Women let us name ourselves once more

We who have had our names stolen

Women let us name ourselves

Let us call ourselves

Troublemaker

Defiant

Abnormal

Problem

Rebel

Women

Dancer

Artist

Speaker

Seeker

Women let us name ourselves

Let us call ourselves

Maiden

Mother

Queen and crone

Let us name ourselves

Let us name each other

When we name ourselves

We will hear ourselves

First in whispers.

Today I name myself: Rainbow

Moon doesn’t stay the sme

Moon has cycles

Changes

Different

Always dancing

Appearing

Retreating

Advancing

Light

Dark

Rising

Setting

She is restless

Can’t sit still

Always in motion

I think that the moon has

Attention deficit disorder:

She is

Beautiful

Defiant

A dancer wild and free!!

 

October leaf

Whirling

Spinning

Sailing

Flying

Floating

Falling

Dancing

On the way down

If I were not afraid of driving in the dark

I would take more journeys

If I were not afraid to die

I wold live in the moment

If I were not afraid to go too fast I would dance

If I were not afraid to grow old

I would let my hair become a cloud of silver

And if I were not afraid to fall

I would become a waterfall

Pouring myelf down over the edge

Into a still lake of gold

Intuition is a hand

Reaching upward

To touch

Surprise

 

Truth is a box

On the table

Beautifully wrapped

That we are afraid

To open

Because it could be either

A gift

 

Or a bomb.

 

Truth can explode

Blowing into bits

That which we think

We

Need

Truth ccan blow away

Relationships

Jobs

Homes

Habits

Beliefs

Lives

Lies

The fear of truth is the terrorist

Truth is sitting in a box on your table

Will you open it?

My heart is longing

For silent time

Time to hear

The breath of the trees

 

 

If I can’t breath crisp clean air in December

It’s not my wind

 

If I can’t jump in a blue salty wave

It’s not my ocean

If I can’t dance barefoot on fresh

Pine needles

It’s not my forest

If I can’t sit silent and alone in the

Quiet sun

It’s not my desert

Goddess let us dance

In the oceans

In the breezes

In the forest

In the sun and in the rain

Let us dance

This is our planet

Mussel shell

One shell

Two halves together:

hands in prayer

 

A friendship that contains a lie

Is a cup with a hairline crack

That leaks water drip by drip

A friendship that contains a lie

Is a broken ankle bolstered

With screws that aches when you try to walk again

A friendship that contains a lie

Is an earthquake that rattles

The windows, doors picture frames and seems to cause no damage.

But when the house is later inspected it is found

That the foundation is a just a little bit

Twisted and weakened

I will not claim that I have never lied to you myself

Because that itself would be another lie

And I know that you have lied to me in the past.

The cracks from both our lies can’t be taken away: the cup is glued back together and it looks the same

But please consider the above before

You lie to me again

And I will do the same, myself!

 

When you reach

The top of your mountain

You may not hear

A roaring voice

You may not see

A blinding light

you may not see a burning bush

you may not even hear

a small still voice

because

this is not

Mt. Sinai

Mt. Olympus

Dr. King’s mountain

It is YOUR mountain

and when

you reach

the top

breath, look around

and then come down

 

Annual recital

Jenny, 8, is dancing

Peter, 3 is dancing too.

He stands up in front of his seat

And moves to the  music

Too young or too wise

To know

That this is supposed to only be Jenny’s show

So he moves

Jenny on the stage sees him

But, older, follows the rules

And looks where she is supposed to

But she knows

 

That Peter is dancing too

And Jenny and Peter move

Together

In a wave

Of love

Jenny is dancing

Peter dances too

And Jesus dances with them both

Clouds you are gray and white and soft and shiny

Reflecting the brilliant sun on this afternoon flight

but please please PLEASE

HOLD ME UP!!!

 

One day the sun went green

And that night the stars went purple

And nobody noticed

But the next day all dollar bills

Went orange

And there was immediate panic

\

At forty-one

She cuts her hair

And dyes it a shade blonder:

Rinsing away the Crone

For now

I tell myself that I would have done it differently

That I would have just painted the outside of the box

In blue glitter-paint

And I would have only woven a handle in rainbow hemp

And I would have just carried it inside a bag of soft

Lavender silk

And I would have only hugged it daily.

But I fool myself:

Because I KNOW I would have opened it.

 

Don’t wait until there’s enough money

Don’t wait until there’s enough time

Don’t wait until you are the right age

until you are mature enough adventurous enough

Skilled enough slim enough strong enough perfect enough

Don’t waint.

Don’t wait until the kids are grown

Don’t wait until your marriage is more stable

until you’ve been at your job enough

your house is paid off your health issues hae

been resolved

Don’t wait

Do it now

Put on a bright dress of many colors

A big sun hat

A pair of sandals

Dy your hair purple

Put on that necklace of amethyst

And dance in the rain

And remember that:

You are Light

Life is lived

Day by day by day by day by day by day by day

People are fed

Meal by meal by meal by meal by meal by meal by meal

Peace is walked

Step by step by step by step by step by step by step

Love is shared

Hug by hug by hug by hug by hug by hug by hug

Community is built

Hand by hand by hand by hand by hand by hand by hand

The future is made

Child by child by child by child by child by child by child

So let us live

Heart by heart by heart by heart by heart by heart by heart

 

To Aslan *

Oh lofty light-Lion

Lift me to Love!

 

 

*Aslan, the great Lion, of the Narnia series written by C.S. Lewis

One day I will be

A broken house

My paint faided to gray

My roof shedding shingles

Dr withered grass

Will grow in my yard

My fence will fall down

And I will no loner have a garden

But in my glassless windows

As the wind blows through

I will finally be able to see the stars

Plastic and shells

Wrappers and kelp

Treasure and trash

Coke cans

And driftwood

Twistee ties and polished stones

Waves recede

High tide of humanity

Oh Ants

Your tiny shiny black boies are

Economical

Beautiful

You teach us industry and remind us

Of the necessity for patience and slow

Work over time.

You remind us to work as a team

And not be afraid to carry burdens

We think are too big for us

you remind us to look beneath the surface

and see that under a neat organized garden may lie

a web of your tunnels and cities

I would like to commune with you and receive

your messages of deep wisdom,

which surely must come

directly from the Earth Mother!

I would like to listen intensely for many hours and hear if you have a deep shamanic message for me

I would like to write a profound chant calling out your many names

But you are all over my sink

And I gotta spray!

Who am I?

I like bridges and acorns

And marshmallow fluff

I wish I could dance in the buff

My mother once told me

To save all my money

And I once tried killer bee honey

I like kosher dill pickles and pumpkin ice cream

And I laugh out loud when I dream!

 

When I look at a tree

I sometimes imagine a face.

See the Green Man looking at me

with his leaf-beard.

Would a tree see

trunks and branches if he looked at ME?

 

I’m allergic to war

I break out in song, dance, art and poetry

Poetry breaks the rules,

crosses the line

Poetry lies down in the dirt refusing to move,

has to be dragged away by burly armed guards

Poetry holds hand and blocks the road so the tanks can’t get through.

Poetry shoves flowers into gun barrels,

plants corn next to missile silos,

Scatters sunflower seeds in the property of weapons manufacturers

Poetry makes a list of the names of children killed in war and hands it to the police,

decorates its face with ashes of soot

Poetry dances a spiral dance in front of the White House callng on the goddess Kali

Poery breaks the rules. Poetry has a lot of warrants out,

Poetry refuses to pay its fine. Poetry refuses to give its true name to the booking

officer poetry sings in jail poetry has a long long long record

Poetry breaks the rules.

Autumn sun let me slowdance with you

Just a while longer

I want to embrace

you

In orange

Me in gray

For I’m not at all ready

I’m SO not ready

To go away

On my way to stillness

I picke up a hitchhiker

Who kept chattering on

“you gotta stop at the mall

Check out this website”

And I couldn’t hear myself think

ON m way to stillness I picked up a hitchhiker who kept chattering on

“you gotta have this book this DVD this iPOD. Take this new online course. It’s about spirituality”

And I couldn’t hear myself feel

On my way to still ness I picked up a hitchhiker who kept chattering on

“you gotta declutter. Practice voluntary simplicity.

Reduce, reuse recycle. Do this. Do this do this”

And I couldn’t hear myself be.

So I stopped the car

and the hitchhiker and me

we just sat

and just sat

and just sat

 

peace is a bed with sheets

a drink of water

a hug

a red woolen sweather

peace is a bottle in the recycle bin

a can of beans in the food drive box

a sandbag on a levee

a shipment of needed vaccine

a fields of seeds waiting to be wheat

heat, light again in a home after a blackout

peace is a “security wall” torn down

a handshake across the barricades

a phone call “I am sorry”

a blood donation

a red cardboard heart made by a kindergartner

a walk together in the desert

a tent in an encampment

voices chanting together “yes we can!”

one voice whispering silently “yes I WILL’

and peace is a red woolen sweater

 

The box I fit into

Holds poetry and pottery

Silent worship and sacred books

And science and the

Silenced songs of the wise women.

The box I fit into is not a box but a

Basket woven of trees

A rug braided of the Trinity:

Mother maiden crone

The box I fit into is not a box

But a scallop shell

Spangled with sand

Sculpted from

Sea

Holding salt water

And when I hold it I hear

The waves and the wind

The box I fit into has no lid

But is open to the sky and the sun

I will paint it with glitter

I will never fill it up

.

At the end of my street there’s a hill

Where seven year olds roll and turn the world on

Its side

At the end of my street there’s a park

With a swing where five year olds can

Touch the sky

AT the end of my street there’s a bush

Where six year olds crawl inside

And see fairies

And who said there’s no such thing as magic?

The door can open

But slam shut

So suddenly

Slam shut

So hard

So live your life in

The ins and outs

In the shallow breaths

And yes you will dance

Your short dance

Between the falling leaves

 

 

 

This is the truth:

You can keep your pennies in a jar

Clip coupons until your fingers and eyes are sore

Work the treadmill every day

Drive the speed limit take your calcium

And pay the bills on time.

But one day while you are flossing your teeth

(the correct way)

You will look in the mirror and see

An indigo hummingbird who will sing

Out your true name

Trees: you don’t die a natural death

You just keep growing taller and wider

Do we chop you down out of envy?

 

When I write I am a writer

When I stand I am a tree

When I paint I am a flower

When I sing I am a bee

When you dance you are a dancer

When you play you are a child

When you run you are a rabbit

When you jump you are a bird

When Goddess laughs , She is the thunder

When she moves, she is the wind

When she pauses,

She is silence

When she acts, she is the dance

When we heal, we are Her healers

When we give, we are Her rain

When we touch, we are Her music:

 

And when we love……

We are Her hands

I come from a place

Where the ground sometimes shakes

We would nail wooden bars on shelves

to keep glass jars from

falling and breaking,

make sure we never stacked top-heavy.

I left California:

I now stack my dreams up high

and live my life without guardrails

 

 

Eclipse

Dark Moon

Winter Solstice

Night

In Her Shadow

Her light withdraws

So we can find

So we can make

So we can

see our own

 

Escaping normal needs no permission:

Just snip the cable ties

That bind your wrists

Sprinkle purple glitter in your hair

Fill your pockets with rose quartz and amethyst

Stand on the corner and wait

for the elves to appear

Life is a path

slipper cold dark

we move forward

only

holding onto each other

We are two different strands

I, soft wool

You slick, thin twine

We are braided,

together and tight

 

Joy is not planned:

Joy slides down your throat

Without warning

Like sweet rich dark hot chocolate

Joy is a chocolate truffle

so dark so soft so dense

uninvited: making music inside your mouth

When it’s been one of those days

And it’s the hour before dawn

Your dreams will shake you awake

And hand you a fairy wand

Just know that if you take it

All your wishes will come true

But first you must dance with the shadows

And turn into something new

She wanted to flow like honey

She wanted to buzz like a bee

She wanted to dive like a dolphin

She wanted to leap like a leopard

She wanted to soar like a swallow

She wanted to sway like a tree

And it had come to that –

That it was time to put on her red hat

 

Everything I need to know I learned from trees

Be flexible bend with the breeze

Sink

Your roots deeply:

Drink

Reach

Branches

High

Accept gifts of air and slight

From sun and sky

Be patient: you will grow

And in the autumn let go

She holds a box.  Does she open it?

She shakes it. It rattles. That was all she needed to know. She puts it down and walks away

She looks at it. It is glowing. She opens it. The glow vanishes.

She looks at it. It  looks and feels delicate. She drops it. It breaks.

She puts it up in a closet and forgets she ever had it.

She looks at it. She touches it. She doesn’t need it. She throws it in a trash can

She holds it. It is heavy, too heavy to carry. She puts it down but looks at it for a long long time.

She sits, writes a poem about it, never opens it, but she  hugs it occasionally.

She never opens it but gives it as a gift to a friend. The  friend thanks her. She always wonders.

She takes it home, sleeps with it beside her.     Eventually she opens it.Inside is a glitter which she sprinkles in her  garden

She opens it. Inside is a powder: the dust of the bones of her ancestors. The ashes blow aaway and are gone forever. she laughs and laughs and laughs.

One: Misty rain with a rainbow

Two:  Icy rain that knocks on your window

Three:  Drenching rain flooding the storm drains

Four:  Wind driven cold rain

Five:  Steamy summer rain

Six: Rain after a long hot drought

Seven:  Rain that melts winter snow

Eight: A spring sun shower

Nine: Relentless rain not letting up for days

Ten:  The salty tears of grief, shed all alone

Screen door

On one side

A praying mantis

 

On the other

A preying Siamese

Love mushrooms

popping up suddenly

and in the night

Onion

 

Air

Vapor

Gusting

Floating high

Reeling

Soaring

Sailing:

Fly!

Blowing flowing

Feather:

Where?

Dashing

Crashing

Landing

 

Dare!

Julia Butterfly

 

I sold my clothes

My bed

My books

And dreamed to

Drive from sea to sea

But from the car

Ran to the woods

I saw the ruins

But found

My Tree