An eagle was involved with the quick landing of the hawk

(I had just begun my mediation) Facing East

Toward the sawed off Cottonwood- I

Waited with the hawk- while she

Readjusted herself after a close call.

Reading the signs of nature – her ruffled feathers..

An obvious a reflection of myself.

Readjusting constantly to the steady flow of disruption….

The eagle left- who knows what actually happened?

```````````````````````

I am interested in my not knowing.

In this field of “I’m right and you are wrong”

We have to work with broader truths…..

Even as the mind screams it’s rightness.

Surrendering to spirit- spirit it there

A true friend.

```````````````````````

Happy Imbolic-

First glimpse that spring is on her way.

On this cold Saturday

The faithful of Lyons show up to protest.

I lent my scarf to a hatless comrad

Holding our signs high.. we are

Neighbors in RESISTANCE

And as Sam says, ITS OUR DUTY.

( our democracy is compromised)

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

I wandered over to a low fire

Coals heated by a propane tank

Guarded by a wolf.

( It felt like a homeless camp-

Sharing with each other what we had)

…and so

I asked the wolf for a story,

(He was a young guy but it made a go of it.)

“Just back from Minnesota, visiting family

Where is was 20 below-

Amazed that my car started.”

There were three us at the fire

A strumming guitar player and I- who

As we stood there together- felt the deeper truth…

Community is sustainable.

So don’t be fooled into thinking

That we are not connected.

~~~~~~~~~~~

So in these days of extreme strife…

Let’s tell each other things…

Letting our chest be like drums

Where the words reverberate

Melting the ice.

Astonished once again

As the sun clears the cliff edge

A single tree- is lite with such light

As to make one laugh out loud-

With a- How can it be- feeling of wonder.

It’s our very own Burning Bush ….and it is

Time to set out on an “exodus”

Having recognized that the slavery of our past

No longer serves-the collective.

“““““““““““““““““““““`

I love the image of HER as a burning bush

Brightening the horizon

On Martin Luther King Jr Day.

I’m listening.

Minnesota- land of ten thousand lakes

The Ojibwe The Lakota

Let the rising smoke of the smudge be

Held North East- to Minnesota.

Spirit rattle- calling on the strength in the land

To support the people who call this place home.

The front of the storm has come to your shores

For now… you do this work for us…

Whistling beside a machine gun.

In the face of danger

Offering assistance to your neighbor-

Saying to us all-

This is what we do- this is who we are.

The dark forces pay a full time staff

A big salary just to create scary messaging

That we will fall for….

And then those who don’t agree

Are repeating the madness…

spreading the germs

by repeating it again.

What are we messaging to those we meet

What it is we would like them to believe…

Which god- because the golden calf is out there.

Breathing slowly through the heart

Calling on Higher Power

The First Step of the 12 steps….

As we stumble around inebriated on media..

I called for help today

And it’s wild how quick I got it.

How can this be?

““““““““““““““““““““““`

I had gotten thrown off course

By the storm that is America

Or what is left of her.

But I am obligated as an elder

To set the fear aside- consciously.

““““““““““““““““““““““““`

Breathing with the heart

Slow and easy.

It’s called SHOLDER- space holders.

Hello Best Beloveds…..

Can we stand in the fierce beauty

And feel the Earth

The power of her love

That sings in our bones.

We are not separate- She is us

And we are Hers.

“““““““

This long ago-photo is of John and I

Out for our three days and nights

Sleeping on the snow- bone cold.

But in such awesome stillness

As to never be the same.

““““““““““““““““““

On that note-

There is a ski expedition film on You Tube-

About when John and two others skied

The Mountains of Colorado.

The film is called Moving Line.

Just a moving line in the snow.

An art project I offer to children who visit

A small collection of fuzzy balls-

Glued to paper in your very own cosmic order.

And when my young guest is gone

On my coffee table remains…..

Fuzzy prayer beads

For me to contemplate

And come to understand

The divine nature of things.

If she is a bear then so am I

She came to my house

With her eyes shining and hips wide

Sniffing the river – saying no to tea…

And proceeded to tell us her tale

Of the Bear Portal…

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

She had been in Northern California

Where there are lots of bears….

Driving at night- alone

When she came upon a bear

By the side of the road.

Her mind racing – she suddenly let go

And laid down next to her still warm fur

And held her in her arms..

Eventually sitting with her in her lap

And finally standing up

With the bear before her.

When she let out a growl

With the last of the air in her lungs.

The bond was made.

( Bear sitting on my couch- smiling)

I too am a full bellied bear

Eating honey-

And if I seem a bit gruff

Well I can’t help it- it’s my nature.

What a joyful romp to be in company

Of another she bear- who came to remind me

Of mySELF.

Weary from the birth

I have my second cup of coffee….

It’s been a solstice of letting go

A surrendering to the light…

Which equates in human terms

As more acceptance

“Of “what I can not change.”

The thing about healing is

It can happen quick..

But the preparing for it

Can take a lifetime.

We deserve to be free of the burdens

That have defined us.

Can we dare to be bran new?

Take that chevy for a ride

Wind in our hair.