Summer Solstice

SummerSolsticeMe

And there are lights…

That burn from wax of bees
scenting air with honey dreams

Skipping flames flashing summons
calling ancestors to assemblage

Far away glow in dark of night
assuring steps on safety’s rungs

Specks and dots, twinkling winks
unwavering star ones await our restore

But Solstice Light, the most generous
revelers ringed with sainted halos,
delight in dance and loosened laugh,
create and sing in joy inflamed

 

Author’s Note:

Today in PRISM we were given a drawing prompt called Shaping Consciousness. To begin we were to close our eyes and, keeping good humor, draw ourselves and what we feel inside. After several more steps, here I am.

I haven’t stopped smiling since I drew me.

You see, I am not a visual artist in the ways of drawing and painting. But I am required to do so in this course. It employs Intentional Creativity and I am constantly being called out of my comfort zone and in joy.

I couldn’t be in a state of more delight.

 

What I Didn’t Know

moon2.jpg

 

What I didn’t know is that there must be a fall.
Not the one when leaves twirl to the ground,

a carpet of jewels as first chill fills the air. Nor
one where a catch sends me to earth’s surface

bracing against unforgiving ground. There is
the fall as I reach for something, planned

and seeded and bloomed, then poisoned
with ego, a duo walking two paths, not one.

Not those. No, not those. When I let all fall away,
open my hands and allow them to rest by my side,

clean out my heart, make room for nightfall
to fill in crevices, except for that one simple flame,

yes, there, so small I almost miss it, the Flame that is
always there when I let my worry and fear just sit

until my eyes adjust, I slow my gait and breathe,
and I begin to feel the warmth of that tiny
flame

growing, I allow it to seep out from every fissure for I
am broken open, no longer in control. It is there to light

my way, the way I continue on without map, without grasp, in
trust. I come to the precipice, nowhere else to go, no turning

back, toes curled over the edge, and I push off, leap, and there
is the fall into the arms of Spirit whispering I am enough.