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'

 

You Aren't Aging

 I love the idea of unfolding.

Smoothing out the wrinkles.

Relaxing and releasing the creases.

Letting what's inside be revealed.

Letting it be read and reread.

Becoming softer and softer.

To our unfolding.

Namaste'

We Are Held

These few words express something vast...

something beyond words which can never be named

for to name is to confine, to draw borders and boundaries

around something impossible to contain.

Whatever name we designate diminishes.

We each form our own version of this entity.

It mirrors us.

To contemplate this is an exercise in mystery.

No matter how close we come, there is always more.

We cherish the clues nonetheless.

"We are held by what cannot be held."

Namaste'

 

It Takes The Right Rain

We need to be reminded of the right rain these days, don't we?

I'm exquisitely familiar with the first stanza.  

Many, many seeds have been planted that did not grow, much less bloom.

"Still, the magic lies in the hope, taking the risk."

I'm still hoping seeds planted years ago will somehow show up.

And I still mourn for those who have not appeared as anticipated and longed for.

"You plant anyway...

You wait,

You see what grows."

This has been my strategy all my life.

I forecast all kinds of seeds and see what grows.

It's how my inner voice speaks to me.

"The waiting is hard,

the risk is real,

so is the possibility."

Love, love, love this...

Think of all the idea seeds we plant.

Some come to fruition, some don't.

We still plant, we still hope, we still believe.

It matters.

Believe in your seeds.

Namaste

 

We All Carry

1. Definition of haunting 

   1. to visit habitually or appear to frequently as a spirit or ghost.

      to recur persistently to the consciousness of; remain with. 

      to visit frequently; go to often.

      to frequent the company of; be often with. 

      to disturb or distress; cause to have anxiety; trouble; worry.
   2. 
      

      In typical fashion, the first thought "haunting" brought to mind 

      was the last one listed here.  

      I'm glad I looked it up because I am delighted by the first four.

      The idea of my past and future self visiting frequently 

      brings me comfort as I know they are on my side,

      showing me the way, when I take the time to listen.

      I confess to some ambivalence about visiting my past self;

      even while coming to a place of compassion for the mistakes she made. 

      Those mistakes have served to humble me in a mostly helpful way,

      although that doesn't mean they aren't still cringe worthy.

      May we all enjoy our happy hauntings.

      Namaste'

      
      

      
      

      
      

      
      

      
      

   
   
2.