life has a honeysuckle lover

This evening,

as the day ends

Presence  comes to me

envelops me

stills me

and asks me to dance.

I tell him I will let him lead.

whole body excitement to have such a dance partner.

mind cannot know, 

is my Beloved he or she?

something moves me

something touches me

and something loves me, 
all the same.

I am a woman.
my senses tell me

my Beloved is my polar opposite,

or we couldn't be so attracted.

from winter's long sleep

He came to meet my scent

as I express 
from the inside, 

on the wood's edge,
my honeysuckle self.

My Beloved feels very awesomely masculine 

and tender in his love for me.

The music has begun,

I must go now.

oh, the visible

oh, the invisible.
oh, the barely visible.
oh, the visible.

peony

oh peony
shivashakti

my feet were bare
the clover was dew soaked.

when we met
everything became like silk.

you got me good.

the door of the heart

sometimes my personal silence takes on form and color.
I don't know what led paint to my heart door.
It was, however, open.

heart door is only and always open.

for a siStar on the path

Grieving in Love

It is no mistake that of the women friends who I am gifted to live near by, one of them has many years experience with hospice, death and dying, and of course grieving. She has what we both call a 'normal' waking life and yet her dream life and her experience with death is what gives her the depth that brought us into our sisterhood.

Another sister has sat silently and firmly at the upper rim as I plumbed to my depths. She knows and lives her own depth in her daily life. It was this that brought us into our sisterhood.

And another has carried her own experience with death and grief and love quietly, and was changed by it long ago. 

This was my first encounter with the loss of a sister. This is not something I should have experienced before now. I am grateful for the impact of this woman's death in order to be shown the gift she was in my life.

My friend helped me tonight. As I was slipping into troubled stories about this and that and them in relation to her death, she invited me to celebrate what I had experienced knowing Sandra, and to let myself simply grieve this loss of her being here. 

I am seeing into and honoring the relationship that was mine to share with Sandra. The presence we shared is what remains.

Although I have an old recipe for "Sandra's bread" in my recipe box, it was not the personal friendship that she shared with other sisters that brought me close to her, but my willingness to be healed in relationship to her.

 Sandra listened with her heart as she skillfully listened to me and to those invisible ones she called in who guided her work.

 I celebrate her sensitivity and compassion tonight, her unconditional love and her service to Spirit that worked through her.

Her service was both light hearted and intimate. She knew how to get out of the way. 
She has become a part of everything.

Grief, like love, is a place where no stories are needed. 

Both sweep clean the heart,

and leave gratitude in their wake. 

So, tonight I sit and "do dynamically less than nothing" and just remember you, Sandra, my siStar. 

The love we shared and the desire to heal in love is expanding infinitely.

So many sistars have lit candles for you.

Everything is the path.

And of course it cannot stop raining.......

for this kiss

I am experiencing the most intimate love affair with longing I could ever imagine.........and I am not imagining this...this is what the art historians and Piaget called 'felt sense.'

the thread is thick and juicy and direct and makes me smile a bit like a cheshire cat, am I the one who ate the bird?

literature, films, weave through the brain....

and the sight locks it down,

the sight makes the connection, the dame's rocket, the roses, 

the computer screen and the letters that appear.....

Nothing more needs to happen than this. 

longing dissolves in this 

and kisses itself.

the gespritzt weisswein opened the door

and although there is a hint of judgement, 

oh, judgement, of course you too are welcome here......

I am in the room

so Love is in the room

and I still need you.

oh, thankfully.

I still need YOU to share with. 

because....as is humanly possible......

where two or more are gathered together......

in the name of Love.

in the name of Love's fire.

me, this and you,

ONE

the ONE beloved.....

I will never regret sharing this moment with you

as my layered past flows like background music

and I become 

once again

aware of the breath of life.

oh, my

For this kiss I would return a thousand times.

morning breath

each breath is new

tho it is said that what enters me 

could have come from your exhale.......

however it comes,

it sweeps and sweeps

clear and clean,

in presence.

"I is ephemeral,

Be attracted out of the known.

Nothing else

holds you 

like this."

Today I am my heart's messenger.

being received

tell someone how you feel today, sister.
let yourself be received
in shadow and light
and be made whole
in love.

the crone

Thoughts about cronedom are rolling in.

I sense that I am closer to the moon's cycles now, without the tides of my menses. Menstruation was like training wheels, to align me with the Moon, to get a feel for her in my body.

Night will have to fall before I can elaborate on these new thoughts. I feel the inspiration flowing in, tears rise to my eyes, I feel I know something, I receive this experience in a new way, through my senses.