About Lansing Day

Writer, Educator & Artist ~ Founder of "Empowerment Heart Song Drumming" for well being and success.

Flow Awareness

With a shift, an inkling, concepts dropped
and I was all of my true name.
I felt etched in moving water.

I streamed me, was as water frozen,
as water falling, water drifting
as fog, as cloud.

I was mini-singular, H2O.

My two hydrogen rabbit ears
danced five different ways,
and my oxygen laughed and sang,
(what a fabulous team!)

Sundried, now as the clock struck noon,
I found my feet and stood.
I built myself of basaltic rock.

Tower of Babel–polyglot soundings
in cyclic revision spoke intelligence,
spiraling I was.

I inverted. I apt dived down
and in my transitions,
I grew rounded and hollowing.

I was Earth. I was Center.
Was Sun at Earth Center

where timeless pinpoint passages
snatched me home again.

O, boundlessness.
I have no name.

Year Ending

Altogether I was walking a familiar path,
when strangely my shoulders felt pressed embraced.
My two feet moved so fast; I felt levitated!

Along my lower spine a surge of traffic came —
particles and waves of sunlight
from the center of the earth.

HI HO! my trillions of cells exclaimed,
stretching borders of their community kingdoms.
To reach to nourish to receive it in.

This is all of why I am simply here, I think.
To stop, to sense, to listen.
Call it love.

How is it that such magic happens?
Bless this place at year’s ending.

dragon fly

a tick of your distant heart
and for me the wheels go spinning

golden spires in evening breeze dip
and you, gripping, reach to the river

what do you see
with your hunting eyes?

what tastes come
in memory?

i see only peace all about,
your wings of splendid silver filigree

tail tilted to the setting sun
many suns within your heart of hearts

do you know i forever run toward you
and to all your dragon friends?

do you feel me smiling laughing
my joy my welcome?

My Morning Star

You see every bit of me, my morning star.
You pour life to me, no matter what.

I need not ask.
I open to receive.
Turn the bucket of me
right side up.

When you fill me with your golden fire,
you bend my edges wide and this
is ecstasy.

Pausing, breathing, I grow into my new skin.

Is there no end to this?
One part of me cries out–please stop!

Another part sings all glory.

Love

Did someone leave my door ajar?
Or there is no door but what I make
by asking?

Light has left me messages, as questions
such as these, and I have nibbled.

This morning rather I gobble.
I take my cue from my dog
who seizes moments.

This morning I have eaten all the bait.
Hook line and sinker.

Where there are no doors, cracks forever are.

Wherever there are slippings
and mighty shifts
love is.

 

first arizona rain

leaning from apartment rail
out from dry haven of a slant roof run
my fingers palms cups overflow full

and i imagine
tiny fractal mouths all
in a pine tree nearest me

bundles of green frond tips
opening to first arizona rain

later, at my returning
the afternoon sun appears
shadowed in a cloud break

every water slick
green of pine
casts ornamental silver

and one hummingbird
dodging drops
edges my head

all wonderments these
gracing a new summer’s day

“The Ant People”

When I first moved to Cottonwood Arizona in January of 2014, I was instantly hooked by the ever-presence of giant hill after hill of Ant Communities. Nation upon nation and so industriously alive. I found myself dropping headlong into the mystery and power of it, of their mini-cosmos worlds.

Down on the rock and sand flood plane of the Verde River I took many pictures, up close.

And finally I began bringing offerings of pulverized crackers.

But alas, not everyone would be so enamored. Some may regard them as pests always, many as a sort of no-thing, even in the wild outdoors.

Might we bring a little awareness and more consideration?

I am remembering my father now, as I go to this place. I hear his voice echoing in me, his mantra (when we were out in Nature together)

“Always keep your eyes open, you never know what you’ll see”.

When I am aware, with the eyes of my heart open,
I see them and I so love and respect them.

They seem powerful friends to me.
These days I’ve upgraded to sprinkles
of slightly outdated, by human standards–raw oats.

I wish to teach the children about the beauty and awesomeness of ants,
as I was rightly taught. Let’s send messages of love and respect
to All of Nature.

Thanks Dad.

http://www.ancient-origins.net/myths-legends-americas-opinion-guest-authors/ant-people-hopi-00927