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.

Whom Does the Grail Serve?

If we forget to ask – then nothing can heal.

“““““““““““““““

It was late afternoon

In an industrial part of Boulder

An odd place for a walk

But Banks and I both needed a stretch….

Heading back toward the car-

We approached a man in a black T shirt

Getting ready to bed down for the night

By a utility box- with his two white sheets.

And as we passed -he warmly called out

“Merry Christmas”

And where do we go from here…

In the parking lot – my car held

An extra warm shirt and a travel blanket

Which I took over to him.

He’d already covered up with his sheets-

Shivering.

I suggested that I drive him to the shelter

But he said that he wasn’t good with people.

I handed him my jacket , knowing it was not enough.

I think of him..

One of us who lives

And possibly dies- so close to the veil.

Our shared mythology experienced for a moment.

Thank you.

When we were young

John’s mother bought him a raft

Tor 800 dollars and he and his friend

Formed a rafting company called Styx River.

The river between life and death.

( I guess they were warning their customers)

“““““““““““““““““`

In my morning mediation

As I allow for a “part “to come forward

I didn’t know who it was a first

But I trusted the guy…

His boat gently rocking on the River Styx

Holding his latern to brighten the dark

It turns out he’s an old friend…

His only task is to ferry me across

When it’s time.

I love this guy and he loves me.

It’s love that carries us over.