Man and Machine, a tonka

I found the last of
the leaves tucked away under
low hanging branches

too low for man’s and machine’s
reach. I kicked. I stomped. I crunched.

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Author’s Note:

Just a bit of fall silliness today.

I was at a silent retreat for two days. Both days were filled with the man and his machine sucking up leaves across the grounds of the retreat house. Silence. Right.

 

Riffs

Dance
here and now
don’t wait

Lean
into the arms of the Divine
waltz in meadows
elegant partners
three beat whirl
over purple tansy
gazing up to your Light
whispering
Yes

Put on your tap shoes
make some noise
don’t be shy
do it
on city streets
concrete
metal grates
make some noise
make them notice
Light filling alleyways
rolling up
sides of sky high walls
your noise
burst
into the universe

Slip on
your ribboned shoes
weave satin strings firmly
around your ankles
and rise
rise
to the highest pointe
rise even further
find your Balance
deep inside
your Touchstone
remember
you are strong
how strong you are
then spin
spin to throw off your sorrows
your sadness
leave behind
breathtaking beauty
rising
perfectly still
strong
so no wind will fall

Take off your shoes
dig your feet
into precious earth
Sway your hips
shake and move
to the Divine Song
grab a hold
the Eternal’s there
waiting to partner
don’t stand up the Immortal
grab hold
feel the riffs
of a sensuous you
jazzed and alive
shake it out
twirl, swing, spin
embrace

don’t wait
a moment longer
your Partner
waits

dance

Filters

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I see you
not face to face
not directly
not just yet
Your Radiance
blinding all but the reckless impassioned

It’s not a bad thing

I know there are those you gifted us
to lead
light our path
brave ones who know fear
but wholly abandon themselves to your vow

They throw themselves
into your embrace
dance in tango
betrothed
feeling your presence within
held tight against the fall

I must yet see you
through filters
protected
fearful of losing control
hesitant of your blinding ecstasy

Yet you are here for me
immutable in your oath

I see you
through clouds
reflections in an autumn pond
bare branched trees
subduing your eagerness

waiting

a gentle lover knowing my fear
feeling my hesitant release
ready to hold me
your beloved made
eternal

.

.

.

Author’s Note:

Photography always plays into my regular retreats at Sacred Heart Jesuit Retreat House. Part of my day is spent in silent matram walks along the grounds with a camera in hand. There is always a new angle on an old friend.

This one came in the morning as a storm was moving in. The sun was behind clouds, yet thin enough I couldn’t look directly at it. As I passed the lotus pond hoping for blooms there were only two meager ones remaining, shriveling in the cold. Lotus don’t fair well in the Colorado fall.

However, I love taking photos of reflections in water. I clicked a few on my iPhone and when I got back to my room, I found this one. You can see the disk of the sun through the almost bare tree branches behind the clouds, all reflected in the lotus pond.

Solar Eclipse

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Solar eclipse with passing clouds over Centennial, CO, 10/23/14 as taken through the eyepiece of the telescope.

I cannot watch a solar eclipse with my bare eye.
It will burn. The light so bright that gives me life

will blind me if I look directly into it, even when
blackened by a lunar orb. I marvel to see the

unfathomable star dim, wonder what will happen
if all is lost. I watch a perfect raven disk slide across

the flare, between me and the Eternal, dimming
the blaze, if only for a moment in time. A disk

smaller than we are, meager compared to the
raging fire, inks out a perfect bite. Through the

darkened crescent no crack opens to let fire through,
yet in blackness I still cannot look directly into it,

else I lose my sight. I watch through tempered glass
a dance of the universe. Light Eternal darkened

transiently by a brief stay resumes in glory.
This pause of light caused by such a trifle, even

if just for a moment in time, remarkably inspires
hope. My breath catches at the thought of losing you.

Darkness descends over me, burns my eyes with
tears. I freeze not from the loss of your radiance but

the thought of blank space beside me. Our journey,
like bella luna tracing the sky, is only for a moment

in time. Darkness will pass. As we finish our course
we will be consumed by Fervent Fire for we are simply

made from the dust of stars. I am formed from the same
atoms as you making us One after our moment in time.

 

Come With Me

He said1380708_10201495968313048_1733227439_n
come with me
and I did

Stepping into white slippers
flat, satin
giving him my hand to hold
not grip or pull
but hold

We’ve danced a long journey
towards the stars
under the smile of the moon
the breath of the planets
warming our hands
clasped together
comfortable as one

The familiarity of
my fingers wrapped in his
we move
our heartbeats
the music of life
resting for a moment
here or there
one taking the lead
now
and the other
then

And as the years greet us
with challenge or a spark
a loss or gain
we reach together
to bravely touch
the gift given

For we are one
one heart
one soul entwined
a smile
a sigh
we touch Infinity

.

.

.

Author’s Note:

Oh, I’ve been very busy writing and collaborating on a Celtic Celebration in honor of Samhain and All Saints Day. So I’ve made no posts this week! Thank you for staying with me.

And to top it all off, my 35th anniversary is tomorrow. Yes. I am so very blessed. So I am reposting a poem I wrote a while back. Here’s to another 35!

Tay’s Wings

While her brother, the good son, the proper child, was studying arithmetic, she gently placed her wings by the kitchen door. She didn’t want them to get in the way. They never did, however. No one ever really noticed them. The others were too busy admiring Eric’s halo to notice Tay’s wings.

Tay loved this time of night after dinner, especially in mid-October when it was getting darker earlier. Eric was, as usual, self-absorbed. And Mother and Father were always absorbed with Eric.

So when the rain began and Mother pulled the drapes so the cold wouldn’t bother her precious son, Tay slipped down the hall to the kitchen, onto the enclosed back porch, and stepped into the wet autumn night.

She raised her face to the sky letting the rain fall across her face like tears. Only these tears weren’t the hot salty ones that carried grief from her soul to water the soil with the hope of growing something beautiful. No these cold tears rained down her face, cooling her fire. She could feel their journey down her neck and between her breasts stopping just short of her naval.

Tay walked towards the little white gate that led to the forest. When Eric was born, Mother insisted Father build a white picket fence so Eric wouldn’t wander into the forest behind their house. Father did everything Mother wanted. Tay decided it wasn’t because Father loved Mother. She knew that wasn’t true. Father spent too much time away from Mother to love her. Father did everything Mother demanded, not because of the money they would inherit someday when Grandmother finally passed, but Tay knew it had to be because the family name was to be passed on by Eric. Tay never understood why this was so important. But it was. And life in the household bowed to Eric.

The little gate to the white picket fence that was only high enough to keep out uninterested wildlife never interested Eric. He never left for the forest. As a matter of fact, he never went further than the back porch with its windows looking out over the green grass and dark forest beyond. He always sat in the same place staring, never moving. He would get his notebook and write equations for hours on end, occasionally looking out the windows.

However, the little gate always fascinated Tay. Rather, the forest beyond called her from the first time Mother set her in the grass and returned to the porch to sit with Eric. Tay learned quickly how to work the gate clasp.

The first time she got out, she was about two years old. She remembered hearing Mother call to her, but no one ever came to get her. Tay wandered for hours in the field between the house and the forest, afraid to venture into the dark.

Later, when Father returned home, Tay was retrieved and spanked for being a bad girl. It was then Tay decided she would someday leave for the forest.

But it wasn’t as big a deal as she thought it might be. Soon her parents were totally ignoring her and she was free to explore as far and as long as she wished. As the years passed she would bring trinkets and blankets and extra clothes to leave behind.

She found a perfect cove where she placed some books and a few snacks she kept in Tupperware bowls with lids so the animals couldn’t get into them. Leaves and ferns decorated her forest room. Animals would pass by as she read or recited poetry or painted. They would pause and she would welcome them and they would go on their way.

Tonight the rain was falling with a fury she didn’t understand. As she walked, she kept her face to the sky. She didn’t need to see the path. She knew the way by heart. The rain left a sheen flowing down her body. Her clothes became heavy, soaked with tears from the sky.

Tay knew there was going to be sadness soon, a deep sadness that would engulf her. She could feel it. But she wasn’t afraid. She knew she had a safe place to ride out the storm. Her cove would be almost free from tears falling from the grey autumn sky. She would wait and listen. She would know what to do. Something would tell her.

After she changed into dry clothes, she settled into the cove lighting a lantern she stole from the garden house. Father looked for it for weeks after she took it and Mother laughed at his forgetfulness. Mother was sure he had thrown it away or left it at some campground hoping for an excuse to get a new one.

Tay loved the lantern because it belonged to her Gramps. It was rusty, just like he was. But it gave beautiful light, just like he did. She missed him, especially on rainy nights like this one when he would make her hot chocolate and read her poems from Whitman and Dickinson and stories from the bible.

Tay was a bit cold and wrapped herself in one of the blankets. She was opening her book of Emily Dickinson poems in honor of her Gramps when she heard it.

First, two quick pops. A pause. Then one more.

It was unmistakable. Father practiced every week and she would hide in her cove with earplugs not to hear the crisp fire-cracker snaps of his pistol. He was an expert shot and he never missed.

 

 

 

 

Selenelion

The moon glowed red orangelunar-eclipse
and the sun rose above the horizon
both at the same time in the same sky
an eclipse and a sunrise not possible
in the same morning sky for my eyes
to see, but they were there, together
I guess nothing is impossible

I drown between the eclipsed moon
and rising sun, my breath is stilled
between tides that flow from one
to the other and back again
I cannot breathe, I wander in shadows
left behind, I search for your light
a way to find where I am going, what I am
I cannot see the path, feel your exhalation
your touch to assuage the rough edges
filed into my being

You are distant without sound, I cannot
hear your sweet voice, but like the red
orange moon and the rising sun
in the same sky, I guess nothing is
impossible, to find light in the undertow
I whirl in the depths with no hand to hold
I can and will find you