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

creativity and freedom

It’s coming to me today in a gentle shout, as a reminder, that we humans are here in this life to be truly alive, to grow and to flower, to cast new seeds–in short, that our purpose in living is to be free to create, to love and to share. And this is a great pleasure, a natural enjoyment.

It is so simple that spelling it out here is as easy as stepping off the shore into a lovely sandy pond, or off an ocean beach to have the toes experience the push of rumbling surf.

Who among us did not simply create–make up stuff and simply play, when a child.

Take a second to feel this experience which you know.

You have not forgotten.
You remember one day of it now.

it is a summer’s evening and school is out
and you run run run with friends
you run and run and run and you are free

your feet do not touch the ground
the sky is beautiful
the sun tells no time

and then after a while
the call comes from the house

one day right now today is the day
do not answer this call from the house

the house is not your home

you are free right now
you have all you ever needed
it never left you

you are free to play
to love
to share

New Moon June 24

on this new moon satellite day
with lunacy seeming ebbed to zero
disappeared

circle light perimeter
faded grey

challenged peripherals

i have anticipated one hundred percent
only wild surprises

cross-tie co-synergetic
miracle

all things willing
come into this loop!

new moon with no
iota of moonlight

playful monkey
shining down

Conscious Creation

In consideration of this statement:
“All creation–whether Quark, Rock, Human, Galaxy–is conscious.”

I am posing this question: “Truth or Lie”?

My baloney meter madly swings to left and to right, and when its motion drops way and needle settles, the answer surprises me. Nothing at first, sort of, as when you shake the Magic-8 Ball and the “outlook not so good” appears in the tiny window.

Negatives are really never satisfying and you shake it again. But still, have faith and thank God for any position! I wait.

Do I see a faint shadow of a figure? Then, there’s a zipping noise in my head, traversing from left to right ear. Zipline? Phoneline? Inline? Online?

Someone or something is laughing. A Buddha-like figure, but with lots of reduced body weight? Something not figured, but flowing.

“And who are you”? I ask.

I am that, I am

Pretty convincing, as long as you are ok with a non-intellectual argument.

Remembering Carl Sagan: Appreciation

A few weeks ago I so enjoyed re-reading Carl Sagan’s book (for which he won the Pulitzer Prize) “Dragons of Eden: Speculations on the Evolution of Human Intelligence”. My first experience of the book was thirty years ago. “I was so much older then…I’m younger than that now.” 🙂

Carl Sagan had figured BIG in my life, with WGBH Boston’s showing of his “Cosmos” when I was a teen, and for me much later–when he was living in Ithaca NY, teaching at Cornell University. His list of accomplishments is monumental! (just google to see)

Who will ever forget his classic “we are the stuff of stars”! When I was teaching at a Montessori School, I played that one out — doing my best to open up to my students the grandiose nature of the Natural Elements, their origin in the “cooking up” death of stars. And how we humans can be grateful in that gift of a star’s death!

Carl really was a poet at heart. He helped me as a teacher that way.

I forever followed much of his work, though I never had a chance to see him in person. When I lived in Ithaca, I often visited Ithaca Falls. There I could catch a glimpse of his and Ann Druyan’s house, perched magically at the left !right on the very edge!

When he died in December of 1996 at age 62, all of Ithaca seemed to fall into mourning. I felt moved to say good-bye and prepared to attend his burial to be held at a beautiful hillside cemetery in Ithaca, where he would join both his parents. Not knowing Jewish tradition, which did not allow flowers to be present, I’d brought along a bouquet of daisies. An attendant at the cemetery gate saw and shook his head, no. I left them on top of a column there.

To resume ~ In “Dragons of Eden”, in a chapter entitled “Madmen and Lovers”, Carl took me on the wildest adventure! In the end (if ever there is one) I understood me and my music leaning brain better; with this, I now understand culture from a new perspective and how the world is imbalanced, largely broken from Nature.

That the two hemispheres of the brain may quite often fight; how the left brain Linear Rational and right brain holistically experiencing Intuitive are, at best, unsettled partners. Left brain iron-fisted, ruling the roost.

I am so very grateful for Carl Sagan’s having been on this planet. His revolutionary ideas will endure. His childlike enthusiasm and intellectual rigor and poetic vision inspire me.

Today I wish to remember him and send him my love wherever he is. He’s hob-knobbing with beneficent ETs surely (inside joke)! Carl, you are still looking out, helping us evolve. Thank you!

Brain Indivisible (for Carl Sagan)

as my two equal hands make one
in reverence in honor in prayer

my left and my right brain do

let’s not dwell too much on it
one hand washing the other

simple voice of reason
simple voice of nature

indivisible

at peace
remembering