creativity · life · poetry · spirituality · writing

Blowing Off The Dust

Flagrant this disregard,
this blatant indifference

I have come before you
broken and desperate

and been received with
loving compassion, openness.

“It was not I who abandoned you” –
the words still echo in my heart.

In shame, I hang head, vow
to prepare my spiritual bowl

to resurrect a prayerful practice
to know once again the light,

the life that fulfills when
self is offered up as instrument.

(Ragtag community has offered the word “flagrant” as prompt today.  I have been carrying around scraps of ideas for Reena’s Exploration challenge – featured image.  This poem emerged.  I do not consider myself affiliated with a specific religious body, but I do consider myself a woman of deep spiritual faith.)

poetry · recovery · spirituality

Walking Meditation

Under the umbrella
of green-leafed branches,
I pray for insight, for healing

With the river to guide me,
I walk, mindful of nature,
listening, heart open

As I breathe, I acknowledge
limitlessness of sky, life-sustaining
forces of earth, sacred steps

I sacrifice this separateness
to honour the whole, make room
for spirit, numinous connection.

creativity · culture · dreams · poetry · spirituality

Dreamers

While babes slumber,
calm, unconscious,
dreamers manifest

Goddess power –
pray for their ill,
harness a creator

an ancient dwelling
(ignore the presence
of trios – ascension

a slow plod) – choose
to honour the arrival
of beauty’s essence

the light of healing,
creativity expressed,
illuminators, artists

Grace encompassing
compassion, nocturnal
inspiration honouring

the aged, the ailing,
all beloveds, respect
for this blessed life.

(Image: Pinterest)

adversity · disability · life · poetry · spirituality

Application Submitted

Eager, I am, but limited,
somehow stuck in the past,
revisiting old disruptions –
as unmanageable as before –
Why do I seek validation there?

Vow to write a solution –
end up re-committing –
am I growing extra skin?
naiveté blocks me –
am fascinated with fame

Want to believe I am magical,
possess gifts that inspire, but
I am no more than a circus act,
possess the skills to mesmerize
only the young, uneducated

lack the resilience to adhere
to protocols, abide rules –
destined to repeat mistakes,
easily persuaded to take on
the guise of others – no matter

how poor the fit – will don
unsupported risks, expose
insecurities – for sufficient
flattery – have no boundaries
to counter this need to belong

I am principled, but socially
awkward, have prayed to
a higher power, proposed
promotion – need approval
to make this fractured life work.

(Image: bellapetite.com)

 

Family · Grandparenting · life · relationships

Welcoming New Life

The world awaits, Little One.
While you slumber in your
watery cocoon, loving arms
ache to hold you, adoring eyes
long to behold your perfection.

You are a miracle, Baby Child.
The mother, whose body
has sustained you, craves
to smell your newborn essence;
a father is bursting with pride.

Fear not the process, Sweetness;
darkness will give over to light
and the chaos will subside, and
your lungs will embrace the air,
and you will find your voice.

You are promise, Darling Girl.
You are past, present, future;
revival of hope; an angel.
Hearts are ready to receive you,
and the meaning you bring to life.

Have faith, Precious Baby,
that this journey you embark upon
will be filled with love, and comfort
and support, and that the gift
of your being is a blessed thing.

Come home to us, Beloved.
So many are praying for
your safe passage, and I,
for one, already hold you dear,
my darling granddaughter.

 

creativity · Family · life · memoir · spirituality

Believe It To See It

The town I grew up in has a large park which borders a river.  I have many fond memories associated with this place, and when life gets too challenging, I return to the park to renew myself.

After my second marriage ended, I took to walking the park daily.

“Are you finding your inner peace?”  my then ten-year-old son asked me one day.

“Something like that,” I responded.  “Would you like to join me?”

He said he would.

I had a ritual that I followed on those walks.  I would start at the base of a big old tree, whose trunk leaned out over the water.  Under the umbrella of green-leafed branches, I would say a prayer to the seven directions, each day asking for healing and insight to guide me.  John joined in with me.  Then we walked, mindfully aware of nature around us.  We kept conversation to a minimum, honouring the sacredness of the moment.

Half way around the park, we stopped to sit on a park bench facing the water.  Here, I guided to John to breathe consciously, releasing any tension.  Directing him to expand his awareness, I suggested that if he could let go of his own boundaries, he could feel at one with nature.

“What does that mean, Mom?”  he asked.

“Let yourself feel that we are a part of everything.  Let the breeze flow through you.  When the birds sing, feel it vibrate within you.”

He fell silent.  Then, “Mom, if people did this all the time, we wouldn’t need anger.”

“It certainly helps to manage it; it’s true.”

We walked a little further, John lost in thought.

“I don’t know how to say this,”  he began.  “But do you know how people say you have to see it to believe it?”

“Yes?”

“What if it’s the other way around?”

“What do you mean?”

“What if the truth is that you have to believe it before you see it?”

“Do you think that is the truth?”

“Yes, I do.  I think there is a lot out there to discover, but most people can’t see it because they don’t believe.”

“I think you are probably right about that.”

My son, the philosopher.

(Image from: misshauntedmoonlight.blogspot.com)