I drew a tarot card for my nephew today
The Magician and it reads,
will power, discipline and taking appropriate action
with a warning to not partake of the low hanging fruit of the uncommitted.
I know this boy, this freshly graduated High School senior!
Last summer while he was listening to tunes through buds in his ears,
he somehow knew to take them out
just in time to hear the warning rattle of the coiled snake at his feet.
So the Magician fits.
Life is like this, a constant flow of information,
tailored for our development and wonder.
A chance to fulfil our unique and rare purpose,
usually not found on any form with little boxes to check.
Being an artist is just a cover story for my true purpose,
A Subversive Activist for the Preservation of Humanity-O
What’s your handle?
An elephant in heat is called Must
Fertility demands union, life is a must.
Men desire women with an intensity that is molecular
(No wonder men wanted to call God ” He”)
Spring is a good time for compassion
So give “him ” a break, nodding to the mystery,
A skip in the park.
(For Charlie this Beltane)
When I was a girl, The Silent Spring was published, written by Rachel Carson,
who wove together her abilities ,
beautiful writing with an understanding of deep science,
She was single parent and attacked by the powerful and at the end, very ill
Yet, she woke up the world to an awareness that DDT was killing the birds
Hers was the first voice heard, we had no idea of remote consequences
Of poisons permeating delicate ecosystems.
Women became warriors, I saw it in my mother.
RC “The stream of time moves forward and mankind moves with it.
Our generation must come to terms with the environment.
We must face realities instead of taking refuge in ignorance and evasion of truth.
Ours is a grave and sobering responsibility, but it is also a shining opportunity.
We go out into a world where mankind is challenged, as it has never been challenged before, to prove its maturity and its mastery — not of nature, but of itself.
Therein lies our hope and our destiny.” EARTH DAY 2019
When my mother died she was whisked away in a black bag
within an hour of her death, taken by people we did not know.
She wanted her body to be given to Science ( whoever that is)
Years later, still stricken, my brother and I have a confusing relationship,
Could it be that this lack of ritual upon her death has severed us?
Big things happen so fast and become unconscious so quickly.
We hardly know the cause of our pain.
Didn’t Mary Magdalene freak out when the tomb was empty?
Oil and cardamom spice, flower petals and cornmeal.
Come June, the three of us , who shared womb space,
Will pile high upon a plate, our mother’s ashes,
Blessedly returned, thank goodness.
For we are in need of a time together
to just be with her and each other.
In a semi state of ever repeating karma
friendly and familiar, in a well knit cocoon, we drift
Like the matrix but the thing is…..
Right before it all begins again
We can choose our narrative
the sand in my mouth has become a pearl.
John told me about a TV show about a wealthy man
Who adopts six odd children with super powers
The children grow up, the man dies
And they need to find ways to work together
to save the world (of course)
Then John quietly added, “They have to try,
Like us, despite their dysfunction, they have to try”
Fists unfurled, we have to try.
The odds are great and ego( separated mind) is strong so just bring it along for the ride.
The sweater that was meant to keep me warm
is tattered, no longer functional, I shiver
Thoughts like missiles, hurl you away from me
I am causal and blind to it
Preferring my perfect incriminations,
Who doesn’t love being “right”
Useless pile of yarn, useless sacrifice
Maybe I can take up knitting
a woven pattern of darks and lights
unraveling what has been excluded.
Will you remind me if I forget?