A LIFE

Dark Angel why him?

He will not cry for himself –

I will cry for him.

So many on this path -

Focus lost to the mayhem -

Of the ego-born half dreams.

A life lost to drink.

A Squandered potential –

Light Angels, weeping.

Someday change will come.

Someday Light will tip the scales

Relative -  AWAKE !

 

Hope and prayers continue for my relative lost at this time. 

We have all at some time or another been in that dark place. 

Without judgement and with love – across the Milky Way and back:

I commend you to The Creator of Universes. 

PRANAM TO THE GURU

How I love to be out in the night far from any city lights.

 

Deep in the woods -

 

Deep in the desert -

 

 On the oceans’ shore -

 

Deep within my Soul.

 

Unfettered by the false light of incandescent bulbs,

 

As though day were better or more beautiful than the night. 

My Beloved is there hiding in that dark.

His eyes shining through the stars

Deep in the woods –

Deep in the desert –

On the oceans’ shore –

Deep within my Soul.

Hiding behind the racket of daily activity,

He waits for me to come into the quiet of the night and find him.

And find him I shall.

His eyes shining through the stars

Deep in the woods –

Deep in the desert –

On the oceans’ shore –

Deep within my Soul.

With the breath as my steed, I ride him down

As He tirelessly has sought me out, now I seek Him.

What a fool to be afraid of the night.

The dark blazes with true Hearts’ Fire

Deep in the woods –

Deep in the desert –

On the oceans’ shore –

Deep within my Soul.

A thousand thousand pranams are not adequate

The embrace of The Beloved brings true day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Into The Quiet

 

Going deeply into the quiet,

OM washes over me. 

Divine Mother appears.

 

 

 

 

WATERMELON

 

Sweet juice of melon,

Syrup running down my chin.

Spitting seeds in soil.

 

 

A small ecstasy

Of taste, texture and flavor.

A simple pleasure.

 

 

The Innocent joy,

Eating a piece of melon.

With full hearts' Thank You.

 

 

 

We Are The Spiral ღ ღ ღ

 

We are the spiral.

Love is flying from our hands

Only God can see.

 

 

We are the spiral.

Love is flying from our hands

Why can We not see?

Wanting to find Love

We don’t think to look within.

We are the spiral.

.♥.✿ ´´¯` •.¸☼⁀ °♡  ☼⁀°♡  ~ `*.¸.* .♥.✿ ´´¯`•. ¸☼⁀° ♡

 

THE MOTHER TALKS TO HER CHILD

 

In the dark of the nite,

Water pouring out of stone.

Worlds juxtaposed.

The long still hours of nite . . . stretch on . . .

And I sit looking out my window.

 

I see the Moon behind the pine tree.

 

The Moon is whispering my name.

I had not known this name for me.

“This is a new name.” I tell her.

“It is an ancient name.” she replies.

This is the path I chose before I was born.

It is a hard way with little mercy.

The rocks cut my feet …

The people cut my heart …

Moon tells me:

Walk hard on the rocks so they know you are coming –

Walk gentle near the people so they will not be afraid.

 

The Moon has called me by my True Name.

I tell the Moon, “I feel fragile, weak insubstantial.”

“You are strong.” The Moon tells me.

“I may die along the way.” I moan pitifully.

“The way must be walked.  The commitment has been made.”

Moon sighs so sweetly . . . a mother patient with her child.

Spirit smoke gathers ‘round my feet.

Looking out the window,

The Moon has called me by my true name.

Puzzle pieces clicking into place.

It is almost time to fall.

Walk hard, walk gentle. . .

“Walk hard, walk gentle.  Then fall.

Do not ask for childish promises of safety.”

Shall I fall head first?

… Or maybe feet first?

Far better heart first

  I made this poem into a book

it was my 4 year give-a-way some years ago

 …. It was taken from life experiences

In The Quiet of the Night

 

 

Sleeping well and deep in the quiet of the night,

Even the near constant traffic on the Sepulveda

Has chosen this hour to slumber and rest.

I wake.

 

Stretching the body

Stretching the mind

Now pulling back and returning to the heart

I love you …

Love you …

Love …

 

Before the day intrudes

With worries

With concerns

With aches and pains,

There you are Beloved.

 

Breathing,

Climbing the spine.

Breathing,

Peace.

Breathing,

Joy.

 

Now the rest of the world is also waking.

Dog nails click on wood floors-

The distant sound of jet engines-

The whir of traffic on Sepulveda.

Breakfast for the dogs. 

And Sunrise for all of us.

 

 

 

His Eye Holds Stars and Moons

It seems there is a fire inside,

And this fire is hungry and beautiful.

I want this fire to consume me,

But the desire I have to be consumed

Is like water dousing the flame.

 

It seems I have been asked to dance,

But the steps are intricate or something else,

As they require I be still.

How does one dance

When there is no dancing.

 

There is the humiliation of being the fool

Chasing after rainbows

Whose beauty mesmerizes me.

When I should be building up equity

And staying married to the man with dead eyes.

 

So I burn

And I dance

And I chase.

And then I cry

And then I cry.

 

But here is the magic:

Sometimes the tears are suffering

But sometimes the tears are Joy.

Sometimes the fire does consume me

And I am whole.

Sometimes the dance takes me

And I have not moved.

Sometimes the rainbow dazzles

And I look into the eye of Love.

 

What is there to do?

Except continue on The Way

My Beloved calls to me

His eye hold stars and moons

And universes of stars and moons.