When I tell my story I want it to be beautiful.
I want people to smile, or cry.
When I tell my story I want to weave in all of life’s intricacies. I want to include each moment building up to one another.
When I tell my story I want to cherish the words from within me, to let the words delicately dance over my heart before they escape my petal lips, I want to hold the words one more time to my earthen chest, like a warm towel, freshly dried, like a baby at my breast,
I want one last time holding onto myself, my words.
One last time before I release my weaving's.
Before crest fallen mountain tops, before ravens and eagles, before lucid dreams, and crinkled papers, I want to remember the gentle touch, the soft warmth gliding over me, falling off of the words,
to remember the imprint on my heart, not the words but the feelings.

Once I tell my story, like an old grandmother around a fire, singing out the soul’s song, tapping out the rhythms with the heel of aged shoes,
once I tell my sacred blessings, tell of how the moons tide washed me, rippled blood into my pores, across sands my feet walked deserts, how I was once the suns child and once the moons, now a child of the earth, the universe.
Once I spit out the words, once I sing and cry them out, once I escape my body and these memories holding me here, once all of that is told, is when I’ll be free. it will be at the hour the sun hits the horizon, when the fire truly blazes before it dies, it will be that moment, precious sacred airs,
tears and rips from our eyes water
because life is so beautiful,
simple but diffcult
it is then
that I’ll be free.

I've always liked the quiet woman
although I may be loud and expressive
in my heart I am one with those silent woman
I like the dark mystery woven into the fibres of soul
that outstretch in a quick glimpse
when we make eye contact
I respect the quiet woman
for it seems she needs no company
she knows the world
and rides it like an oyster on a ship
she rides it like a night queen in a long black cape
trotting over stormy moon mountains

"Hey you,"
"I'm listening," she says,
but I'm not sure
she is me
my voice
so many times of uncertainty
trying to give and give
but only being taken from
trying to take
but no receiving
why the silence
why cant I just answer the questions
why can't i laugh with the others
lost by my maturity or immaturity
rather run  away with children
or talk with the adults
of meaning
talk with the adults who have walked a ways on this earth
and have figured at least something out
instead of stuck in some turmoio of one tracked minds
way of continuessly spinning but never evolving
hey she tells me
You are better
you know more
but then something else clouds it all
i take an extra sip
skip a little to catch up to the moving crowd
try to laugh a little harder
Just act
casually, comfortably,
cool
hey the voice tells me, its not that your too mature and boring or too immature and incapable
you are your own classification
or rather no classification
simply you, me, us.
And,
the thing is,
its that theirs plenty of fish
and a vast ocean to swim
through reefs and corals
and sometimes the muddy sand at the bottom
but it is your heart she says
it is our heart
we must follow it
as much as a part of us would like to take one more sip
and flip our hair
and be the center of the group instead of
Always Stumbling a little to catch up
and instead of walking a little farher and farther behind
under the orange light
While the laughter of them journeys on
and your footsteps get louder and louder until it echoes in silence
as much as we'd like she says
its not what we'd truly like
hold the heart and skip don't stumble
Skip to catch up but dont just stop once you hit the centre
keep skipping
skipping
Away into the sun♡

Fear is like a ****... It always finds its way back. However, dandelion is considered a **** although it has many medicinal properties, fear is of the same nature. Im not saying hold onto fear but rather learn from it and what it has come to teach. Reach to the root of it and then pluck it out to prevent it from returning as often. Many blessings to all

Grab my hand and just like a whisper
let us set our tracks in this young night,
let us walk upon the dusk filled streets, of men in sand stained shorts and woman in light dresses,on some summer evening.
When the air is warm and smug, pulls at our collars, sips down into the crevises of our skin, breezy enough to calm the reddened boils of the sun left behind on our flesh.
let us go, through crowded streets
let us take wrong turns and with no retreats,
Walk in a maze,
and for no other reason,
than our true youthful hearts
set ablaze
By long winding nights
of faces and colour.
Under glowing light,
Let us wonder, let us wander.
We'll sip from a fountain and we'll ponder
before making a descent
to somewhere.

Excuse my ignorance
or pardon me for my damns
for when I wrote that letter
your breath was still in my lungs
your kiss wound into my tongue
etched into my forefingers
your presence twirling around me like smoke
emasculating freedom of thought
taking over like a low swooping cloud
casting shadows upon thy back
And so when I said I love you
I was misguided
I mistook it for infatuation
like chocolate
pure bliss within the moment
love is not the paper
burning fast and bright for but a second
love is the one that lingers
love is like the hot coals
where a fire has burned
love makes people run
it made you run
for some reason it comes as a burden
to the heart
a heavy sinking anchor.
but to me love is not anything of that sort
it is light and free
it is a songbird
in the early hours

what you felt was fear,
that is the anchor,
now...
release...

I wrote you a poem
But you didn't undertand.
for each word means something to someone,
and you're just too different to know.
I wrote about the summer
the haze and the roads
when we walked through the sickle scented fields
row by row
when we held hands
and kept on doing so.
and I wrote about the fall
the autmun wind that blows
and the pumpkins and the warmth
within houses
row by row
and I wrote about the winter
when leaves still sparsley hang
from limp trees
that the wind hasn't blown away
left over from the autumn
when snow has yet to fall
but gloomily we wait,
outsise preparing,
outside,
our houses
row by row
sled in hand
waiting for something to either fall
or start to grow
and I would write about the Springtime
but you never lasted very long
because when I described the three others
you just turned and frowned
and told me that I was wrong.

When you get up and want to make the bed
when the voice from his head
is still humming in your ears
when your lulling
and dreaming
and being pulled softly by his touch
when your moaning and groaning
because you love him
much too much
And all these long winding echoes
of laughter so close
and so far
repeat in unison
over the spot in your heart
where he left that god awful scar.
And your speeding away
a million miles a minute,
your running
until you escape all the voices and noises
and you stop to catch your breath
and then the voices come back
you scream
you attack
you fall to your knees
beg them please
How did I get in this mess?
It's this empty chaos
this stupid game...
until you decide...
why refrain?
and so you sleep
and dream
and let it ALL stream
there's no denying the love
it just doesn't have to be
the way you make it seem
so you let yourself go,
you let him know,
you let it all flow
Attachment gone
Just love,
its simple enough
And now your jumping on pink skylines
and flying
a million miles
a minute
<3

This is not a time to celebrate,
although do reverberate
in the goodness of mother all around.
But this is not a time to celebrate for nothing,
so lost child find your feet upon the ground.

This is not a time for drop in and drop out
or a “yes please maam” to that sugar coat
worn upon the folds of this bittersweet reality.

This is not a time to deny the divinity
or to choose not to see
where our prayers and actions are called and needing.

This is...
a time
to listen to the ones who are bleeding,
who are pleading,
Their prayers out into the open,
like water from a vessel which has broken.

This is the time
to listen to the windy songs of spirit,
and the voices bare-***** howling,
and the belly's growling.

This is a time to know.

To know how to grow!

No more justifications or hesitancy
when the truth is blatantly
crying for us to hear!

This is not a time to laugh at or mock the greater flock!

This is a time to stand in unity,
to stand in solidarity.

This is a time to follow the pulse of our beating heart...

….....Stop to listen.......

This is a time to feel the earth
just like how she feels us.

This is a time to honor and respect.
This is a time to accept
the salt of our tears
and the strength in our rage.

This is the time,
So may we kneel with our knees upon her forest floor,

And in silence may we pray,
may we say
a final goodbye to this rotting cage.~~~~

When was the last time you let the grass tickle your toes or let the fragrance of a rose twirl softly up your nose?
When was the last time you stopped the "I know's" and truly surrendered to the mystery that grows, 
lusciously flows 
and goes 
trinkling back to home?
Do you dare to release your
hair to the bare 
winds that breeze on by? 
Do you dare, with quivered lips, 
scream out to that aching sky?
Do you dare to fill your heart to the brim with love so good it shakes,
as you unfold your lips 
and unfetter to the deepest most secret quips 
of being, 
left hidden in moments before the 
earth quakes?

Do you dare to care 
So much
So so so much
That all you can do is surrender?

Do you dare to point 
your fingers to that sky
and whisper just 
why why why
You do care
As the moon listens and
galaxies watch on 
by by by.

In the bluest truest stare
You whisper
I do dare
I do care
I do do Do
Dare
To touch the Sky to the Earth
The Earth to Sky
To rebirth
And shed
To awake the sleeping dead
To be a soul fulfiller
To be a long standing pillar
To be genuine, wise, and humbled in my knowing
To let myself be, breathe, feel, feed
The grass that is growing
To be blossomed like the fig that simply shares
Or the trumpet that expands outwards with its blares~~
I release from affairs of empty cares
I stand before the sky
Naked in my silence
I stand before the wind
And whisper....
Do you hear me mother?
Soft whispers of I do
I do I do I do
Its true...
....I do dare...

Here I am,
reading my horoscopes again,
as if some persons perspective on what
the night sky reveals would also glimmer a foreseeable forecast on my own future.

Here I am chasing answers again.

I am like an Owl in the jungle.
Mice are vagabonds, fitting in anywhere,
dispersing where the wind whispers and warm nooks ******,
but owls, owls are more silent, nocturnal creatures,
Grounded, mysterious and peaceful predators, only seemingly at home in certain landscapes.

I am not scared of wisdom,
like the kind that gleams bright in those eyes,
or the wisdom of Father Winter, as he blows a cheek full of air from the north.
I am scared of fire.
Fire like the flames of a panther, although secretly I long for that burn.
Love is hate and hate is love.
Burn Burn Burn.
Burning every love letter and lace slip
So I may equip
myself with myself
and not possessions of faded passions.

I am dancing alone in twilight, creating hot breaths and echoes, the sounds of feet pattering over the dew laden grass of this lonesome forest, I am dancing wildly so I may feel my own heart beat, so I may know that I am still alive.

Why am I reading my horoscope for answers when only I can give myself the peace to all those silent prayers?

I am not an Owl, nor a Panther,
I am like both,
I am a moon Halk,
who glides gracefully,
who flies fiercely.
Soaking in
ever-ascending valleys
and ridges.
Riding life,
with pulsating wings,
an in-borne beating rhythm.

Crisp night fall..
the Halk swoops low,
to fly high,
leaving a reflection in  the ice
as she summits.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>}}}}}--------------------------------------->>>>

I do wish to digress
from this chemical mess
that's taken hold of my sanity,
I've got an elevated gravity to spew out profanity,
I{m MAD at the cavity
that keeps the fear levels high and love levels low,
Needing to know dogma against dogma is just another battle,
so I sit on a rainbow saddle chasing sunsets with no purpose but to feel
Freedom
in my gut
to break away from the rut that keeps my ****
glued to the coach
How do I approach what I wish not to encroach?
Just trying to keep this boat afloat
Perhaps this is what it{s all about,
a divine plan to ruin sands let pain funnel through divine hands so that we learn once again what happens when we isolate ourselves from the truth of our hearts,
fallin apart, left in the burning embers,
a field of death because we failed to accept how easy it really is
or__
is this our chance...
to learn the souls dance
and rise up like the phoenix from the fire
wings fly up higher and higher
breaking away from unhealthy desire
We ARE
Earth Air Water Fire
I've got up from my bed, staring way too long at the ceiling, empty thoughts in my head, releasing attachments over words I once said
How do we resurrect from the death of a decaying society?
stop putting poisons in the sea,
listen to the birds and the bees~
We CAN do this
we are So Soo so
FREE
NOTHING
stopping me
as I open up to the divinity
Awake to the waking world
let spirit uncurl, unfurl, un-freaking-whirl
Hands in prayer, gratitude
to exude whatever I wish,
don{t worry mama, I follow the bliss
of my heart
I don{t know how, what, where or why
but I know when...
When??
This(!!!)
is the moment to start°°

Don’t ask me why
My eyes reflect the light
Turning blue to the sky
Or black to the night
Don’t ask me why
They reflect the forlorn
They dance they tingle they cry
They sleep they breathe they scorn
Sleep calls to them
It closes them
The morning rises with them
I awake
To the grey mirror
Its stingy ash shade
I blink and rustle
Adjust and open
And gaze
My eyes
Have seen
All I have seen
They are not grey
Like the icy winds
They are not blue like the calm sky in a summer’s day
They are not orange like fires my spirit has danced too
They are not deep like the vast oceans
They are not floating like the soft heavens
They do not glimmer
They do not shine
Here in this dull bathroom
But when I am alive
So are they
Except here
In this dull bathroom
With its faded walls
And
Faded mirror
My eyes are green

Couldn't think straight on my lunch break had to filtrate some wordhop.. Spiritual lessons in a coffee shop...

I want the world to wake up and yet I respond hastily to a customer,
hiding in make up,
& in a scrambled shake up..
my souls ventialtion,
a void of frustration
spews out in a compilation
Of "medium or dark roast?"
"Yo!"
I tell myself,
"Stand back, humble, make a toast to the path of the most, don't be a ghost that boasts"
So I choose to send her
blessings on her way,
avoid the sway
into mass fear,
help her
and I
to know why
we're here,

Fear dissapear

I will not respond in anger, hate or disgust
to triple frappucino-three-papercups-for-one drink society
No
I will rise through this cosmic dust
To elucidate my hearts trust
That this 9-5 rust
Will fade in a gust!

I will pray
For a world where we can be the preachers of the practice
Express our full bliss
Where we wont
Fade into the abyss...

I'm Not going to Miss
My life
Standing back
Watching behind glass,
Stooped away in fright

NO!

I'm going to feel my might
Like the night
Sky
Let it Cry
Throughout cackly veins
Wipe away
electric shasms
of pain
I will send her  
Love
On her way..

Sorry I got caught in a sway

I ask again,
Feelin that zen,
A true smile then,
"Would you like medium or dark roast?
Because
I give a toast
to the path
with the most"
My blessings to you to find ways
To live most true
And Now...
to start a new
*** of brew..
Oh universe :)
¡¡Thank You!!

I want to wither in delight,
to moan and wriggle.
to fully emerge myself into this energy
to lose control to passion
to let that steamy,
pink,
red,
orange ,
delight fill me beyond my limit
To be like a fig, wet and surrendered.

Lets create a hot juicy mess,
lets feel our static skin connecting
like electric currents
Passionate heavy gasps
open mouths
beyond amazement
in a galaxy of awe that this much pleasure can exist
Tingles of teasing light caresses
anticipation tipping us to the tip
to the tip

              ......tip..
..................................­.....tip................

                  .....................­.................................................................­..................tip

And then boom

our bodies release
they shake
they cry
they scream

they release

All is black
We are in the galaxy...

and then we awaken again

Awaken as pure soft divine light :)

We dove into the wide deep Ocean,
And our bodies we smothered with blue,
For its what we were told
we had to do.

So we bathed in an endless bathtub of pigmented royal blue,
For its what we were told we had to do.
What we had to do.

We stood like mighty mountains of granite and stone,
We bowed in acceptance,
letting Blue Sink in further,
Further she gripped to our bone.

We listened as this indigo mystery whispered tales told in ancient tongues,
And we breathed her in like the crisp night sky as she slowly filled the hollowness of our lungs.

Diligently we dressed in her black velvet,
Worn smoothly upon our skin.
She brought us the love we longed for,
And So we let her in.

She wrapped all around us,
Gently rocking from side to side.
She showed us the big white moon,
And how to use the darkest forest as our guide.

And we fell ever more into her waters
And we fell ever more unto her song.
The Salty Ocean pulled us into her waves, and oh how we rode along.

Blue danced from our souls,
She danced from our fingertips,
She howled in growls,
And kissed the echoing prayers
Dripping from our lips.

Blue left us in madness clawing at whitened walls,
seeking her truth beyond the rises and far beyond the falls.

We crashed and we cried
How tightly she had tied,
Her laced clutches pried,
To escape; we tried,
But the Ocean goddess follows her own flow
And it is up to us to grow.

Please, says the cries,
Reveal hope in our eyes,
Rain blessings from the skies,
Lift us from the lies.

So staggering footstep by footstep
We learned how to walk on water,
And we churned with the deepest secret dance of the Earth and
Oceans daughter.

~~~~~\~~~~~}}}}}}}}}~~~~☆~~~~\\~~

Tides may change and years, they pass,
yet the silver shadows may still glimmer within the glass.

And I wear this cloaks chill
of blue still,
maybe I always will,
For it is one which I'll never know how to untie.

Though blue taught me not
to untie;
She taught me how
even on Winters frozen winds
we may catch with capes the icy breeze and set out to fly!~

I wish to do Pirouettes
in my bedroom
Listening loudly to Enya

I want to tumble straight forward
To the floor

To release my body to all the empty spaces before me
Just waiting to be filled
With rythmic movement
Tap-tipping motion

To trust the air,
The wisps and whispers
To guide me
To where I need to go.

I want to dance
My heart out,
Alone at midnight,
Just me, the moon,
a whole galaxy of stars
And a distant cities skyline

I want to revel in the gushing awe sensations
Like a child building mud castles
With ***** hands

Faster, foot steps, twirling round and round,
Leaping, tumbling, diving, zig-zagging,
Letting the pulse of the music, the pulse of my lungs take me away,

To dance
And dance,
Until I too,
am a whisper
Until I too,
Am the wind.

I want to breathe
In this cool night air
All that I can
To be completely still,
To be simply mystified
By this beautiful magic
Of life in all its entirety...~~

Love is Fire
entrancing, Freeeeeee, WILD, Courageous
The dance of Passion blazing upwards
into the night
the
Smoldering Eyes
Magnificently Beam Bright

Love is Fire
but not just the flame,
Love is the wood,
to which makes the fire glow,
the burning pillars are
devoted walls to this holy temple
steadfast and strong
makes love so

Love is Fire,
but not just the burning,
Love is the glow of the embers.
When time has faded like a setting sun and
wrinkles mark themselves boldly upon this face,
what is left of us but the comforting glow of embers,
deep within our hearts?

Love is Fire,
but not just the flame,
not just the fuel which feeds the fire,
not just the embers glowing,
Love is the ashes.
Ashes immemorial, ashes which speak to the very same stardust of which our bones are comprised.
Love is Fire,
but not just the flame, nor the fuel, nor the remnant coals, nor is it the ashes,
Love is the dust.
The dust from which the ashes transform into.
This dust scatters freely to the wind,
ageless yet imbued with memories.
This ancient dust carries song of the heart in the wind,
Love is Fire, but not just the flame.

May you return home
To this beating heart

Like a bird at dusk,
Retreating softly.

Return
To the place
Where flesh intersects breath,
remember this
taste of heaven,
The holy matrimony
Between spirit
and body.

May you return home
to this divinity,
Where blood meets bone,
Where
the symphony of sound and colour,
Sparks aliveness in every cell
and each
little
movement you make.

May you return home
To this tender beating heart,
To the centre
Where the
Earth washes over you
And the Sky holds you
And all your prayers.

May you return home
To the fragrant orchards
Of your own blooming soul,
The sound of your own flowing song.

Remembering the importance
You have here,
how this very place is where you
create your own special magic,
The magic the world beckons
from you
At this time.
Listen gently.

May you return home
Sweeter than ever before,
Dip your toes in golden honey,
fill your belly with the moon, and
Bath your heart in the sparkling oceans.
Fill your own cup with your light
and fill it
Beyond the brim this time.

Easy love, difficult love, patient love, silent love, peaceful love,
loud expressive love,
Slow love.
Allowing yourself
To seep all love
into every crack and crevice
Of your thirsty being.

May you return home.

May you return home
And
Write the love letters
You always longed for,
Fill your aching sorrows
With your own inner knowing.

May you return home,
To the dance of how you truly move,
Releasing constraints,
Feeling laughter and liberation
With every drop of the shoulders.

May you return home,
Wiser and plenty,
Stronger and ready.

May you return home
To a rich rolling field
Across the plains of
Your own naked spirit.

Drench yourself
with the nectars from
An orchestra of flowers
In full bloom,
Make the intangible tangible.

May you return home,
To your own ambrosia,
A Sensuous oasis.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And if the waters do not flow
So easily,
Maybe they are hiding.
Be here in your weariness,
Be here in your discomfort,
Be here in your acceptance,
Be here in your gentleness.

Be here in this now,
In your stillness.
This sanctum,
This temple
Of light.

May you come home
However you are,
Light and Soft, like a butterfly
Or
Worn and weary
From footsteps and long days
or even years,
Etched into the fabric of your soul.

May you return home,
To your own
Resting place
Of peace.
To the silence of this forest,
The valley of this chest,
the flow of this winding river.

Your own arms are waiting
outstretched,
Ready to hold you.

May you feel the softness
Of your own pulse
And smile
With the remembrance
Of your own
Special light.

Where did that forgotten time go
She asks, curious
Staring deep like water
into my life of photos

And I wonder
How once I was just like her
Curious and free
Now a domesticated rose that rests still within a vase
Dust gathering in the petals,
She looks upon the marred photograph,

Time slips like a crescent moon upon the horizon,

Where did the wildflower of my heart go I wonder
She looks at me and sees herself,
I look into her and
I see myself.

Tonight drums beat in the after world
As my ancestors sing loudly for the ones coming home.

Tonight the sky painted herself the deepest blue I have ever seen,
Winged creatures cry out to this spreading landscape.
Stars shoot brightly upon mothers canvas.

Tonight my breath is heavy
So steadily I fill my lungs and watch the vapor freeze into the night air.

I am melting between realities,
dripping slowly into the unknown.
Tonight I am anxious and alive,
I am swallowing myself whole.
Awaiting calm to let her voice be heard through the silence.

I can feel the world shaking,
The moon turning her tides,
As ancient oceans lap against shorelines...
As ancestorial songs
Pulse in my heart.

Tonight I can feel the drums beating in the afterworld...
My blood carries their song.

The morning sun rises
Onward to some delicious mountain surprises
Beaming Orange skyline
Pink clouds so fine

I surrender to the longing in my heart
To wrap itself around you
An insurmountable
expression of love and gratitude
You bring forth a magnificent magnitude
A force that flows through me
Golden waters
Honey nectar dripping from my body
Calling to you
Reaching this delicious peak of love

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 know better
yet I fall too easily.
Something about the way you reminded me of someone I once knew
in a story written long before.
The time before I grew into this skin,
the time when I was seeking myself in novels with big words which I didn't understand.
How did I trust you
to hold my heart
when I saw how you held yours.

The Winter Sun

Uncoils
Over the world
Reaching little light tentacles
Into hidden crevices,
Smoothed over the cracking bark of pine and cedar,
Kissing awake arbutus and hawthorn,

Leaving a trail that rises just as steam from hot coffee does,
A residual warmth like the palm of grandfather,
“Good morning” he softly says as he gently pats my back,
And I feel the tenderness of this love in my heart.
“Good morning” I say in a whisper
As the sun takes my breath away,
As I breathe this breath with the sun,

A breath
for the whole waking world
fills my lungs.

The Sun,
with the same curiosity as a child,
Peers into the damp forest floor,
peeking under salal bushes and fallen fir boughs,
and Springs awake
Winter’s blanket.

Perhaps I am wild to say
I wish I could remember this
moment forever,
And moments like these
Which tear me apart and bring
me back together
All at once,
Moments where I am awestruck
By the glorious beauty of this dance.

So I am wild
and bathed
In the gleaming light,
As golden dewdrops sparkle
like stars around me,
As vapour shadows rise,
and green moss beckons to be
touched by the
tendrils of sunlight.

So I surrender
Into the arms of perfect harmony,
the love of a singing forest,
as if it's the only thing
I know how to do.

And it’s as if,
for a fleeting moment,
The sun truly touches
this Earth home,
while we in turn
Stretch towards the sun,
And for just one sweet breath
we share our hearts,

Together as one.

I'll meet you here
In the heart of silence,
When Dusk has drunk his last sip of day
And nights slips in like a silken whisper,
A single flame to light the way.
When the frantic running catches up,
may you succumb.
When all is left
are desperate prayers
Sent to brazen skies,
may you listen.
I'll meet you here,
In the heart of silence.
We hold these bodies,
Unsure of what is us
Or what is the universe around us,
Dancing stardust.
And what do the ocean waves take
and what do they leave?
What is ours to hold
or to grieve?
To let go of,
or to retrieve?
Surrendered unto the
Wisdom of this Earth.
I'll meet you here
in the heart of silence,
The place where life
rests her wary bones,
And truth reveals her gentle song,
Where wisdom and knowing slowly
wrap themselves around you to stay,
their pulse flows soft and strong,
And all else falls away.

I used to have a million words
within my head,
racing to slip from my lips or
write their way out of me.

Now I find it is difficult to write.
There is no longer a rush or race
to place my passion on paper.

I find I can only write from honesty now,
that my words must expand freely from the heart.

There is less trying only graceful flowing, listening to what each word has to say,
listening for the words which wish to bloom forth into this present moment next.

There is space, there is breath.

I used to dance like a maniac,
needing to rid myself of myself,
needing to explode with colours to feel satiated.
At times I still dance ever so wild
yet I have found when I slow myself and listen
I can feel each toe of this beautiful body whisper with life
like wildflowers growing
and it is then which I feel this love for dance rise.

I used to think I knew so much but now I accept
this grand sea of mystery which lies before me
and the tiny particle of sand I truly am
upon these shores.

I used to love fast
as if each breath were my last.
Now I love gentler
as if my heart were a mountain which pauses
before allowing the morning sun to pierce
through her ripening valleys.

I used to be scared of being seen,
occasionally I catch myself still living this fear
but now I smile at my vulnerability.

I used to leave my roots behind as they were powerful melodies
I wished to not hear
And now I welcome home each strong note of this song as I return.

I used to strive to be whole but now I wrap my arms around my chest and honour this ruptured heart which has broken open so many times yet still drips with sweet golden honey.

And now I find my wholeness
amid this cracking masterpiece.

I used to run
but now I soar.

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.

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.

I'll meet you here
In the heart of silence,

When Dusk has drunk his last sip of day
And nights slips in like a silken whisper,
A single flame to light the way.

When the frantic running catches up,
may you succumb.
When all is left
are desperate prayers
Sent to brazen skies,
may you listen.

I'll meet you here,
In the heart of silence.

We hold these bodies,
Unsure of what is us
Or what is the universe around us,
Dancing stardust.

And what do the ocean waves take
and what do they leave?
What is ours to hold
or to grieve?
To let go of,
or to retrieve?

Surrendered unto the
Wisdom of this Earth.

I'll meet you here in
the heart of silence,
The place
Where life rests her wary bones,
And truth reveals her gentle song,
Where wisdom and knowing slowly
wrap themselves around you,
the pulse flows soft and strong,

And all else falls away.

Sometimes I wonder
What the Ocean feels
When the snow has melted
And the rivers flow freely
Back to her,
And if she greets them
Like the heart of a greiving parent
Holding their child
After many long moons or lifetimes
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 this glorious river may flow.

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

Water is the life blood which ties us together.

And sometimes I wonder
If my ancestors or ones who've walked before me have touched this same water.
How these particles filled with ancient tales have formed clouds which burst over and over,
each drop of rain carrying it's own unique story.

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.

Allow the heaviness to sink in around you.
Allow the dust in the room to settle, fall calmly to the Earth.
Let go of the thousands of words unspoken.
Allow yourself to surrender.
Feel this sinking upon your shoulders,
this lifetime of burden is your own voice singing out.
You are the lotus amidst murky waters.
This weight is yourself calling to yourself.
Allow the throbbing of your heart to receive your prayers.
Allow yourself to come home to this body,
longing to receive you.
Patiently waiting.
Place your palm upon your chest.
Allow this intimacy to run from you
back to you.
To return these chords of familiarity to where they belong.
Allow the dust to settle.
And remember to Be proud
of the river that flows
through you
and your beating heart.

A letter to my inner child:
I speak
to your heart, to the longing within you,
to the Earth that rings through you.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Dearest child,
With eyes wide and innocent,
With palms held open unto this world,
Please trust
in this love.
You will find many distractions
in this lifetime.
You will find
Many pretty faces with false pretenses,
Tainted colors flashing,
Promises with no roots,
Fake smiles and sweaty palms
which
All lead you into blindness.
You will find
Tangled arms reaching for you,
Pulling you into the swarm,
Tugging from wars within,
begging you
to join the confusion.
You will find
A shell of a world
with
Loud noises, greedy oil,
and zipping cars
Disguised as redemption.
Do not lose your way,
This labyrthm may swim around you
but your heart is the mountain,
Steadfast and strong.
The moon is your guardian,
May she guide you.
Your soul is the lion,
May she Roar.
Do not fall in love dear one,
Rise.
Do not lose your way dear child,
Trust.
There is beauty
In listening,
There is beauty
in honour,
There is truth
in the silent path.
You will find racing speeds and excitement, enjoy these fleeting moments
As warm gifts of
impermanence,
But do not disregard
the wisdom
that beats and blossoms
from your heart.
For the voice that
walks with you,
that wakes with you,
will lead you
To exactly
where you are meant to be,
So listen.
It will lead you back home
To the glowing alter
of your
own sacred light.
It will lead you back home,
To the vast mighty
Mountain
you are
and
were born to be.

Feathered skin
Soft heart
Hold my hand
Just like
We are children
Running freely
I wish to kiss your lips
Cup your face in my palms
And pull you closer
like nothing stands in the way
Of such temptation
Inspired to be the wind
Caressing
Every wildflower
Singing to this
open road
Of 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.

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.

I watch the mallard ducks, tundra swan, and other waterfowl swim in circles, close to the spring-fed river where the ice, which has steadily swallowed the entirety of the lake, hasn't yet touched. The birds, presumably, are dipping and diving for food before the last moments of daylight slip away. Evening is rolling in and the sun glints across the mountains in the distance, stirring a sense of presence from deep within me. I catch my breath and watch the trail it leaves in the frigid air. It's been awhile since I've written anything. Staring upon blank pages wondering why what was once so easy has become an insurmountable task. I have come to see how writing is an act of love and to be honest I've been out of love with parts of the world. Avoiding my own feelings of discomfort and dismay. Time spent driving through towns which edge highway after highway. Who are the people who live here, what are their stories? Thoughts ramble and race from within me. My curiosity itches. My heart feels a longing sense of compassion for these broken towns. For the stories which have ended up unfinished, discarded like novels lacking the soul moving momentum to make it beyond the gas station book aisle. In the orange light I see billows of smoke rising, hollow faces trudging to the outskirts of town. I see a man crumpled over a grocery cart of bottles to the side of the highway. He is on a sort of mission, where that is to, I wonder. Perhaps another unfinished novel. I think about him and his life story, about the generations of him. I wonder how his hands look or how his feet feel walking day after day bent forward like that. I ache trying to put myself in his shoes.
I have been avoiding my feelings, I have been wanting to paint pictures that cover it all up and put roses boldy over the hurt. I want to accept that this is just part of life. Ever so often though my feelings seep in too deep and I can no longer withhold the barriers to my own truth. I imagine the children of these broken towns and I wonder where their dreams go. Zipping past a world of T.V's and fast food diets, cigarettes and flashing motels. Sometimes I can not turn off the faucet of my emotions and so with a sinking heart I watch the smoke of industry billow.
My mind creates stories of the place this used to be. Maybe it was once like the lake I sit at now, where aspen and willow softly dance together, where the thrush and fowl chirp with hope of a coming springtime. Ponderosa pine stands tall and mighty, and at her base the tracks of fox, deer, and rabbit may be found.
I marvel at the utter magnificence of creation, the perfection of the pink alpine sunset softly wrapping around me, the silence of winter where deep below the surface life secretly brews.
I do not know what to make of these stark differences in creation but I am grateful for the poetry woven into it all, even the poetry in the pain.
Passing through yet another bleak roadside attraction in the long winding night of echoes. I can't help but allow my mind to race and ramble itself upward and away, just like the billowing factory smoke, steadily rising into the crisp and starry night sky.

There is a jungle
Inside my heart
Wildness drumming
In every pulse
Its hard to understand its order
With its chaos
twisting in every direction
With bone shrieking madness laughing from within its canopies
But it is highly organized
To those that can see
Through the chaos
And
Into the eye of the storm

The larkspur tuck into the Reed minnows
Evening up guppies and grub
I stare out at the lake
Wondering why its taken me so long to write
Something, anything
It occurs to me that writing is an act of love
And I've been out of love with many things
Avoiding my feelings
The feverish sense of disdain
Upon seeing the glows of the city.
There is a sense of pain I feel
For the earth
For humanity
Seeing billows of smoke rise industry
These broken towns
Where I can imagine
Children
In there cribs parents watching t.v
Fast food diets
Stories where
The big brother
Is never good enough
I don't know how to turn off my faucet of emotions sometimes
So I don't bother
Entering the room with the running sink.
The ducks merganzers, birch bark, pine, aspen, willow, lake, glinting
Alpine
Frozen ice snow.

Greif has
Clawed at my insides
for many years now
Greif like a river
I could choose to tear at the shoreline as the current dragged me
Or I could surrender into unknown currents
Allow it to take me
And so I fell in
And it brought me on quite the journey
I was broken open
I let go of who I was
And I grieved who I was before
And I grieved
Like a river song
Which needed to journey
With no inhibitions
No ego games
No fear for being
Raw
I feel that greif will always be with me
An old friend waiting silently at the gate
I've learned
It has just been a journey of love all along
love and greif
Are of the same source
They are of the same river
To greive is to love
To love is to grieve
A deep bow to those
Who have allowed greif and love
to etch itself into you, to dance
Through you
Reminding me at a time when I needed it that I am allowed to be
That I am safe to surrender.

The apple hangs alone
Stooped down on its bough
Morning dew drips from its skin
The rising day slowly sinking in
Autumn is fading fast
Reaching for sunlight
hoping it will last
Soon enough we'll all be feeling winters wrath
But before then
Icy grey mist shrouds
And this lonely apple tree
Stands desolate in a farmers field
Beckoning to be picked
While the rest of the world
Remains in clouds

Dinner with my Brother

I don't mind baby slugs
In my salad greens
Picking away at them before I eat
Reminded of the connection
Between me and the Earth
that grew this meal
I am reminded to be grateful for even the slugs served a role in tonight's supper.
I think of salmon bones being returned to the earth
And I imagine the forest soils eating up the rich nutrients
How bears have filled their bellies with salmon from the rivers
And how the salmon bones have fed the forest
And how the forests have provided for the land
Providing shelter for the salmon
I think about
These cycles often

Just Like I think about
The last time I saw you
Glimmering in the sunlight
Laughing brightly as we ran along the street
And in a flash you were gone.
It took me many years
To understand how this too
Was part of
a greater cycle

I kept seeing you
In everything I touched and breathed
I cried river's of tears for
What felt like years
Greif and love being
Yet another cycle
I found you
In the songs of the wind
The birds flight
And the morning light
As it danced around me
As it begged me to open my parched lips
And drink in the dawn of a new day
To feel it
Wash through me
Cleansing me anew

It's taken me sometime
Crawling through the depths
of darkness
To find
My own cycle
And ryhtmn
Here on this earth
But more and more
I come to see
How we must tread
Lightly
With love and presence

So I slowed down tonight
To watch the sunset
Sink deeper into the skyline
I thought of you
And I felt the waves lap at my toes
And softly the glistening moon rose
And the cycles
Continued to circle around me
Every which way I looked
And I felt the softness of peace
Within me
And I felt you
In all things

Cycling forever
In this moment
This rich incomprehensible
Yet simple
Moment,
Yet another cycle
Of infinite life
Simply circling round

Just another drive by city
Sometimes I cry
For what we've done to you
I see you
So innocently
Still reaching for the glow of the sun
With nothing but love in your palms
I cry
With fists wailing
For the pain
We've cut
Into your hide
How can I ever begin to apologize
So I just feel the soft animal
Of my body resting on you
So I just hold you as you hold me
And fall into
This sense of solidarity