Wearing a mohawk of feathers

I emulate the Lakota Fancy Dance

My arms – eagle wings

As I bank a turn left then right

Stompting my feet

I stir the dust.

Remembering our first people

Living in America

With it’s very different value system.

( like now)

We can’t even imagine the creativity needed

To pull this off but we are getting a look at it.

We have allies..

The earth’s incredible power

“America the Beautiful”

The corn fields in Ohio, the splash of Lake Erie.

Driving across endless Texas with Pricilla

As we delivered art to Florida,

She just had to stop in Paris Texas

To have me take her photo.

And Yellowstone tucked inside Wyoming

It’s ever present sacred heat

Reminding us that the earth lives

And we are hers.

Leaving the mind and moving into my feet

I dance with you my beloved.

Willow and I have been treading water

Kicking our legs in the deep mystery

As if the Lucien’s health depended on it

All the while opening in ourselves to

New spaces of faith.

And haven’t all of us have been treading or

Dreadiing the election

Posed on the cusp of the great unknown?

But as with Lucien, I feel a surge of light

Has entered and we will have

Our First Women President.

As I write this

A huge space blossoms in my being- feeling

The enormity of the shift in consciousness

Released from an intense pressure….

I can see us

As we just float- a few feet off the ground

Waving to a floating neighbor

Complete wonder is in the air.

Here we go!

The late sun made the river sparlkle- so

I called to John suggesting he

Lay down beside me and see

The light on the water.

He fell asleep, my hand on his heart

His hands covering mine.

An unusual moment of repose

For we two rough wranglers-who

Sure do know how to “hold their own”

Defenses like fenses build long ago.

But on this sunlight afternoon

I did not stir an inch- listening to him sleep

I savored our love

Our truest truth.

The veil is thin between the worlds….

Am I here-it’s hard to know?

With so much spirit in the air.

The first frost has sent the dry leaves tumbling

To earth, like me one day.

From this dream to the one that follows

The here and the next –

We simultaneously exit in both.

Refected, by our inner DNA Helix

Looping left we experince the 3d dimension

While bending to the right – the 5th.

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

Time to sit for a minute

Feeling the light run all the way down into

My roots, joining the tangled roots of all.

Metaphysically I am yours

And You are mine.

““““““““““““““`

It’s Halloween!

In turbulant times

A story can sooth the soul.

In a cave, an old woman

Sits weaving the most beautiful garment in the world

She uses her teeth to flatten the porcupine quills,

Worn to nubs, her smile is most effective.

Hers is a perfect creation and as she sets it down

to wander to the back of the cave to where

A huge caldren sits on a fire

It is full of seeds, all the seeds in the world

The forest, the plants, the flowers

And it requiring stirring so that it does not burn.

While she is there

A black dog comes into the cave

Sniffing the garment, it pulls on a thread

Until the whole thing is unwoven.

When the old women returns

She sees the pile of thread

Perhaps she yelled at the dog- I don’t know

But with a wild glimmer in her eye

She begins again

Knowing in herself that the next garment

Will be even more beautiful.

““““““““““““““““`

I heard this story told by Michael Meade

In the early dark

They released the young beaver

Into a pond near Ward

Low in the water

Head up- tail strong….A posture we know…

Willow and Lucien

And all of us- truly

Each in our own way

As we brave new waters

Perhaps even with bright eyes

And small animal smiles.

Breathing into the next unknown.

Cages are meant to be opened.

My friend died this week

A tidy exit, like a well ordered tackle box.

No fuss…. just John

Awaiting his ride home from the hospital.

He’d been released and was going home

Perfect metaphors for what happened next.

His big heart decided to call it quits.

He was alone as fly fisherman often are

When he got the urge to enter the wide river

Casting his perfect line

Into the water to catch a rainbow.

Time to exit, while things looked pretty good.

It’s funny how people touch your soul.

They are so themselves that

They become- part of you.

When too much fear has entered

It’s bascially a hostile take over.

The true self is submerged.. barely breathing.

Having our kid get so sick

Has dislocated us in time and space-

Catapulted into orbiting a distant and cold planet.

My back hurts and my legs buckle

The atmosphere of fear has a ripple effect…

In normal life I question the validity of fear

Knowing her to be the twisted sister that she is

But once she’s gotten the upper hand

It’s time to put in a call

For”HELP”

And then witness the magic of the turning….

A person, a line a book,

My cat coming back after a night out

And he’s from Houston.

In these profound medicine journeys

You have to reach for what sustains you

What surrounds you and holds you

When fear is knocking in your heart.

What is my constant- my safety?

One thing I know is that…

Our travails are not without meaning

The soul has called for a vision

Praying without water on a high hill

We see through the veil

And feel the power in the invisible realm

The power of our love.

A view of art making as soul retrieval,

His and Mine.

Lucien has been sick

Bringer of Light- Lucien

Got his body snatched by the underworld

And we all went with him.

It’s been crowded in there

So many prayers and jugs of bone broth..

But it had gone on too long and we were lossing steam,

So I made art, a mono print

(Which is funny because mono

Was the culprit that started this whole thing.)

I filled the kitchen table with paints

And cut paper to size

And I was gifted by spirit with this image of Lu

His bright and steady nature, seen clearly

And through this process

It was as if I had insisted that the demon

In the underworld who had a hold of him

Let go.

Our ancestors knew of this power

In the cave dreams , we have tools.