Absolvi*


I will swallow whole; the heads, the tails and guts of all offenses committed upon me and those committed upon others, by me.

I will absorb the energy of these dark offenses ~ the poison, the pain, the betrayal, the shame, the hurt, the fury, the fear, the indifference.

I will gather heavy chains that I forged in order to carry dark offenses with me and I will free myself and all the others I had shackled to them.

I will allow those offenses, those dark pages of my story, their rightful place in my history.

I will build each offense their own tomb in my bones and marrow. Every last weighty moment lived, will have its own burial site and marker.

I will lay flowers and walk away ~ head high ~ eyes clear ~ heart open.

I will allow them to rest in peace and stop dragging what has already been written to clean pages.

I will use clean pages for new parables and legends.

I will put away the widow's blacks and veil and wholly reconnect with the living, mindful of my many blessings and my need to bless.

I will remind myself daily of the importance of remaining curious and alive to reason and choice with complete focus of head, heart, body and soul.

I will enter into a new and untouched land~ My own "State" of grace ~

And I will reign sovereign over my own life with soft step, shrewd eye, love and reverence.

It is so

Devastated was the word.  Yes, it fit.

The night before found her restless and fitful,  up and down, churning, besieged with scattered thoughts. Noisy chattering, fragmented bits of fear, hurt, shame, regret, disappointment and judgement, all jostling with one another, all scrabbling like jackals to be the first to gnaw on her bones.

Why was she carrying the full burden of shame? Had he not shown his flaws?

But as the indignation rose,  the words of Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn  wept through like an Artesian wellspring of wisdom reminding, "But the line dividing good and evil cuts through the heart of every human being. And who is willing to destroy a piece of his own heart?"

"WAIT JUST ONE MINUTE HERE, AL!" she protested.
crickets
"Oh no!" says she to herself,  as she dusted off her Ouija board, "You will come back here!"  

Nervous fingers and shaky vocal chords work together in a synchronized effort to pull him away from his glass of fermented potato and there he was, a bearded wild haired man with an intense stare that left her wriggling under her skin. But she was on a mission and she would not be deterred.

Clearing her throat, she began, "Mr. Solzhenitsyn ---"
Aleksandr raised his hand up  in a gesture to stop her
His heavily accented English softly penetrated the air.
"Pебенок, tell me, what do you need?"
"I need to understand."
"Tell me why." he pressed.

"Why?"  She forced her words past the hurt that sat lumped in her throat,"I'm trying to make sense of betrayal. How can people insist they truly love even after lies have been uncovered?"
"Tell me Кэтрин, would you agree that morality can often be found to be at odds with passion and desire?"

She nodded.
He continued, "And that good intentions are often found to be at odds with unconscious motivations?"
"Yes." she whispered

Aleksandr sat thoughtful for a moment, then gently and softly spoke. "You understand Кэтрин, your problem is, you want too much from understanding. It cannot turn shadow into light and it cannot right wrongs. So, no Pебенок, you are not in need of understanding. What you need is to accept that a thing is what it is."

He drew on his pipe and smiled tenderly. 
 "And you need to make a decision.
You must decide if your wounds have made you more ... or have made you less."

At dawn’s rising
Soul stirs  
It travels the expanse of body
Lighting fires
Whispering delicious words to inspire  
Making  flames leap higher
So high and hot
As breath leaves lungs and lips
The smoke of breath
Hits the air

Silky and alive

Awakened limbs undulating
Find freedom from cover
Feet hit the floor
Body rises
Hips sway with purpose
And with every stride
You heat the air
And claim it with your scent
You own this space

Alive by God!

Alive!

The drip was constant, a metronome measuring out time.
Bleary eyed, spirit bruised from another all-night argument
She had sought solace in the forest and the rain.

Perched on a rock, surrounded by the dichotomy of nature - Stability and chaos
Indiscriminate raindrops creating the rhythmic beading of water
She reflected upon her own duality

The steady beat of water had etched a small rivulet
Upon which a poplar seed was now travelling
On a journey to create new life in a barren place.

She wondered if all "constants" do the same
Create paths that can be used for the good

The thought brought with it a measure of comfort.

The Queen of Hearts
Tired of simply baking tarts

Decided "Inner Revolution"
Would be the phrase of the day

She summoned her court and her Knave and King
Stating "Your Queen has something not lovely but unruly to say"

You can imagine, I am sure, how the very notion of such a thing
Caused quite a stir and they all came running, dropping everything

"Please join me in my revolt against usual and everyday
Instead think farther than castle doors; and Advance! Adventure! Play!

Let us meet new folks in the world's other places
Let us dance to the rhythm of their language
The beauty of their faces

Let us do it with the eagerness
And the purpose we hold inside
Let us do it with reverence, curiosity and pride

Let us open our eyes and our hearts and explore
Let us stretch and expand and
Become so much more"

This morning he leaned in
And stole a kiss from my sleepy lips
I looked up into warm brown eyes
And I saw God visiting there

Smiling
Loving
Seeking

So I kissed him
And discovered that he also
Had a pocket full of lightening
Oh my ...

“Advance!” I shouted
That **** monkey wouldn’t budge, not even to look me in the eye

“Insolent decrepit brat!Advance!”

Still that monkey did nothing

“Advance, I say! Do you hear me? Advance!”

“No.” said the monkey

“No?” I asked incredulously

“No.”

“And why not?” I demanded

“Because” said the monkey “you did not say please.”

As light begins to embrace darkness,
Dawn steals a kiss from the East

Woman, her skin parched and thirsty,
Calls out to her feet.
"Take us to the Apple Orchard.
There you can ~ dance upon the dew~

Perhaps, not as lofty a quest, as the ~ walk upon the water ~
But the ordinary is miraculous also, is it not?"

With great lust, amused and rowdy feet answer the call
And woman is caught up in a moment.

Her fevered lips press against delicate blossoms
And as she drinks the delicate perfumed elixir
Memories of worms once found ~ drown upon the dew~

At touch

Backs arch
Atoms flare

Limbs unravel
Eyes reveal

Lips like pink petals open
Mouths filled to overflowing

Still  there is no sound
Other than their uneven breathing

Moments that affect us so deeply we are moved beyond words

An old black crow sitting on my tree
Squawks "Hello" each morning to me
Inquiring if I had a good night
Did I rest well? Did I sleep tight?

Well ain't it funny how an old black crow
Can care with a depth that you'll never know
Ain't it funny how an old black bird
Can say so much without saying a word to me


And oooooh isn't it magick, how that old Mister crow seems to notice whenever I'm blue
And oooooh isn't it tragick, how I let myself fall for a cold hearted lover like you.


Well that old black crow, he cares more than you
You know it's true. I never hear from you
I know he'd buy me a ring
And slip it on my finger, with his shiny black wing

Well ain't it funny how an old black crow
Can care with a depth that you'll never know
Aint it funny how an old black bird
Can say so much without saying a word to me

That old black crow sittin' on my tree
Squawks "Hey baby, won't you marry me?
Your old man don't know what he had
Cause I'm telling you baby, you ain't half bad!"

**Well ain't it funny how an old black crow
Can care with a depth that you'll never know
Aint it funny how an old black bird
Can say so much without saying a word to me

Tired of day to day insanity

And of settling for living a life by default

A bruised heart digs its way out of human made boundaries

Then sets out

On a determined and uncompromising sojourn of reclamation.

Along the heart's travels, it meets up with a rusty magpie

With a liking for chalky ***** and waltzing

A wire haired pointer with a predisposition for friskiness and extra-marital

And a soft spoken Spanish guitar
With strings strung to tightly with the weight of deep secret longings

And Never Should have been made promises that seemed always in need of repair.

Unaware why their lives have merged at this time

The unlikely quartet move forward with the shadow of certainty always

Just two steps behind them

And perhaps that's as it should be

Harvesting the past
Examining every chunk
Swallowing mudstone after mudstone
That compete to be the first
To weigh down a hungry belly
But they hold no threat
For a belly on fire
1300 degrees fahrenheit
And RISING

I have closed my eyes
And gulped LIFE down whole
Heads, tails
And all the innards
So you are in my wilderness now
~ Juicy red cell upon cell ~
All containing history, geography, chemistry, language
And story

But we are all more than our stories
Aren't we
So much more
This is just the beginning

Come.

Come little butterfly
Come dance with me

Flutter your wings
Stir the air I breathe
Breathe your sweet breath upon me

Bewitch my captivated heart
With your delicate rhythms

Come little butterfly
I await your arrival

Take hold of my finger
In your tiny grasp
Lead me dancing into your world, the homeland of your heart

Come little butterfly
Come dance with me ...

An early riser, I usually great the day before the dawn

This day was no different and my routine treated me to a delicious quietness and a gorgeous view of Luna, soft and glowing.  In that moment I could easily fathom how the ancient Egyptians envisioned our Earth as an egg watched over at night by the moon, seen as a great white bird.
A mother goose watching over her egg.

I felt small but also loved, protected and connected to something  much larger. I thought about how all our stories are small fragments of the whole that is Creation's story. This made my mind race with delight.
Mental images and words flooded me.

I have always loved imagery and symbolism. I have no idea why it fascinates me, it just always has. So, instantly my mind starts to symbolically merge form with words and I think of all the people I have encountered in my life's journey...

And I wonder what their bodies would look like if one were to map them.

The Physical. The Emotional. The Mental. The Spiritual.

Strengths and weaknesses
Struggles and ease
Fears and Bravery
Agonies and Joys

*What cartographic symbols would they choose to map their journeys and experiences?

No matter if our heads
Are tipped left or right
Or whether you’re examined
During the day or the night
There sits you, our dusty debris
Remnants of decisions made much to hastily

Consequential Residue

There you are but what to do?
Do we approach from the front?
Or approach from the rear?
But what if we capture you?
What then should we do?

Do you have a sense of humour?
Can we laugh you away?
Or are you pious and proper
And require that we pray?
Or do you require more effort than even of that
Of the continual sweeping of your creepage back under our mats

Should we bag and tag?
Or toss off the bridge?
Should we mount your head?
Or stick you to the door of our fridge?
It is just so very much to decide

**Whether to display ... or whether to hide

She was still trying to figure out  "expectation".

When getting up in the morning she expected things;  a floor under her feet,  loved ones looking relatively the same as they did the night before, the car starting, etc, etc, etc. And the fact they continued to happen encourages expectation.

Expectation has a dark side though, and she had been bitten by expectations she'd placed on others that had not been met,  and she'd experienced hurt and shame at the not being able to meet other's expectations of her and her own unrealistic expectations she placed upon herself and had been crushed under.

But she wondered, "What if expectations are direct natural by-products of our chosen daily routines? Simply those ways of being we all have, created from options presented and found, and from preferences and passions explored and simply require that we be mindful that we do not crush others or find ourselves crushed under the weight of the unrealized.

What if it's also consciously making the shift from impatiently waiting for the appearance of a Happily Ever After, to rolling up sleeves, digging in and getting busy with the messy process of creating her own Happiness After.

Prudent and gingerly is a careful way to spend one's day

Although it makes the passing of time move dreadfully slow

Gives too much time to notice hair dwindle and grey

And to have ninety nine years of that...oh please No

Taking care of our minds and bodies is a right thing to do

But seven days a week, that's a bit much to bear

We might take one day or even two

To rebel against the steady, our trials and cares


Dance these mornings on grape laden floors

A rose in hair and one between *******

To a Spanish guitar that makes spirits soar

With a love that knows its quest

Gobble up cake!  Eat with bare hands

Strut like a peacock in finery

Living spontaneously, every moment unplanned

For a day or two ~ limitless and free

From the perspective of a goddess,
love can be found everywhere
in people, in animals, in nature, in objects, and in moments.

And the Goddess of Love continues to bring the willing to love's banquet table
and her disciples continue to feast with odd and hungry hearts.

He is man

Sometimes soft
Sometimes hard

But always a man who walks like a lion
With generosity of Spirit, lust of  body and fire in his heart.

He hunts with a clever and ambitious mind
For his seed and dreams demand to be sown

So many curious parts, that make up the fullness of a man
Beginnings. Middles. Endings.

Intricate
Fascinating
Perplexing
Sometimes Vexing

But he is made in the image of creation
And there is always beauty in his order and in his chaos

He is man

He told me I could search the world over and I would never find anything anywhere quite like him

I'm a Leo  

So I took that as a challenge and headed out on a journey

I returned to his door two and a half years later triumphant

When he opened his door I stated with pride "I did it!"  

"Prove it." he demanded quietly leaning against his door frame, looking, both intrigued and unconvinced.

I took off my back pack, set it on the step, reached in, carefully withdrew a mason jar and passed it to him.

"What's this?" he asked

"You."

"It's an empty mason jar."

"It's not at all empty. It's filled to the brim with all the stuff you're made of."

"Oh? What kind of stuff?"

" Inside that bottle is the magic of a rainbow I found in Greenland, star light I found in the North West Territories, wind from each of the four corners, air that's been caressed by butterfly wings from St. Lucia, sun beams from Samoa, the innocence of a newborn from Uruguay, the passion of a gypsy from Romania, the heat of a thunder bolt from South Carolina, the fragrance of the first bloom of summer from England, the poetic joy of Ireland, and one salty tear of a mermaid from Fiji.  You."  I said again triumphantly

"All that's in here, eh?"

I nodded.

"Well, you must be tired, being right can be exhausting." he said with a grin as he reached out for my hand

"It is and I am." I admitted placing my hand in his

"Would you like to come in?"

" Yes, I would like to come in. I'd like that very much."

Hissing Cat! Why does your back rise up and chaff the sky?

This "ready to rise up and claw" attitude deprives you as much as it protects you.

Are you that fragile?

Has the creator not given you choice? Inspiration? Intellect?
Yes?!
Then why are you so hesitant to use them?

Is your life so right? So perfect? So full?
You have no need for the joy of expansion?

I wonder...
What if your fear, Kitty Cat, is not of the unknown?

But of the known.

We have drank in indifferent and contemptuous looks.  
And be they assuming or aloof,
Or be they from those we love and know or from those we admire and want in our lives...

Who ever they come from,  they leave a bitter taste.  

Yes, it's hard not to care or let it affect you but this is your life Catherine Ann.
Your one wild and precious life.

God gave you the heart of an Adventurer!
An Explorer!

So do it!

And trust in the Creator
And trust in you
And trust that Love will always find you no matter where you find yourself.

I am alive when you touch me, for I touch you

As you know me, I know you

Watch me as I lean into or away from

One element, open to another; who in turn leans into

Or veers from my earthy scent and rough caress



We all are seeking

Yearning to explore, be explored

To understand, to be understood

To penetrate, root into and connect with life

Stretching limbs and roots into the unknown

To touch and to know we are alive


There is roughness

That is part of truth

A toughness that comes with survival

Traces are left behind when we expand into each other's worlds

We are affected by all who come to give, who come to take

Bent branches, faded foliage, scarred skin

Do these markings make us less or more

When I walk down to the shore and it rises to greet me

I get caught up in those moments
Those moments when we both grow in size and grandeur
Just from the knowing of one another

The recognition
The reclaiming
The owning

And as I undress and expose hidden places
It crashes at my feet and reveals undercurrent treasures

Turbulent Waters

Swirling round my feet
Tugging me out further

Into your deep ... into your deep

A kiss is what I long for

But I choke on salty air
And those waters keep pulling
Do I turn or do I dare

Two phrases that have power to shut me down

Are One day we will and Someday we will.

Early on, life taught me One day and Someday

Rarely, if ever come.

So in loving me
If you choose to love me

*Let us share with each other the gifts and delights of today
And let One day and Someday
Be what they shall be.

I believe in you and must not try to tame you

I am learning that it is enough just to sit with and lie with

That it is enough just to listen to words being softly strung together

Rhythmic sounds conceived in mind, of heart and soul

Giving birth to desires and prayers

Lay your head on my lap my love

Loosen the restraints of the day

Unravel and find your rest in me

Drink deeply of my devotion

From the wellspring of my openness




I am in awe of your beauty and must not try to claim you

I am learning that it is enough to trust the nature of man and woman and allow

My fingers the freedom to travel, to dance, to trace and to follow

Your curves and caverns, seeking warmth, pulse of body and wilderness

Swallowing love's sweetness whole

Lay your head on my lap my love

We sit poised with pen over you

So much to divulge ... explain ... confess

But the sight and smell of your brightness, your freshness causes us to hesitate

It's not your fault that you fill our hearts with hope and sadness

At the sight of you, we are filled with the longing

To know the opportunity of having once again, a clean page spread before us

A new path eager for our markings to meander over it

Ones that are not weighted down so heavily

As to smear and tear with a past that bogs down and trips up


But you know there is no such possibility

You know there is no future where the past does not make itself welcome


And still you lie there spread open before our disquiet

Silent in your trust and in your vulnerability

We marvel at your courage and wonder if we could ever be so noble

Oh Love ...

What you do to us!

How the sight, sound, smell and touch of you
Make the tide within our hearts rise and swell.

Ohhhhh and that rush of delicious heat!

That envelops a body from tip to tip
And makes knees go weak.

Oh Love ...

Our eyes overflow with your delights!

We are rendered both alert and powerless.
Submerged in a flood of feeling.

Swallowed by the current ...