A Late night saxophone wizard has set up shop on the lonely streets. A night rider, he travels by bike. Composed of Mysterious magic with a red velvety soul.
He exudes juicy music like milky ways swirling into this wilted night. Reviving the hearts of parched souls of these desolate streets. He calls to flaming spirits long after the midnight hour.
The Bellows of smooth jazz catch my ear and I'm sparked alive.
Mischievously young
and free
with nowhere to be.

And sometimes I wonder
What the ocean feels
When the snow has melted
Into the rivers which flow freely
Back to the ocean,
And if she greets them
Like the heart of a greiving parent
Holding their child for the first time
sinse many moons had passed.

And sometimes I wonder
if this is why the river sings
So beautifully on this journey home,
A silent knowing, a hope filled prayer.

Sometimes I wonder about how the ocean gives her love and life to help birth the rain and snow so the river may flow.

And sometimes I wonder
If my ancestors have touched this same water, how particles filled with ancient tales have formed clouds which burst over and over, each drop of rain carrying it's own unique story.

And sometimes I wonder about how many waters have been mixed over time and
how many Oceans have met.

This is the life blood which ties us together.

Sometimes I wonder what it means
To be woven with the same rhythms as the rhythms of this Earth.

And sometimes I wonder about
My own life and the changing tides,
how we give pieces of ourselves away, like how mothers give themselves to their children
And trust like the ocean.

I find my peace in the ocean
Though why would one choose to find their peace
In something that's changes so much
Tumultuous waves, rocky shorelines, calm stillness
Sunset serenity
Yet it is these changes that I find my peace in.

There are times
I like to go out in the night
When its rainy and the wind howls through the trees
Like claws reaching outwards to catch presence, the wind showing me the steadyness of my womb.
This interesting confluence of emotions which lingers on my breath and pulls itself from my bones to be seen by the grace of night.

When I go out,
I like to let my bare skin touch the Earth,
So I may feel what cold feels like,
So I may feel what I don't always feel,
So I may bring my presence to this other kind of medicine.

I like
To feel what the night feels and
To feel my own trust
In the sturdiness of the trees around me as they are rocked by the wind and rain.
To trust I am safe here even when trees shake, to trust I am held here, I accept all here.

I like
to feel what it feels like when I allow myself to sink in deeper.

There are times I go out alone
Into the night when It's stormy outside
And not a soul whispers
Except for the sound of steady earth hymns softly singing.
My hair and my body, my heart and my soul are free here.

I find myself here time and time again
Because I like to feel this place of discomfort and comfort, of familiarity.

I like
To listen to the gentle silence
Found within the echoes of the murky night.
Because I like to feel
Even the grief
Of this earth.
I like to go out alone under this dark dripping sky which becomes a blanket, lay in this rich forest canopy and I become a child unto this land.

I find myself here time and time again,
Called over and over,
But I know just why.
It is so I may
feel this
Intimacy which I feel nowhere else
It's so I may feel what it feels like when
my heart beat is
Beating alongside
The beat of this earth
and
When our lungs are breathing
The same breath of life.

There's something so special
Within those who devote themselves to dance.

Not the form, the practice, the 1-2-3 step to the side type of dance but rather the dance being spirit.

Those who leap to the moon and sing to God with every twist of their pirouette type of dance.

The grace and surrender as spirit cries through flesh type of dance.
The dance that needs no music because the rhythm beats on within
type of dance.

The silence of our bodies reverberating off of hardwood floors, our pulsating breath breaking the air around us
type of dance.

The dance which is a leap of faith as we throw out hearts forward, cast our egos aside and dance...truly dance type of dance.

There's something so special about dancing
When we dance for freedom.

I get scared
Hoping I'm making the right choices, hoping that my intentions are coming from the truest place within,
Hoping that my heart is guiding me to the medicine I need,
hoping I will stay protected on this path, hoping the foundations I build with each breath are sturdy ones which will flourish into fine forests one day.

I'm sure you are just as scared, maybe for different reasons and maybe you have different hope's in your heart.

But I know your scared too,
together we hide in this fear.

And in fear illusions form easily,
We trick ourselves into believing in these fears, fears like flickers of fire flashing ferociously. Deception.
We feed them with our doubts for the dream seems too scary, too surreal, too un-attainable. The fears become fed, the fears become real, and so the trust vanishes and the fears dance before us. Challenge us.

I know there is an eye beyond the fears. The eye of observation patiently waiting for loves return.

Yet here I am again,
afraid to come out of shells for the world can be bitter and once one tastes that sour milk it is difficult to open a palm to receive more of the unknown.

Here I am afraid to hold hands,
Afraid to walk into what we both know is possible,
A whole galaxy of dreams exists
yet somehow we hinder ourselves at the base of the daring cliff.

For the dream seems almost too real.

Yet I have a desire
Which runs so true
Like the river of my heart beating through
And I want to breathe through this fear and listen to my river,
I want
To trust my hand in yours.

To trust that we can breathe through the tough times together,
And trust that this leap
Will support us,
That the Angel's have been listening, that a lifetime of prayers has been
just waiting
For us
To say yes,
To choose love.

With a fertile heart
Open like a lotus flower
upon your alter,
I'd like to
Walk with your hand
and
To say yes to love
To say yes to you
To say yes to the unknown
To trust I am exactly where I need to be
And to hope
That somewhere the Angel's
Have heard my yes and
Are smiling!

Giving your heart back to yourself
Isn't what one would expect,

Like a sea of flying butterflies, a bright cheery marriage to oneself celebrated with wine and fancy horodeurves.

It isn't
Fireworks and explosive love.

Giving your heart back to yourself after having given it away to the sea of the wild stormy world
Is a slow journey,
It is like watching one raindrop
Slide down the car door window
As You the passenger wait for something yet are found here
amongst the steady presence beating.

Giving your heart back
Is holding yourself unable to sleep at night, it is longing for your own arms, longing for your own kiss, nothing more intimate than this yet being unable to grasp the fullness, the wholeness.

Giving your heart back
is missing your family
It is wishing you listened when you felt something wasn't right.

It is missing your 5yr old self
It is pain
It is greiving

Giving your heart back to yourself is
Deep breaths and long stretches of silence.
It is comfort and desolate bike rides at sunset.
It is green and fertile,
It is warmth and big mugs of tea.
It is
Slow and delicious
like melting chocolate.
It is patience
And acceptance.
It is aching and laughter.
It is messy crying.
It is innocence
And maturity.

Giving your heart back to where it belongs is not fireworks, it is not a loud display of affection,
It is a delicate dance
Of dedication.

Giving your heart back to yourself
Is the long winded path you know you must take
And take alone,
it is the bow of commitment and the sigh of release.

Giving your heart back
To yourself
Is
The steady rythm that follows and hums with you gently
On this walk,
As you hold yourself
And slowly make your way home.

Giving your heart back to yourself
Is realizing
All of the scattered pieces
Have been in you all along.