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SCK Mar 2016
the elevator rising up,
ocean waves infinitesimally high,
the bumble-y box that bounces me,
from side to side,
shaking me alive,
taking me on the long way up,
for life’s shaky ride.

up,
up,
and up,
violently side to side,
feels like certain suicide.

floors fly by,
numbers a-blur,
uncertainty, insanity,
no gravity.

atop the ship,
where luxury abides,
a sea of calm,
a vast blue sky.

Lana Maree Haas
~3/06/2016
SCK Mar 2016
when I am not with my soul,
I’ve lost my footing,
I don’t know where to go.

sure the foot steps,
one in front of the other,
the eyes blink in usual time,
but heart knows,
and so does mind.

when I am not with my soul,
I miss the eternal me,

-no time or space,
just the real reality.
the only thing worthy,
the only thing I want to be.

~Lana Maree Haas
© 2/26/2016
SCK Mar 2016
it will not be grey,
this cloudy day.
on a day like today,
the slow moving rocks,
like bones,
under Mother’s soft Earth,
hold me like this,
in such a warm
and cradling way.

she shifts,
and I am not alone.
I decide it this way.

she is solid,
holding me holy,
holding me still.
while fingers give,
an uplifting sifting,
of all of the broken pieces,
all of the spent parts,
as they die descending,
drifting, flying into a long slow fall,
arms wide open,
the small dreams,
the small hoping,
drop down into Mother’s heart
-her fiery, molten,
consuming core.

here transformed,
here the old ways,
exist no more.
they will become stories
we learn to tell.
-and it will be golden,
this golden day,
I will decide it this way.

here heaven pours on us,
her illuminating stardust.
inevitably it will reach us,
in the waiting tender grass,
blowing like wind sent by Tara’s unseen breath,
softening like silk on my radiant glistening face,
while my songs and my body turn into,
a fluid beauty,
of heaven’s twirling trance.

in this place,
I can hear the song I’ve always heard.
I recognize the tune
as one I knew,
when I fell into skies,
drenched in ocean's blue,
and I came here,
to be with you,
in this glorious play,
in these unforgettable days.
I decide it this way.

you, a lion’s God,
with a fierce and grave victory,
learn on your own terms,
lean on your own dreams,
you decide it this way.

and I,
with my own heart,
holding it tight,
for the next part,
in my own play,
I am a beloved child of my Mother,
I decide it this way.

~Lana Maree Haas
SCK Mar 2016
lotus in my hand,
alive and full of color,
smell the lovers dance.
SCK Mar 2016
red wind whips and flies,
captivates my open eyes,
soft the petals rise.

~Lana Maree Haas
SCK Mar 2016
the roaring wind whistles a polar me,
opposing freely,
a hushful respite,
inside today,
silent me.

sitting in dreams,
stuck in sleeping bags,
the night before,
before the morning snagged,
my lucid want,
my lucid haunt.

outside, the wind and sun,
blow fiercely through,
the dead dried leaves,
the dusty dung,
brown, unsung,
chaos flying,
above the roof,
around the fence,
at pasture’s hooves,
one last breath spent.

again here lie,
the dreams that drift,
the dreams that die,
sounding out February's cry,
singing her last goodbye.

while the trance settles,
and untangles,
and I, sitting quiet,
witnessing the bendy brambles.

~Lana Maree Haas
SCK Mar 2016
lotus rising in my hands,
heat that heals the broken man.
clocks with crooked arms that span,
lands that hold the emerald pain.

inside her ribcage,
beneath her hide,
snow melts,
rivers grow,
rushing and raging,
into everything we know.

washing a furrowed countenance,
into crumbled crystal and sea glass sand,
where castles rise and fall,
waxing and waning,
endless dying,
endless rebirth,
rising and falling,
again and again.

~Lana Maree Haas
SCK Mar 2016
I’ve been naive,
I’ve let you pretend to leave.

your footprints on my back,
your hands around my neck.
insidious, nagging, affection-less,
touch-craving little me.

I’ve been worn down,
pierced in private longings,
secret places,
there inside my deepest heart,
my deepest holding,
my most sacred cradling places.

how many times?
two times two,
time tables,
turning around back to you
will I begin to see?
will I be able
to reconcile with me?
to ward off lonely lagging leeches
like you,
like feathers drifting by
in a dusty, sticky sky.

naivety was my gravity,
not knowing,
-my sanity.

now I ask,
in full sunlight,
blue sky as my witness,
which is a graver danger?
you no longer hold
the dagger.

and still I walk trembling in my feet
one step:
steadying in defiant dignity,
two steps:
an angel’s voice to heal me.

I can hold up the glass,
see foreground,
see the past,
all’s perspective,
all is what I decide now,
what I ask,
what I intend and what I allow.

~Lana Maree Haas

— The End —