A visit from Atropos

The time of despair has lost its hold, refusing shaded respite

The grief of absence embalming heart, releasing darkness desperate

Returning the prayers of the wandering spirit, sealed breast and bone

Sending back the wilderness, refusing pleas to roam

The earth collects the debt it’s owed without a loss of haste

Slinking roots memorializing while the stolen life displaced

The plaque above the anchored gypsy reads:

“None are ever lost when their courage is found in deeds.”

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.

Flowing Life

river

We are the water of the river flowing

our drifting paths are going

to a place we are not knowing

but we struggle to stay the same.

Your spirit releases, trickles and flows

Pushing you farther than you think you can go

Creating depths deeper than you know

We are all uniquely one in the same.

Your passion is best when emotions are flowing

Your traveling feet must keep on going

To gain and learn a gracious knowing

Let’s join in unity to be less of the same

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.

Moo-Vee Knight

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I wish I were Zuzu’s petals tucked neat within trouser pocket

Or I’d be the photo of Elise and Richard, kept within a locket

I’d sparkle ruby red like the Oz type pair of shoes

Or maybe be the spikey hair of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

I could change my name to Wilson, wouldn’t that be a ball?

Perhaps be a still life in carbon, hanging around on the wall

Oh, to be the infamous sorting hat, four houses I will place

Or to be the heavens of Hollywood, every dream made by a face

What I wouldn’t do to see the world from un-animated eyes

to gain a differed perspective, be unlimited in my disguise