Aren’t we beautiful?

This is us- human beings – Being

So very beautiful and this week

I had an inner experience of this shared field…

The field that is always present

But is not always felt.

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A new friend came over and wondered where John was

And I told her that he was at Dialog…

And she wanted to know what “Dialog” was

So I said ” it’s you and I

sitting across from each other

and a third chair, pointing vaguely to the right….

And at that moment

the space opened into a kind circular field,

A cosmic peripheral vision

of love so complete I sobbed

My heart was full,

Hers too.

https://www.podbean.com/media/share/pb-bwcqy-140985c

Eulogy for Ann Ripley. 

Sniff the air ….and

Maybe there is a treat nearby….

Left behind from yesterday’s compost pail.

Delighting in her own totemic being,

She is a representative of the goddess

Bringing forth her Earth-body

From the spinning void.

Bestowing fertility on field and womb.

Nurturing the arts and

Protecting the home.

And with a happy twist of her tail

Pig leads us to set loves mysteries in play

With her astonishing joyous intensity.

Singing “La la La La”_ It’s May!

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“The imaginal realm is real

And through it you will never be separated

From any one or anything

You have ever loved

For Love is the ground

In which you live

And move and have your being”

I gave this painting

To a friend for her birthday

She has a young child and a poetic soul

And doesn’t like Christianity much..

She didn’t know about Mary’s significance….

She’s a master

Equal in love’s wisdom to her partner

And mother of his child.

My friend took note that in the painting

The mother is anonymous ( no eyes)

( she loved that)

But also available to everyone( no eyes)

( I loved that)

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I asked her

What’s that April Poem

by Edna St Vincent Millay

That mom so loved?

She, of course, knows the poem, quoting….

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“To what purpose,

April, do you return again?

Beauty is not enough”

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The poet’s desperate reveal,

Threading me back into my family

Mother, sister, me.

Expressing exactly how I feel

Bereft and set adrift

In the underworld.

“Beauty is not enough”

And when I asked my sister

Why do these words help so much.

She said, because they’re true.

There is a Troll under my bridge

And me and my friends are the soft bodies

Attempting to cross over.

Trip Trap Trip Trap Trip Trap

Quaking when I hear,

“Who’s that tripping over my bridge?”

As a child I was thrilled by the danger,

Now the danger is too real.

Two of my pals are in the hospital

Facing danger on their own.

My humble e mails of good cheer

Seem small next to the size of the beast.

Trip Trap Trip Trap Trip Trap

Bravely we cross this bridge.

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But just know this

I am the Biggest Billy Goat Gruff

And I Kick Butt.

“Babies need someone to feed them”,

A surprise to John who is helping Zora

With her breakfast this morning.

And his honest admission

Of not feeling a desire to do this simple thing

But there he sits- tiny fork in hand.

Zora is the third child of Molly and Tres.

Tres who just turned 50,

Resisted her coming but here she is.

Life will have it’s way with us.

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As my friend Phyllis likes to say

Amor fati

Love your fate.

If you want to live then you have to die.

As Willow said with a laugh,

It’s kind of immature to think you can avoid it….

“Talk about entitlement”

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Ann who died recently,

Is the color yellow.

A long line of daffodils

going up over the hill.

And the peace I feel

Is yellow.

I am the seventh sister

Stars in her heaven

Shining around her

Offering her a sponge sucker

To wet her month since drinking from a cup

Has lost it’s appeal.

Dying is phenomenal

An out of this world experience- literally

As we sit beside her

We are so completely present

Attentive to each word, each look, each laugh

John is there too, sitting beside her

And with a knowing cackle

She gave him some advise….

“Appreciate Sally”….

(An insider remark if ever there was one)

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What a privilege to know Ann Ripley

She has been an amazing friend

She has punch and wit and push back

Her brain still sharp, as her words slur and pause now

Her inner eye on the exit.

Her six daughters are in grief

I am too- it’s tough to say goodbye

But just as I was leaving

She gave me this piercing look

Of such love-

Such fierce sweetness- this.

It’s the path, it’s the right direction,

and the energy to travel this path”

It’s been a full-on ride of late

I won’t go into details

But the wake- up call has gone- out

Can you hear it?

Now Now Now, like the beat of a heart

Insisting on the best in me ( in we)

Which is only possible

If I can keep the worst in me

Close at hand, like an errant child

Best to keep track of her.

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But really my first and only job

Is to hold the value of the soul signal

I came here to deliver.

When this hierarchy has been corrected

When value supersedes karmic identity

The natural strength of the valued purpose itself

Supersedes the rest

And everything is so much easier.

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My right hand shields my left

Like a wing over a rock

Give is a feel- it’s how we work here

Two things in harmony but a choice has been made.

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