here

yes, it is like that
when stillness arrives
soaking
merging into my trunk
it is like it has found me
it's a joyful reunion
always a surprise!

it can happen stepping into the woods
it can happen sitting on the root above the stream
it can happen in the parking lot or the grocery store
here is where it always happens

here
we all are this "here"
we are this hereing

this hearing being listening rejoicing
it's a ripple response a ripple effect
tickling the heart awake to each tree each branch
each other.

it is how we know we're here.
where ever we are
where ever here is
freed in the stillness, to fly,
one heart to another.



inspired by a poem by David Whyte

a call to temple

yes, i carry it with me
this temple I Am
like a pup tent I carry in my pocket
the call to temple
can be received at any time!

the earth - the wooded forest - the mountain alm
always ready for the temple bell,
for the tent to be set.

it is the nature of women to understand this,
and men,
like John Muir.




inspired by the pup tent temple in a poem by amy ozarow oscar

i'm giving in

what i love is pulling my hair
in the most delightful ways.

i'm giving in
to my love.

a joyful service

i've never been in a writing circle. It is wonderful.
I thank Julie Daley for the inspiration
and for her leadership in creating this space of Writing Raw.


relationship in a writing circle
 is listening and being listened to,
a seeding place,
nurtured by listening and being listened to.

I acknowledge my widening,
listening to and feeling others,
but not losing myself.

like breathing this is,
this writing together is like breathing.
we've created a space to breathe and be breathed in.
I feel us as our words form on the exhale, our listening a deep inhale, deeper and deeper, expanding exhaling into the world again.

yes, it's loving what we're doing, loving ourselves this way, and expressing that which speaks as love from the temple center.
the woman's temple doors are open to us, to write, to breathe freely, to create.

dare i say, for Her sake? for her joy?
i sense the opening occurring as service.......a joyful service,
 to write, to create,
to be woman
in a circle.

a becoming

my life was a mine field.
i was blind and numb.
i gave what i needed,
to get through.

it took one more step
toward what i desired,
to be blown to smithereens.

the shattering
woke me up
to see the light.

in the dark,
I found a self
esteemed to be me.


Mandorla
oil on panel 24x24
Barbara Heile

falling

everything changes,
for us.

i holds on
why wouldn't i hold on ?
to summer
cool in the shade
making little trips to the garden
for sun drenched cherry tomatoes
The sound of boys playing
Always hungry for more..........

i who fears change,
must grasp and grasp
until
the message gets through,
It’s ok, it’s meant to be this way.

each cell
tenderized
shimmering
receiving
the wondrous play
Of the open hand.

a pale yellow iris unfurls one more surprise blossom
an odd color in the company of falling leaves and ripening seed pods.

fallen chestnuts are bursting their seams.
the mauve field grasses are weighed down by last night's rain.
and the native persimmon is sweet.

the seasonal pull is felt
I’m falling,
down to earth.

october musing

i'm learning how closely
letting go and forgiving
dance,
how they breathe together.

the heart widens
in and as what is.

compassionately
we are moved on.