Shadow Bones

wildflowers

I see you there in the shadows pretending you don’t see me.

I’m not there to hurt you, but to love you without question.

To you that may seem an impossible task because “Who’d love you?”

I’ll take out my soul light, holding it high in the air dissipating

The aura of unworthiness, the wall of hostile protection

The child that feels as lost as I have felt

I hear your cries in the dark as the nightmares scream

I’m not there to harm you, but to comfort your fears tenderly

That may feel unlikely considering the state you’re in

I’ll hold up my soul light, filled with love so the dark can’t have

Your rebirth into fruitfulness, your abundance like pomegranate

The child that screams with a voice now heard, like mine.

I feel your heart fighting as fiercely as a cornered animal

I’m not here to defeat you, but to support your victory

You believe you are broken, but I see the power of your will

I’ll offer my soul light as your shield as you fight for you

For your dreams, happiness, love, peace, your very spirit

That child that is frantic to stay safe knows me

I can’t offer redemption. I can’t even offer you a path.

What I can give you is my deepest support as you traverse

Acceptance of your divinity, your understanding of love

Your worthiness of compassion, your gift of kindness

I offer my soul light so you can find your own.

That child knows I am free, release the regrets

Bloom into the garden of unique flora and fauna.

Here, have some of my seeds.

Radical Gratitude

stained-glass-hearts-whimsy

What if we gave everything we received,

More notice than a checkout clerk gives

To your weekly grocery order that happens

To click, beep, clack, whir, and push its way

Birthing into the cocoon of recycled Christmas trees

Or reduced trees that once held dominion over Oregon.

What if we examined every aspect of our day

Giving more attention to the opportunities

Written on billboards, bumper stickers, back alleys,

Cardboard box fragments held by sunburned bits

Of human scattered at the exit ramps like accident debris.

But, there are no accidents. Life doesn’t live itself.

It must be championed, battled, chewed up,

Swallowed whole-heartedly with passion to fire it up

To the blazing hot necessity of burning away

The unnecessary baggage that we all carry.

Let us practice enthusiastic radical gratitude

For laughter

For joy

For peace

For balance

For opportunity to try again tomorrow

Radical gratitude for being able to witness this moment

This creation that we’ve all been gifted

That we all share with beating hearts filled with awe

Peppered with wonder, wondering why we’re here.

Love Lives

The place that is welcoming

is the home where love lives

Not only where love is,

but where it is cherished

nurtured, adored, revered,

but most of all,

given fertile soil to blossom

overly abundant blooms everywhere.

Curtis C.

I felt it before I heard or saw it.
A wave of hostility colored in anger
darkness creeping over hearts
while the warm sun kissed the peaceful.
“He’s white!” I hear her scream.
The grandson, after exchanging
the pungent presence of racism
committed to his violence
flailing at the seat-belted man
Releasing his hatred through his fists.
“STOP! STOP!” I yell at the assault
I bring the confused woman and her beau
water in plastic pink cups
The sun should be clouded over
with the bitterness of repulsion, but it isn’t.
 
The moving van waits
The ministry van drives away
The cops come, take names
forget it even happened.
 
My stomach is repulsed by the waves
still emanating from the gathered group
still aching from the pride fallen dead
in the gutter littered with foul words.

Wisdom Seeker

 

The ancient wilds have reached into her spirit

elevated her to endless horizon

Baltered in rhythm with the tides

shrieked, pranced, dashed, danced

Arms raised in worship to the Dark moon

Skyclad but for the whimpered light

of that which compeled and sent her breathless

willingly swathed in the darkness

re-birthed from the warrior to the Wisdom Seeker

the preparation transitions from mother to crone

I don’t want to love you

valentine-wallpaper
I don’t want to love you
at least not the “you” they think you are.
I want to dive into your darkness
swim through your tears, fears, rejections.
My compulsion is to wrap you tightly
within my light until you come up
gasping for air in the dew drop morning
I don’t want to love you
the way you’ve been told to be.
I want to chew through the anger
shredding the sinew and skin from bony lies.
My desire is to offer you haven
where you can release everything wrong
with them seeing you unconvinced
I don’t want to love you
through someone else’s eyes
I want to experience your breath
when you allow yourself personal authority
with words of expressive power
I don’t want to love you, but I do.

Be At Peace

 

lighthouse

Be at peace, my brothers and sisters,

shine your beacon where you roam

Know your power, my bloodkin,

Let love call you home.

Be at peace, my beloved friends,

Bring our spirits passions kept

Be at peace my loved ones

Be at peace with your deepest depths.

Retreated being

I put on my running shoes
only to find they force retreat
Bluntly I discover by accident
The consistent measure of defeat
Savaged from a life’s cloak torn
Returned to earth from whence born
Finding little comfort from the scorn
Stripped of skin a soul’s been shorn
With little shelter from the storm

I share the flight of winter fowl
Bundled up beneath my cowl
Staring gray in noon time glare
Rejection of my humblest prayer
Reduced, returned, retaliated
Longing for my spirit sated
But that dream has dissipated
Was what I dreamed through joy
A beloved story of girl and boy?
Wake me up so I can breathe
Love and laughter, soothing peace

Misplaced Gate

The trees do not whisper my name in the voice of a billion stars.
The sun shadows my upturned face denying my gate
My cries of desperation, clinging to the echoing melody fall away
Dripping in autumnal colors, released from the iced earth;
A presence not present, to my dismay, but somewhere waiting to be unpacked
Unearthed from the cardboard grave where its been held hostage
By my unreasonable, childish demands, that I should not change.
The place my spirit abides is dark to me because I’ve become unplugged
I’m looking. I’m searching. I must find my outlet so my spirit can remember
So I can remember the laughter of water, the chatter of dust, my place in the Universe.