dakini force

Fury is boiling in me
The wrathful dakinis are downloading
into my blood stream.

The truth is a dangerous thing, he said.
Oh hell, she said
Let’s be generous!

the fury of a dakini
is fire
and it burns through what is clouded
to clear seeing
and joy

and oh,
such a force in the being
when such energy is free
to be
and to move.

new moon musing in scorpio

I exercised the okayness last night
Joining a spiritedly masked community
in fields of rolling hills
And sinuous stone walls
flanked by long lavender mountains,
1000 faces,
All blessed by the sliver of new moon.

A bonfire
A play
The Trickster was jolly and redeeming
And Venus was soaking into our cells.

Coyote and Caroline called down the wonder
Into our melting pot
Melting fear, judgement, ignorance, martyrdom
Ladling out their opposites
Surprise, playfulness, windows and open doors
Making the connections needed to repair
Or simply make new
What seems beyond repair.

Connections with the wolves
And true leadership
Calling down the wonder
Saying yes to our part to change,
Capricorn’s old man released to the bon fire.

In the dark
Old wounds were seen wholed, healed.
In the dark
How near the holy is felt
In 1000 faces.

time out

ripe with joy
to feel the paradox
the doorway itself
writing about writing
writing about not writing
this is writing
ripping holes in the night of not yet,
of not enough,
of doubt.

my sun
my life
living experience
celebrating the path
writing now of then is no longer a caution sign,
entering through that moment
to reveal this one
to revel in this one
not separate
then or now.

write as it comes
just begin
it's time
it's time to express the gift of time out.



october 23, 2014
new moon in scorpio

inspired by life and some potent words in Rita Mae Brown's poem, Muse.

inside out

with "just" a few sentences
Neruda turned me inside out,

shining from deep within
the heart's fire blazes in the center

cooly reflected on the windows of my moon eyes,
the night's moisture rests on my dewy lips.

retreat

the women retreat so deep within themselves
that their gaze itself is the path you wish to follow,
back to your true self, as man.

through woman again you will arrive in the world anew.
woman's gaze from within her center
is a golden pathway to what is real and true -
beyond the news of the world's play and warfare and latest sale.

take this path, woman, let the papers bleach on the doorstep.
find your way home so they can find theirs.

oh, who could have guessed what your gaze promised,
who could have guessed?














thanks to Sally Croft for the inspiring prompt of 'newspapers bleaching on the doorstep.'

eagle's path

I could be wrong.
How would you prove it, arriving at the edge of my bed with your expectations?

But it feels different from my side.
It feels watchful, this silence.
It feels gentle and trusting........to wait.

I'd rather not worry that I'm wrong to be warm and quiet,
observing quietly my inner spaces,
spaces so deep that images from last night's dreaming remain out of focus, unnecessary, only slightly tasted as an eagle’s path.

If I could put all this into a new form that I could see and know, I would. 
My creative life is changing the form it takes.

quiet under the covers,
feeling reconnection slow and sure.
trusting I'm not wrong.

leaf or butterfly?

in awe
to be the steady pulse,
the ache,
and the wonder.

is that a leaf
or a butterfly?
a shard
or an angel fish?

intuition
or
imagination.
one leads me on
one lands me here.