

and I want them away, let me open my arms now when I am ready.

I wonder with a heart beating yet, does it hurt him?
or does the taste of oblivion still whet?
Or is is the musk of revenge of who knows what, singing out sweetly on the breaking of one mothers back? Perhaps I lack the proper vision to see what this is all about. I ask that I relinquish myself from her now because I feel what she feels in such clarity and more often than not I’m shaken at the barbarity
that plays down on the unpleasant and on the wretched and at the stinky and it’s uncomfortable to stab myself every time she says I’m not perfect. Between you and me it’s easing, it’s easing. I know of the root to this nausea , it's the mother that came before her.

I’m not one to forget, but I’ll take my time to remember. Remember that my strength warrants my gentleness but that involves **** near heavenly trust because we’re nearing a precipice of our life long surrender
to the current
we’re flowing on and the ins and the outs my body has become a series of caves and the ocean licks at the curves and fills me all up to wash me out and kiss me on the nose and tell us all we are brave
but sometimes it’s hard to see when it’s so empty and the noise of the waves dashes us against the crystal pointed rocks where we’re snagged and torn like corners of cloth , but the flesh of our bodies will not lay there and rot
we’re to be eaten by some other creature. We’re to be devoured like we imbibe others.
And this is the way of this place.

So -  what’s the rush?

The seed senses
A moment where the clouds turn right angles and the ocean turns herself into a bath tub
After the moon runs her cycles all in one night the systems reorganize themselves
And we are swung, eyes grasping just barely at the vastness of this eloquent dance
under the pull of a surrender

owning the ludicrous living.
observer
come , gather at this silence
flow slowly as this meanders
full moon love is delicate tender

ask , receive , thank , release
rinse, imbibe ,  rest ,
release
receive

laugh
shake
shake
laugh

give, allow
be.

we sang a song the 3 of us, 3
generations dancing om
and ahum to the sound of a singing bowl ring ring ring as we
welcomed the sun
up up up thru clouds etched supernatural perpetual hues of pink sung
sung sung back to us and beneath our toes inside our hearts earth vibrates when we remember why we are here,
and then live from this place