MUSINGs
"Navitri" (2017)
Unmistakable love.
Unbreakable, unshakable love.
Hot, liquid molten magma love
oozing into corners of my heavy heart.
Ecstatic, ethereal thumps
entwine our bodies into one.
Warm embrace
Encompassing all of our true nature.
Rooted into the sandy banks
of Mother Earth.
Shakti, goddess slowly giving birth
to love that unfolds slowly,
deeply, running wild
with the river's current.
Light body baptism,
our holiness is revealed.
Basking in the warmth
of the orange sacral glow.
Magnetic pull
inward, deeper.
Here. Right. Now.
Diving into the moment.
"He: A Gift from God" (2018)
Forgive me if I poke and prod
At tender places
Bruised and battered spaces
That you have silenced
And forgotten
I see right through
I hear your wounds
With a throbbing voice,
They demand to be heard
I listen
Not to dissect or discern
But to allow them their turn
To feel
To heal
I’ll remind you just how real
& alive & vulnerable you are
Love lingers in touch
Love heals in moments of trust
When you let love in
Like breath to your lungs
When you gasp & shudder & moan & cry & you’re questioning
whether to live or die
Remember
Love lives here
It has always lived here
It is always right here
It is only you
That has forgotten
"Frida Mullein Pour" (2017)
Death, I salute you as you creep in slowly, consuming the illusions.
Gnawing. Gnashing.
Grinding teeth to bone.
Pick me clean. Unveil me, Whole.
I return to Her, blanket of flesh to stone.
I decompose.
I melt with the snow, absorbed as fluid winters.
What am I now,
but one beat upon the earth’s drum?
One rhythm in the recital of Her grand, vernal hymn.
Underneath.
Within the warm earth,
life thrives in rich, black dirt.
I am a seed & I am full of vibrant dreams of Life above the soil.
"Grand Mere" (2018)
sitz bones to sand -
glittering fragments of stone
compose the throne
on which my body-home resides
Inside,
I delve within my mind
To the stories, the times
These dunes were climbed
Each crystalline quartz point
a shimmering mirror
A looking glass portal to past & future
The present rings in rustles of
rust-colored leaves
Whispers sing in ochre leeds
Their slender forms respond
In rhythmic wind-blown dance
I stand,
surveying the empty beach
waves lapping, calling,
They beckon to me,
“Come home...”
The Lady of the Lake smiles from underneath.
Dwelling in the Cave of Jewels
How deep?
How deep...