As a child

swing

~

I remember

arms and legs

working

everything into my mouth

pebbles dirt bees

I sang the earth

running rubber knees

kicking the sky swing

standing where the rain just……..stopped

laden fruit trees

~

I was used to shining light in the dark

glasses in the sun

hiding blindness

running ahead

while looking back

I trip upon the truth

~

now that I am on

the outside of the mountain

~

I’m trusting

that

love knows

~~~

~~

~

~

photo credits: http://www.flickr.com/photos/jp_42/4930340343/

Ceremony

kimberly_australia1

~

Down on my knees crawling through the blanket flap cervix

 the intimate waves of heat are in transition but I am ready

even though I’m ignorant and forgetful of this raw intricate birthing

Sweat rides my body in rivulets a waterfall’s surrender

I’m tense, but with senses trusting,

I watch the cindering stones as they concentrate

~

 with love and arrogance

I circle the entrance to myself

and follow them in

~

The speed of the stones passage to dust

 unravels my retread knowing

as their elegant sacrifice eclipses the barriers of skin

 and feverish memories collide zig-zag

unable to escape my hollowed mind’s eye

~

I am everyone pouring through my clearing eyes of perceiving

long occluded by the fallout of the human conceit

where even nature forgets her balance

when time has a mind

~

Vapors are rising from holy herbs full of grace

  Still, the undead congregate here like moths to our pain

every one, I’m learning, has a place in line

and I am naked and grateful on my knees and finally present

almost touching heaven

in the wasteland.

~

“”””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””

A little autobiographical note….While living intimately on 14 acres situated in the poorest county of NY State during the last decade of the past century, I had the opportunity to participate in monthly sweat lodge ceremonies.  The first was on a cold February Sunday…18 degrees outside. I began this relationship with the sweat lodge ceremony after hearing about a local man of Seneca lineage facilitating the sweats, who was being trained by a MicMac Elder from Canada.

During the course of this relationship, through my personal experiences of the sweat lodge and fasting with the Elder, I explored my own personal healing from trauma and our relationship with Divine Nature.  These sweats, and all I learned during this time, were only the beginning of this journey.

I’m grateful for the safety made possible and the care taken by the lodge keepers and most specially to Divinity  for answering my questions and challenging me to ask more.

Neon New Year

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                                               Facing the window overlooking the garden

                                               I am blindfolded,

                                               a veil over my eyes.

                                               Taken into this darkest of rooms, I wonder

                                               If I am blindfolded…how am I seeing in this darkness?

                                               My heart has been opened Continue reading