Wildpeace

"let it be floating, like lazy white foam."

or the soft, delicate filaments carrying milkweed seeds.

A peace..."without the big noise"...

We are learning what power lies in silence.

The strength of tenderness and gentleness.

The force of quiet resolve and committment to truth.

"without words"...

(I believe we can find words for peace.

Words like forgive me; I understand;

tell me more; can I help?

Words like: I see you; I care about you;

We are in this together; Let's work this out,

We can find a way.)

"without the thud of the heavy rubber stamp."

Or the need for another's approval.

Who speaks of healing?

I want to speak of healing.

May we all speak of healing.

May we heal ourselves and in that process,

heal each other...so it's not "passed on

from [our] generation to the next."

"Let it come like wildflowers,

suddenly, because the field must have it;

wildpeace."

Let me/us be the field where

wildpeace grows in vigorous abundance,

overwhelming the world with 

unadorned beauty, charm and grace.

It may seem like a dream, yet

dreams are the seeds of deep rooted change.

Namaste'

 

I Get Tired

This is my kind of sentiment.

"We're not aging, we're unfolding.

We're growing...into who we are

under our own tutelage...

not who someone else has dictated we be.

It takes time...

How we're unfolding matters.

Namaste'

 

Every Bombed Village

I wish we could all wrap our heads 

and our hearts around this.

There is no them.  

"They" are us.

No matter how far away or how different we think "they" are.

It's the same for the other-than-human entities 

on this planet and in this universe.

I get a nudge of remembrance whenever I use the word "it".

Who am I referring to as it? 

We are one vast, magnificent tribe.  

Imagine what our world would be like

if we lived accordingly?

Namaste"

 

Again, The Chance

Each day to be given a new chance?

Another something I tend to take for granted.

To fall in love with the broken world?

I want to learn how to do that...

I'm not sure it's something we do...

It might be something we become.

It might require unbecoming first?

Letting go of all the preconceived expectations

and losing all the judgments and critiques?

I really have no idea.

I'm considering options...

exploring pathways...

experimenting.

With as much love as I can muster.

Isn't that being in the world?

Namaste'

 

Unable To Speak

 "love with the perfect skeleton key 

to enter every door of me."

I adore what this conjures for me.

I haven't thought about skeleton keys for years.

That being said, I find myself shying away from

something so powerful and unwanted.

It is infinitely awe-provoking to hear from someone

who has been there, is living there. 

To listen to how life's worst possible tragedy has transfigured her

in such a surprising and uplifting way.

I consider all this world contains

that I do not wish to see or know.

My coward's heart isn't brave enough to look

except maybe as a caring spectator and occasional helper.

Her words bolster my courage.

They lead me to trust love like this is there for each of us

when our heart and spirit is most shattered and broken.

May it be so.

Namaste'

Blooming II

"How we are brief lived in the scheme of things--

with what mattering most being, not longevity, 

so much as the measure of our blooming,

the grace we carry by raising an open face to...whatever may come."

It's helpful to remember this in times like these and always, really.

Life is so fragile and temporary.

I often catch myself falling into the rut of "taking it for granted",

forgetting that it could all vanish in a blink.

Magnolia blossoms are an excellent metaphor.

Many times I've marveled at their splendor one day

only to find brown husks the next after a cold snap.

May we each be bestowed with "grace to raise an open face to

whatever may come."

Namaste'

NOTE: This is an excerpt from a longer poem

With a photo of the tree she mentions, Michelia yunnanensis, now known as Magnolia laevifolia. 

 

Watching My Friend

Grief is being swallowed into countless bodies, isn't it?

The most intimate and personal kind, in our own hearts,

and the grief being carried by our cherished friends and neighbors.

If we're alive, it's a constant.

To be human means its inescapable.

"There are many reasons to treat each other with great tenderness."

I'm thinking we do well to remember everyone we encounter

is in the process of swallowing their grief.

Where the miracle appears is in the ability

to find joy and delight while bearing this weight.

To be kind and forgiving to ourselves and each other

knowing how heavy the burden of loss can be.

And to go on.

Rejoicing in the small and large wonders

even as we feel ourselves dissolving with the pain.

We are such amazing creatures.

I am awestruck by us over and over and over again.

Namaste'