Love,
Do you think the burning stars look on in pity
Of what became of their stardust brethren,
Who aim bombs at each other over disputed words?
Who sacrifice innocence over their idolatry?
Or do you think they see the quieter explosions
Of love,
Like ours?
That make living any existence worth while?
I hope they do,
I hope they see the love and dream of when they too
Are only dust particles in the universe reconstituted into life,
Conjuring that which is love.
Tag: Thought
(Here In) Solitude
Solitude,
I sit alone blankets covering legs
As I prepare for night’s rest,
And still my tongue is restless,
Unworn from speech,
My mouth is an empty cavern capable,
But speechless,
Instead it is my brain,
The vessel that has been tasked with laborious burdens,
My mind that has tumbled and wrestled with the day,
And yet,
At the day’s end,
It is my mind that longs for the comfort of a used mouth,
For the melodic hum of vocal cords,
But yet there is very little of this song here,
The mind is alone,
With no accompanying music,
The mouth stays in silence,
But for the occasional chewing on idle tongue,
All are in individual silos of solitude,
As am I,
In my bottom bunk,
In an almost empty room for 10,
Thus begins, and begets,
Life of the minister in making,
Here in
Solitude.
Walking with the Ancestors
I feel you here,
Ancestors,
Wordless you whisper in my mind,
Letting me know I am never alone,
That you reside beside my soul,
Ancestors,
I know you weren’t perfect,
You were human,
Now as spirit,
You are lessons,
Guides,
Wisdom,
Perhaps what I know is not from my mind alone,
But the culmination of your knowledge,
You have been here always,
Now I am just wise enough,
Open enough to see,
Ancestors,
May your continued existence be blessed,
I am grateful for your gifts of presence and wisdom,
As you walk in step with me.
The Collage
Scraps of paper,
Litter the floor,
Cut out ideas,
Waiting to be assembled,
Mind searches for cohesion,
Of images selected,
Arrange,
Rearrange,
Add, subtract, repeat,
A collage formulates;
the image of mind
On canvas,
But a snapshot of the endless thoughts,
Swirling inside a globe.
Voice
Standing solo,
This is my uncomfortable spot,
But this is right where I need to be,
I call out,
And hear nothing,
But the sound of my own voice,
It is this voice that I am tasked with coming to know,
How close you are,
Originating from my center,
And yet how foreign you are to me,
Taking you in,
Taking you on,
I must come to know you
Like a separate being,
Alive, with wants, needs, desires,
I feed you my thoughts,
And must learn to be less self-conscious about them,
My fears threaten to starve you,
As they have before,
Voice,
I must aim to make you strong,
To let you mature with the taste of my tongue,
and the hum of my throat,
Like a babe I must learn to speak,
To have a voice.
Awakening Showers
While in the hospital last year I experienced an awakening. As my treatment progressed, self-care was my primary concern (as a mom self-care is often neglected). I slowly became accustomed to caring for my own vessel as I might a new babe; therein it is fitting that patients here were given Johnson & Johnson’s baby wash to bathe.
In bathing, as I was cleansed with this scent of infancy, under a large rain-like shower head I was overcome by beauteous imagery. I could envision myself, as myself, and also of a diety carefully bathing, and from the soapy froth forming creation, light, and life; A goddess carefully combing her hair and the lose strands that fell becoming new beings, out of the coils- bits of divine DNA. How carefully she would need to care for herself, to keep all of existence in balance. Every move the being made, having an impact on heavenly bodies and their atmospheres, on the weather of the cosmos- all related to her own equilibrium.
I went to then mediate, and write on this. I felt a humbled and yet honored sense of connection as I had been gifted a vision that I might best be able to understand the powers that be, and how to grasp the importance and lesson of caring just as delicately for the life that is me. My heart swells with disbelief and amazement for the images bestowed upon me, which are beyond my normal scope of thinking. I am in awe of how such thoughts came to me, and of considering: why? I continue to wonder of this experience and recognize new meanings for my own being, and for others, for the earth, nature, all of which are in need of care, as even a mother deity would need, in order to keep the everything well cared for. I think of the advice on airplanes to put on one’s own oxygen mask first, and on the idea that “cleanliness is next to godliness”, — I appreciate that in letting myself accept the open arms in a hospital setting, and baring myself to the unknown, I Iet in a light that I had been warding off while not taking the same care with myself, as I had others, and thereby not leaving space for the divine to enter.
She of Letters 