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shamamama May 2019
Some strong sensations on my ankle
Unravel me
Dissolve me

Remind me
When pain and suffering
Led the path

I thought it was real,
Was the only,
Was the only way--

And now I wake up to ten thousand
Hairs on the soles of my feet
Tugging me
Into the day
From starlight
And ancestors
Going my way

Remember, remember
I walk on these feet
With curiosity, flexibility,
Wonder and love

Grandmother Earth
Is right down below-- So
Today I can step on
The ground with pure joy,
Embracing this place by
Loving breath from my soles
A Long while ago I was challenged for a few weeks by my legs, I learned to approach life and "my doings" with reverence and love to ceremony, intention, and awareness.
shamamama May 2019
Innocence saw the truth
The mind filtered it, and
Misery spoke it (to him)
He heard it
And sharp anger impaled it
Revealing the remaining
Fragments of Adulterated
Distorted Truth
Making sense of distortions and how unhealthy communication and stories whittle away truths, diverging towards a shallow muddy puddle of view.
shamamama Apr 2019
Hungry.

In the silence,
of this afternoon,
they arrive, ready
to feed children who wait
in nest high above.
Their high whistle dancing,
pierces the soundscape
These mejiros--yellow with sharp white eyes,
Comb through hibiscus bush
Finding a meal
Hidden within
Like  parrotfish
Munching through coral reef,

I sit under tree listening,

Abruptly
The seashells to my mind
Fill with shrill sounds
Of mothers scolding monsters,
A quickening--
Their white eyes dart like fearful
squid flying through
brushy undercurrents.
Underneath,
The small lion cat
Stalks the
Hungry sounds
In the bush

the Hungry looking for Hungry
Mejiros fill the landscape here, they are active feeders and singers of this tropical landscape.  I played with metaphors from the land and from the sea--reflecting on Hawaiians who match something from the earth and something from the sea.
shamamama Apr 2019
Gentle silence unfolds into chaotic cacophany
My eyes once dry
open wide to watering
the rain outside
the tears inside
washing away debris
from the forest
of confusion
watering my seeds
of awakening
to this truth
now
The once quiet night turned from pattering to battering, pounding and sounding --more like the rain of jaguars and wolves awakening me into my thoughts...
shamamama Jun 2019
everyday?
really!  Yes.  
choiceless.
I'm tired.
I'm sore.  
I don't want to.
Show up.
Be present,
do your best,
breathe,
wake up,
practice
and
life moves
through you
in the most
extraordinary
ways
I wrote this poem to bring positive attitude around daily practice.My special needs son has a daily 1+ movement practice to help him develop his brain and to become masterful in his life.I have a strong commitment to help him with this neurological reprogramming.
shamamama Apr 2019
How long did I believe
The sunrise is forever
He told me
And I saw the golden hues of hope
Sculpted into forever
And a day--
Until one day what was inbetween
All the sunrises emerged
And I tasted the bitter,
the butter, the batter of all the other.
I feel like poetry helps me to learn how to process all the uncomfortableness of life unfolding, and lets me peal away layer after layer, to uncover what is ready to be understood.
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