Archive | September, 2014

Pieces Of The Rock

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Pieces Of The Rock

Destiny causes us to pursue what is inherently ours, pleads our cause and then the ethers guard jealously the petitions.

The intangibles provide the greater obstacles in life.

The storm is the whirlwind but what follows is gentle on the brow.

If your batteries need recharging, how will you light up the world?

When the heart takes a sabbatical, more than a transplant is needed.

Easy to be philosophical on a full stomach?   Physical hunger is only one of many hungers and the easiest to satisfy.

If one can afford it,   a blank check can be written to feed the world’s physical hunger. No amount of money can touch spiritual hunger.

We tire eventually of depending on sheer endurance.

Solitary communion feeds.

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Don’t Stare At The Moon

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Don’t Stare At The Moon

Any farmer knows
you don’t stare at the moon too long.
You get a little soft in the head, they say.

What they really mean
is that magic overtakes you
and carries you to the place of green fields,
of orchards heavy with fruit
and cucumbers cultivated straight
as a shot of rye whiskey.

What they really mean is that the magic
will make you see fields to be seeded
and calves to be born
and worlds to be peopled.

What they really mean
is that you will fall in love
with your earth
and in awe watch the wheat weave its gold mat
right over your eyes.

It is a softness of the heart man fears,
for the myth must enforce
the hard head to blunt

the pain of life everlasting.

art by Claudia Hallissey

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Our Sacred Source

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In rereading some of my blog beginning material,  I found posts that I felt should be repeated.   Many of my newest readers may not be familiar with my work with situations that have become more important as time elapses.  This is one of them concerning my beloved Earth schoolroom.   I present it again and hope it may bring discussion to the dinner table.

Our Sacred Source

I heard a grandchild say at a very young age, ‘when mamma is happy the whole family is happy.’   I have seen when a family is in turmoil,  in sickness, and  the hot water tank springs a leak,  the washing machine stops  that mama says,  this we can handle, even   when we  are  out of bread, out of milk with  no cereal in the cupboards.   I have also seen things go right when a family is working in harmony under adverse conditions  because the parent gods work to make it so.

A young friend says to me that she hates what cloudy weather  does to her and is it ever going to stop raining?  We give credence to all these feelings.   One day I said to another friend, ‘ how are  you treating the world?’   ‘Don’t you mean how is the world treating me?’  he asks.   I assure him I meant what I asked.

It is not a far stretch to see that our Mother Earth reacts the same way.   Our Earth  reacts to human trauma.   It reacts to human turmoil and human agonies.  There are those who say that earthquakes and tornadoes  and other tragedies are part of Nature and because we have such high tech systems,  we learn of them more quickly.   But we are now a planet of greater numbers and we live in each others’ pockets.   We no longer have large expanses of lands and waters that can absorb Nature’s hiccups.   A tsunami is not a hiccup anymore when thousands of people are running for their lives while water is pushing new beaches where beaches never were before.

When the Earth splits in two and hundreds are swallowed  in another earthquake while the other side of the world moans in pain as markets react and jobs and economies are torn asunder, this tells us  we are of one brotherhood.  We are as natural to our planet as all other species and events.  Thoughts carry power as strong as Nature itself.  Thoughts and emotions weigh heavily and will have their aftermath somewhere.

We cannot separate Nature’s events from the emotions that view them.  We rise from the same bed.  Let us respect and pay homage to our Sacred Source.

photo by John Holmes

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Angels We Have Heard

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Angels We Have Heard

He came up quietly and stood shifting his weight from one foot to the other. I put my book down and waited for him to speak. Can we go, he asked, to see the lady with the blue cloths? Is there a reason you want to go, I asked. And he said I need answer to question.

Okay, I said, we can do that. I can be ready in a few minutes. And he ran to get himself together and we were good to go. We chattered about many things on the way to the place with the lady with the blue cloths. There was no mention of the things that needed answers. I asked if I could be with him while he talked to her. Always, he said, he wanted me to be part of the answers. I not like secrets, he said, just regular stuffs that he had been thinking about.

So we entered the place and were welcomed with hugs. He said he needed to ask some things and she was the one who would be able to answer him. We went to a small table where she did her work and she made us comfortable. Ask me what you need to know, she said. And the young one looked at her and said in a firm voice, I don’t want to forget where I come from, he said, and I afraid I won’t ‘member and how can I ‘member when my friends say it is baby stuff I talk about. Yet my friends who not seen, are part of that other place. I not want to forget them ‘cause they say things that are ‘portant. How can I ‘member when here friends don’t talk?

The hardest part, she said, is for you to want to remember. You must do the remembering and see how everything connects. It will be hard for you and they will make fun of you. But the here friends are afraid to be different. And only when you remember from where you have come can you make life better and make a difference. You may not see the difference you make, but from another place, it is a big difference. It hurts when they laugh and you wonder especially if it is important. But it is, it is. And good friends will want to be with you. Because they know you are special. She had put her hand over his on the table and he curled his fingers around hers.

He stood up and said, I ‘member. You help me to ‘member. Yes, she said, you will. You will. He took my hand and we thanked her. She nodded and whispered it begins and I bless.

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Where Are You Going, Absalom?

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Where Are You Going, Absalom?

‘to where the moon
can melt the sun,
the cactus blooms
at high noon
and the darkness
bids good morning. . . . .

where cowled thoughts
and taut skin
need never cover
hot bones
and the cactus
no longer pricks . . . .

to fly wingless
to the mind’s ankh,
taking only me, only me
and find that I
suffice.

I’ve been before
to Paradise,
but forgot.
Reaching in,
I reach out,
touching my own
nimbus.
I’ll not be gone long.’

David wept.

Photo by John Holmes

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Second Thoughts

Second Thoughts

Under adverse conditions,   we become more of what we are.

It is easy to kiss a sleeping child.  The saddest part is that this kiss is not a memory maker for the sleeping child.

Humans are born with clenched fists.   Pray their god a someone in their life to unclench them.

Conflicting signals paralyze the child.   The healthy child is in jeopardy when he no longer can trust those in authority and must place trust in himself whom he has been taught not to trust.

To strip a child of trust puts him in a state  of unbelief about what he sees and hears and largely what he thinks.

To close the mind of the child is an unpardonable offense.   The fear in the guardian is not sufficient excuse.

You will effectively give birth to the physically mature man-child who stammers  ‘who am I to know?’ as opposed to the trusting child who shouts ‘I know that I know!’

Children come in all sizes.   Some too large to sit on your lap but not too large to sit on your heart.

In retrospect,  life is a collection of miracles called coincidences.

 

 

 

 

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Life Ongoing

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Life Ongoing

Confirmation from vast points,
from sundry points,
lead to an overwhelming wealth of data,
signifying the collective ‘we’.

Insofar we see the only articulate ‘I’,
we ponder the seas confirming our depth,
the mountains asserting our height
and the earth revealing our substance.

Glancing blows strike only
our shield of skin,
composed themselves of styrofoam.
Pierced edges of words
strike hot the peeled rind of emotions,
exposing only fibrous tissue.

But through all, we slide
like peeled comfrey, slick and smooth,
the oiled parts of a machinery;
deus in machina.

Still, we slow the burden burdensome,
noises polluting our hearing,
the events in motion
boggling our eternal eye

We move out of the arena
testing our mettle,
out of a life holding neutral for no man,
out of love gripping our pulses.

To a new world testing our mettle yet,
to a life in neutral only for a moment,
to a love gripping anew our pulses.

It is a universe of no retire.

photo by Christina Socha

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Kiss The Moon Winner

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The Common Thread Winner of Kiss The Moon is Wendy Greenspan!   I am delighted to have participated in this blind drawing.   Many of the poems I use on my blog I often pick from Kiss The Moon.   The email will go out this evening and as soon as I have the particulars,  Wendy will have her book.   I want to thank all the members of Common Thread who share generously with their talents .  And those who are new to my blog,   I hope you will put me in your toolbar and visit often.   I learn from your comments and appreciate the time it takes to make  them.   There will be a small wall quilt offered toward the holidays so I hope that there will be incentive enough to follow me.

But perhaps my thoughts alone will be enough to make this stop interesting.   I treasure my post with responsibility garnered from a lifetime of knowing the weight of words.   Perhaps a ‘maybe’ will be injected into your thoughts and that I consider a privilege.   The only way we progress is to enlarge our premises.   We must give space to different thinking and sometimes it means that we must do some work on tightly held opinions.   My thinking is constantly being tempered by thoughts from the youngest members of our family as well as all the media operating in a free society.   As long as we continue to breathe the rarified air of human existence,  thinking is a sacred obligation.     I wish to thank all of you again who  entered with your meaningful comments.

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Once Upon A Time

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This from the teacher’s notebook. . . . . . .

This should really start out with once upon a time. And we do. . . .for once upon a time when humans took form there was an openness about them which we can say was almost biblical. Until the fig leaf, for various reasons, was needed.

When man first walked, he knew from where he emerged. It was a very large picture that he held. In the classic Homer’s Iliad, the gods involved with the physical characters were in various stages of growth. Both gods and angels created.

Now we try to explain what is considered myth by classes in literature but was really an openness that was first employed by all. It was a natural state. But then came the nemesis of dis-ease; of fear, of flight and of desire and the brain’s doors were closed. What should have been a rapid growth in man’s progression has turned into a snail’s pace. And the grinding of the mills is studious, well intentioned and designed not to upset those who could not handle the subject at all.

Survival became the prime reason for being. Just to breathe and keep living whether one be animal or human. And this has been the standard operating procedure since the Adam and Eve story. One does not change horses in the middle of the stream it seems, unless the horse becomes too powerful to ride and rides the rider. That is when something must be done.

There will be genetic maneuverings and manipulations and the strongest will survive. The how and why of it all must be answered in the head of the person needing to know. And the picture of this planet must always be kept in mind when negotiating for changes. This is the school for learning the rudiments of behavior for a Universal existence.

And already we broaden the premise from physical Earth life to life in other worlds. If a closed physical system is preferred and for those uncomfortable with a universe of no retire and since all transit at the end of this physical existence, more thought must be given to the next phase of life. We must consider harp lessons since the heavens are all full up with guitar players.

photo by Kathy Qualiana

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Common Thread Giveaway

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This week I am the guest in the Common Thread Giveaway.   The dates for this drawing are from today the first of September to Thursday evening the fourth of September.    The winner of this blind drawing will be announced on Friday.   So the dates are today the 1st of September to the 4th of September with the winner being announced on Friday,  the 5th of September.   When you comment on a post of mine,  your name will go into a container and will be announced on Friday.     There is time for you to look and browse the blog and make your comments.

I have done this before with this wonderful group and I am delighted to be doing this event again.    For those of you who have not been to my blog,  I welcome you and hope that you will be a follower.   I have many who have found my poetry to their liking and hope that you will also.

Maria from full moon fiber art.com and Jane from Little House Home Arts.com have been especially helpful to me besides being  good friends.   Their talents in their art have been a pleasure to watch and their encouragement has given my own work greater scope.    I am honored to be asked to contribute as the guest of Common Thread.   My blog has a few of my poems from Kiss The Moon and I do hope you leave your comments.   Perhaps your name will be picked and you will be a winner this time.   Good luck to you!

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