Moonlit Gift

As I lay sleeping

Curtains open to the night

A slice of moon tapped at my pillow

Cool bright touch upon my face

How young I was and

Fearful of the dark

Yet in that quiet moment came awake

In the silent benediction of the light

For a few moments in communion

Listening to the early morning hush

A peace stole over me, and entered in my heart

It will be all right, one day

Just like this moment in the night

Each luminescent touch down through the years

Planting hope and weeding out the fears

Another reason to hold onto this life

And wait out the darkness until the dawn

For years I sat in darkness, silent

Until the dawn

Music!

I followed the notes

Down the musical trail

They beckoned me further

Into the unknown

Closed my eyes to listen

To where the trail would lead

In the end there was this moment

Of blissful fitting in

Reaching

The path may be twisted

In directions unexpected

See the beauty in the bends

How the journey swiftly wends

Through forest and the vale

Making an interesting tale

For me I choose adventure

Off the path I would not censure

The call of mystery and magic

Not the antithesis of logic

Weave them both together

Every challenge will be weathered

Rational mind and spirit cleaved as one

On this sinuous road leading me home

At the Water Met

I searched among the rocks for secrets

Listened to the waves’ sweet song

Trees dancing along the sandy shore

I watched the wind around them twirl

To the gentle rhythmic water slept

An unacknowledged force within me

The music of the water met

Serene and peaceful spirit

Each time they tried to wake her

I sang her back to sleep

Soothing, hushed, and lullabied

In dreams of mists and veils

Let her sleep. She’s seen enough.

The world is tough and worn.

Let us lie here in the ocean

At the water met

At the water met

She can float away the troubles

Send them out to sea

Let her sleep, please, don’t disturb her rest

They plucked and pleaded

Whined and needed

Poked and prodded

Spoke and nodded

Woke her at the water met

Woke her at the water met

With her waking came the aching

Of a thousand years of pain

Her cry echoed ‘cross the cosmos

To a planet far away

The howl resounded smartly

And the stars shook just the same

Came the answer focused

Sister we do hear you

We are on the way

The earth cracked and up the dragon crept

A pond became a lake

The sky flared in brilliant colors

At the water met

At the water met

The dragons are awakened now

From where their spirits slept

The music cannot hold them now

Upon the wind they’re swept

A reckoning past due

The ancient bargain kept

Where at the water met

Where at the water met

Dream House

Why have you been visiting

To whom do you belong

You bring your partially shaded patio

With a view of that partially hidden path

Leading to a garden shed

You bring your comfy couch

The big long kitchen table

And overladen shelves of books

Into my dreams

Across the lazy curving road

A hill arises

Further up the road

Around a bend – is that a garden center

Or an arbor nursery

Why have you come

If not to provide me welcome

For a visit not yet invited

A recurring teasing glimpse

Of a place I might end up

Somewhen

A time of laughter among friends

With the sunlight pouring into

Windows made of dreams

Too Early Too Late

I’m too late to be this early

Too early to be this late

The party is over and hasn’t started yet

Finished and not yet begun

Waiting for the band

Though they’ve played and gone home

I watched them leave as I waited for them to arrive

The anticipation and the post-event letdown

Clean-up and set-up is the same task

Each prop returned to its place on the set

The set of my life

Catalogued objects queued in order of expected use

The curtain has fallen, and has yet to rise

I stand in the shadows, in the dark, in the wing

I wait, and am waiting, and have waited

For the lights to go lower

For the lights to be light

The seats are all empty

The stage has been set

The script has been lost

The actors are missing

I’m too early

I’m too late

Now

Infinite Gesture

I started a podcast. The first Episode is: Dreams and the Stories We Tell Ourselves.

The transcript, studies, and my notes on the text can be found here on my website.

Everyone has dreams while they’re sleeping, even if they don’t always remember them. I sometimes have dreams that come true, and I am not always sleeping when I get them. A big blow in my life came when some of the dreams that had come true for me ended, and my subsequent reluctance to really unfold any new dreams coming my way stems from that. Some of the dreams I have had which came true were in direct response to my being nervous about a big life change out in front of me, such as when I moved to the Caribbean with my at-the-time-husband, and our three young children.

Some of the dreams were the catalyst for a life change, like moving from Saudi Arabia to Vermont with my three middle school aged kids, and starting a horse farm, giving lessons, and raising chickens and other fun farm stuff.

We speak a little about memory and how unreliable it can be, even though we launch ourselves, and our worldview from it. Which led us to talking about the stories we tell ourselves, and about the impermanence  of things, and adapting to living within the paradox of these stories.

There are refences to myth making and the personal narrative, how our perception narrows based on environmental reinforcement, and how humanity is, perhaps, living in a skewed room. We end up touch back on how life is like a sand mandala. We put in the effort, even if success is only for a second, and then put our shoulders back to the wheels. 

What are your dreams?

What stories are you telling yourself about fulfilling them?

I drew this drawing, Infinite Gesture, to go with the podcast, and it’s available on RedBubble where you can stick it on T-shirts, coffee mugs, and whatever. If you’d like to do that, just follow the link below.

Need (with audio)

Washed out colors

Washed out road

Washed out goals

A bleak trudge through these twilight years

I settled into the greys

The hueless landscape without danger

A bland chowder lacking salt

Devoid of spices

Lukewarm

With water colors

I painted my environment

Undersaturated in pastel tints

Life came calling, then, at my closed door

Bringing flowers, and salt water, and glorious sunsets

I smiled politely, found a vase, took a swim, snapped a photo

Life courted me relentlessly, heedless of my discontent

A musical renaissance, an auditory serenade

My indifferent diffidence began to differentiate

A technicolor palette overcame the the somber tones

I danced to swaying tree limbs in a solitary sequence

Let me stay asleep, it’s warm here

Who needs hot and cold, and spices and troubles?

I will gamely march unremarked to the end, I thought

It’s what I wanted, but I did not account for need

Life brought me chocolates, sent me on adventurous trips

Bought me tickets to the theater, invited friends and family to my door

Need showed up silently creeping

Need slipped in under the door

Need required, demanded a brand new accounting

It’s all beyond my control now

The riotous colors, and blossoming flora

The music’s too loud, and I’m dancing too fast

The lights are all flashing, the rhythm is thumping

And there in the center of vibrant toned life

The ocean waves ceasing after the storm

In the soft glow of sunrise when life called to me

I answered the door with a welcoming air

Let the glorious light of the dawn into the room

Spoken Poetry

A Certain Uncertainty

“I am composed,” I thought, but didn’t feel

“Of music and light”

I packed away old treasures

Dusted trust until it gleamed

Rearranged a way of living

An internal exterior sheen

An external interior reflection

Moved further away from isolation

Connected deeper to this intention

What trail to walk to reach my dreams

There’s room to grow

There’s space, here now, to know

The essentially essential still lies within my reach

I can let the deepest, brightest rise

Into the world will breach

Cold new winter snow has fallen

Icing on the cake

The trees stick up like candles

For the birth of a new year

Winter wind will blow and make a wish

Listen to the hope that lifts

Can you hear

Can you hear