Motion of the World

I started today with the hope of a young one in the wild,
a child catching dreams that seemed to resonate, create,
like fate come knocking at my door. Before life
I was curled up, goals hurled and slammed against
the locked up freedom of my mind, the kind time
couldn’t lift me from the despair to share the news
that I am also here. So near to my realized aspirations,
desperations sizzling onto the shores
with the magnetic froth and foam come to cover my weak knees.
I danced in the waves, the sea crashing and me just dashing
beyond the undertow. I know I am the same inside
yet the links, the distorted thinking has changed. I’ve arranged
my thoughts into the beauty of being me. I am still
that youth inward, that heard the joy, the sound of life
running at me as I chose to see me enveloped in my own husk
instead of dying in the dusk. I developed
my own shell into joining the swell, the pulsing, the beating, the meeting
of mind and body in rapture. I am sure
the icy freeze could still push me down into the watery churn
but I continue to learn to stand, to face the agony, the fear,
the dearest me still alive as I strive to walk on. Dawn
comes as the water recedes and my needs are just born
with the sunlight grasping hold of my will still to just be me.
I walk in the sand my prints left for others to follow in the waking
of my spirit, deep desire to keep it, to perhaps bless another’s
path as they dare to dip a toe into life’s ocean, a stormy soul’s
journey to becoming whole in this motion of the world.

Ancient Curve

I saw the ancient curve, my nerve raised,
pressure to persuade my body I was still young
hung in the absence of rebuttal. The world dim
with the last bit of light setting into the evening’s rim
without flames. I blamed my generation, my nation
that decided I was over the hill, my will lingering
beyond the fingering of my rosary as still I crept, wept up the ascent,
meant for the rising of my courage towards the magnificent
oak. I choked back tears, fears of before, more and more
wanting to reach out my own twisted limb to its limb
with the years coated on in knots and twists. My fists
closed on my nails and then I unclenched and pressed
them into the trunk. I debunked the lies, the webs
we spun each other about age, the rage spewing
out to the forest all about the crooked tree.
I missed me. The young believer, reliever of stress
In others, sisters, brothers, a spell wrapped up in my eyes
to the surprise to find I was as young as I felt. I knelt
before the disfigured majesty, beyond a travesty to its
pulsing heart I longed. It belonged here near to its birth,
worth because it simply was, and I was aware
of its being. Freeing myself from my own caged perception
I wrapped my arms around part of its shade. I made
my own security part of the mystery of living on earth,
the world better for being in than without. I doubted
the world shared my view but I knew to spread my seeds,
sow my desire, feed the fires that lit up life as I scattered
My impressions, my depressions, my molds that mattered and formed.
I was done with conforming to life’s standards. I embraced
the wrinkles, the deformities, the simplicities of living,
giving this ancient oak part of me in the act of connecting
two as one. I could be done with the worries of before, I wanted
simply more of the present peace that the oak and I released into,
crafting a life’s view I could really see.

Trying to Be

I found your love in the quiet beauty of an afternoon alone,
no phone calls but your voice in the meadow, knowing you were there
sent to me on the wings of a butterfly, the vivid reds and yellows
the sight of our once greatness together. I flitted behind you,
knew that you would show me where to be. Away from the city
I walked through the green blades, wading through knee high
stalks like brittle hands of straws that poked me into the now.
Somehow I made it through and out onto the red rocks with the lichen
trailing journeys for our fingers to travel and then touch. I loved you so much,
still do, but who are you? Where have you gone? Dawn comes
and goes and God knows I still follow your scent you left on the cases
of our pillows, the snows come in the fading fall the emptiness of our love
and I cry frozen tears that haven’t thawed even with the rebirth
of spring. Today I lift out of my despair, to raise my voice to the rare flittings I follow
in the colors of the day. I miss your way, your smiles that lingered
on my eyes, the surprise of you wanting only me. I believed
it would never end. I friend the birds, the bees, the wind’s cooling breeze
for I want to feel you against me, beside me, near enough to hold.
Some days I am cold still, can’t get the icy fear of your leaving
out of my breath, death seems an invitation that I don’t respond to yet.
I met you in the stirrings of the squirrel out back and I lacked
the energy to greet you. I left you when I forgot that you could still
be part of my heart. I started to withdraw from life but then one sunlight
afternoon, the rays catching me behind the glass, I passed through
my mourning to watch a cardinal at the window. And now I know
it was you, new life, new living, the giving of your time back to me.
I see the possibilities of keeping on even without your first kiss
on my neck at the dawning of each day born. I spread feeders
about our yard, thought I still mourn the hard truth that you are living a different
plane of existence. The insistence that you still fly to our place
keeps me facing the newness of this life. I am ever your wife
but I now stock the feeders full of seed, I sow the days with kindness,
compassion, and the irrational thought still that it is your will
that you find me in the beauty of the quietness that fills
with life beyond humanity as I simply try to be.

A Journey

Today I will climb into my passion like a comfortable car,
travel back to the time when I met young friends with the setting
sensations of profound sight, delight, desire
to settle my pen onto the page in an age when all I knew
was simply to do.
I will rest my hands on the grip of the wheel, the places
where my fingers print my progress, my foot on the gas
to pass back into the time when so young I didn’t notice
that my hands were going to wrinkle, the pages were going
to smear, the tears were going to flood my vision,
and my mission in life might not always be so clear.
Oh dear one that I was, causes seemed so certain
to undertake, now I make my living giving out phrases,
the mazes through words for others to decipher, and her,
the girl I was so long ago, is she still within me?
Can I still see her around the distorted years, the fears,
the mere tasks of getting old?
I sold my car.
I decided to walk, talk to the birds, the bees
that buzzed by my ears, the deer in the meadow,
the greens showing me the beauty of becoming.
I kept up with the music of the day, strumming
on a blade of grass, the last hour of sunlight passing
to meet myself young and old, clear and bold,
our muse the use of the time we shared.
Paired our passion burst into blooming ideas,
the rush of inspiration, the inflation of ideals,
the peals of laughter raining upon us,
the must discussion of how good it felt to just be.
I see me in the flower, the hour when I stood as a child
in the wild beginnings of life. I see me in the ancient tree,
the gnarled trunk, the sunken roots now spilling out
over the ground. I am found between the early seeds
and the snow topped mountains in the distance,
yet inside my passion, my purpose, my aim
explodes with each creation I name,
my art released but always here
near to the part of my nature that drives me.

Beside an Elder Tree

I would spend more time laughing beside an Elder tree,
spinning tales of sunshine’s birth, the happiest mood set free.
I would lift my spirit with great hope that I shall overcome,
believing I am good enough to not live life so numb.

I would chase my dreams that spin about, lose myself in fame,
the greatest wealth of love obtained, the sweetest sound, Thy name.
I would gift a hundred smiles born, I’d rid the world of pain,
seeing that to give relief dries up the harshest rain.

I would live each day as if the light could never decide to set,
holding hands with all around, birthing joy to all I’ve met.
I would let my love be found through out the day all go to lead,
being there for those that hurt, I would feed the spirit all need.

So today as I walk beneath the canopy that shades my worry with trees,
the whispered belief is helping me bring peace with the softest breeze.
I paint my life with gratefulness,the power to mindfully see all I meet,
sharing the moments that make up life, the sweet end to mind’s sad defeat.