grounding (for Deepak)

aboriginal pre-literate
innocent and forever renewed

(as if flash flashing
back and forth to heaven)

one hundred trillion cells of me
notice i am noticing them
i send them all my love

i am walking tree
with fibrous light as roots

i am sitting stone
galaxies within galaxies
infinitum me spinning

my body’s the dance of the universe

do you tell me I am anything less?

do you tell yourself
you are anything less?

New Moon June 24

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

circle light perimeter
faded grey

challenged peripherals

i have anticipated one hundred percent
only wild surprises

cross-tie co-synergetic

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


at peace

Lift Off

With a lift-off intention I jumped up to fly.
I was something like a grounded tree.

Taking flight was so very hard.
My guru counseled me.

With acquired implements
I tried to cut each stitch holding.

My intellect in truth was rather dull,
though Spirit bolding.

In hieroglyphic manual page 222
I intuited a hint, an incantation true?

Here for my scheming:
Fly O Fly O Fly O!

I recited it fortissimo for a week
in lucid dreaming.

Then my weighed body, my un-weighed soul
together recalled I suppose simply that God,
as for anyone, had intimated flight for me
(gratuitously gave).

In classical mind’s eye I spied
Icarus sploshing in a wave.

Then entered Aboriginal Self.
Whoa, Hello! I said,
shocked at showing

I know…. I know …. I know….
with ease — be natural, be still.

Unequivocally state
(this way make my start)
I need help.

I believed it
I spoke it

and then I sailed up and away
with surrender in my heart.

On Play (play on)

Just anticipating the first tap of the keys…what now I see is a “j” happening…has my heart rate jumping and my breath shorten. Am I excited? Yes, and quick place a governor on this awakened engine, and I’ve hardly started in my playing.

For me, stillness is the first condition of play and letting imagination roam about, like…. like….?

When I give permission and unlock the cage–Imagination simply roams landscapes. I move my fingers and spontaneous tap.

“What do you have to teach me?” I ask.

Stillness is the reply.
Breath awareness is reply. I breathe.

My one hundred trillion cells become aware that I am sensing their symphony of play. What a rock party. Who’s this? Beethoven dancing with Sylvia Plath?

I pick up on that event, as I see now — cells around my heart area are cheering their exit, to the veranda where they talk who knows what. Privately.

Can this be all there is? Playgrounds in micro?

Boom! I should have suspected the Milky Way Galaxy would insinuate itself and drawn me into death spiral.

Feels kinda good, like when I empty my breath to the bottom and sink through the azure breaking light of deep ocean, my two arms splayed out. Sinking slow. Loving. Completely check out and checked in at the same time.

My dog Mojo in his wisdom has just sighed. I hear and say Thank you! I like how he calls me home.

He’ll get his walk in about one hour. He plays as only he knows. I have no clue about that. He does bounce like Tigger. And that’s a wonderful thing.


Gratitude felt like a handshake coming back.
A single leaf called out
making her echo in me.

What a family this is!
Now I have ears!

In every cell of me,
a Universe.

In every Universe of me
magnificent trees
all singing.