I am unfurling from a seed, with tiny leaves of green

New veins of life reaching towards the sun

I see roses and black-eyed Susans sitting in the window

Beyond the pane, clouds and humidity linger

I am uncurling from a past position, building a heartbeat

Regeneration of appreciation in this situation, getting out of my seat.

To my left, a sleeping grandmother, to my right a sleeping grandfather

The ancients among us, the rituals of long times passed.

The stories we’re woven from and will shoot from our hips

In an instant.

Our bellies prepare for dancing, our mind for the breaking fog

for exploring within it.

Within fog is clarity in the mind’s eye

Come and sit next to me

hold my hand and give me your ears

I will give you my story and you’ll give me yours

Our trains may pass in the night,

but I can still smell the memories we’re going to create.

The luscious, delicious lore.

This is what happens when you say yes.

Say yes. Say yes. Say yes.

Strength and Weakness YES Bongo Loose(art by Peter Loose and words/drawing I found on the interwebs)

A Penny

A tiny penny is a wish

I am a tiny penny

a dream piece of the stars

a flicker of time

a fleck of dust

a sparkle in a young child’s eyes

a bruise you felt on your knees

a handprint in the sand

a mark on your car

a grain of salt in your teeth

a rush of delight on the first day of Spring

a feeling of regret as the year has passed you by

a line from the panties you just had on

a tiny penny in a fountain

my hand

Hazard, Kentucky’s up on blocks

Coal’s everywhere, coal’s staining their socks

The swollen river North Fork rolling through the cracks

Headed on to Whitesburg, crossing RR tracks

The Sun’s gone down and I’m filled with doubt

that most’a those people there’ll ever get out

No news here in this part of the world

about the lives and the deaths of miners all burled

up in this river valley between tall hills

filled with coal and a history of chills

http://www.coal-miners-in-kentucky.com/TheLastGoodnight.html

Today there was talk about blessings and I put in my two cents, since really our opportunities could be considered blessings, but also the fact that we’re here at all could be considered one too.  In thinking of this, here is my poem for today:

As I sleep in a warm, soft bed, entangled within the legs and arms of my loved one

a blessing sweeps over me, a feeling of great divinity.

As I walk into a dangerous situation, knowing I may be arrested or even killed, fighting for equal rights,

a blessing sweeps over me, a feeling of great divinity

It gives me pause, to think those two moments can give me the same divine realization.

I pray for love and courage to be realized every day, every moment, for every one in their situations.

To realize we are a unit, not a cluster of individuals – Make your eyes see one big Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Whoopie who We could be!

Sliding into the waves you see?

We could change the way We treat We!

Maya AngelouNelson Mandela

I am forgiven, myself, forgiving myself

For some things take longer to accomplish than the patience within me allows

My judgement is suspended for I said I’d write a poem a day.

The last one was 2 days ago and I refuse to feel remorse.

A while ago I would have riddled myself with guilt and poured on feelings of inadequacy,

but because I’ve given myself room to be imperfect,

my imperfections feel more right, they are okay, they make me smile versus frown.

My dreams realized may be just the life I live – in the moments where I forgive.

IMG_0171

Thank you Dearest Bill for always reminding me of Coyote magic and the power of counting to 10, the strength in being what is, the love in living love and acceptance of the day as it passes and becomes another day.  I have thought of you so much in the past few days and I feel as if your passing was what was supposed to happen and that you were smiling all the way into the next form you’ve taken, whatever that is.  Your energy lives on in so many people as the healer and the figure of inspiration.  I miss you today and send your spirit my thanks and blessings.

As the sun rays were warming the trees in the morning of Colorado skies,

I was kissing the air in thanks that I was still breathing.

As the snow effortlessly perched on top of all the green things,

I walked around the block, ran a bit, then slowed down to be grateful once again.

As the woodpecker pecked at the top of a light pole,

I stopped to gaze and wonder.

As this journey moves ever further,

I realize that it is where I have never been.

As I begin to understand the little truths and the big questions

I ask more and more and will play with a spring in my step,

as the snow perches on a blade of grass,

to melt,

to evaporate,

to become snow once more.

snow in denver morning 4:3:15