Poem: On Waking


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Pinned

a butterfly plucked

from flight by a

4-eyed entomologist

tacked and hung forever

frozen

Limbs

askew and filled with lead

pumped dry from

sleepless climbs through endless starts

with dry breath and thick lips

Eyes

swollen marbles unseeing

remembering lilting dreams

un-blinking

tears dried from cracked blinks

Deep

beneath fathoms of murky sea

bubbles squeezed nitrogen pop

as spiny creatures swim

too close

Heart

chipped down to pebbles

swallowed by a bird

it beating too fast

in her chest

Hammered

to the slab

by the nightly joy ride

that crashed upside down

leaving the driver

Pinned

with the seat belt

still on

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Crazy Crystals


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Finely you sit
I recall the image in my dream
Drifting upward
Floating as though I was flying
Like you do
At a whim
Rising above it all
Whereas I only made it as high as the alarm

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All those piles of crystals
Like a millionaire’s stash
But only because of my fascination
Imagination
Turning rock into aquatic creature

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And what did you become?
After you didn’t jump
That heart thumping moment
As you morphed before my eyes
The pull backwards
So strong my hair hurt
That hair
The face
You belonged in a zoo

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Wait now
A noise
The deep sucking back
Thickness and lingering
Where are you now?
And the crystals
All gone

Note: now seeing these photos blown up, I am noting there are two butterflies together! How wonderfully amazing… I can only wonder at what they are doing together, so this may be an ‘X’ rated post!!

Chasing Butterflies


I’ve been watching lots of love stories and romantic comedies on Netflix lately. Maybe it’s because it’s spring and we have approached Beltane. Or maybe it’s something else?

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Is love beyond grasp?

I’m no stranger to love or relationships having had my fair share of both. But I’ve been single for a very long time now. Living alone is a beautiful thing with peaceful moments, the ability to control one’s own life and no disagreements over mundane things. This lifestyle has been one of choice and one I have sunk into as though it was a big comfy bed waiting to give me a good night’s rest. Believe me, I needed it.

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Single by choice!!

My marriages and relationships were all different, and while not awful, obviously didn’t meet my needs at the time. Nor did the subsequent relationships I tried (and tried) after. So finally, I threw in the cards and fell into the quiet solitude of a peaceful life.

Friends and family have tried to push me into relationships and insisted ‘the right one’ is just waiting around the corner. And all the movies I watch insist it must be so. These love stories show couples meeting in the most unlikely places and falling in love within minutes of meeting one another. It makes someone like me feel, well, rather inadequate.

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Maybe I am some alien creature??

When I take a really close look at myself and my situation though, I know that these movies are purely fiction and real life does not happen like this at all. Look as one may, it is quite unlikely one will find someone so easily.

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What do you find if you look closely??

Especially, I think, once such as me… Oh I know what you all must be thinking. But no, I really do not fit in the typical box in many respects. This goes for many aspects in my life and why I also have a limited circle of close friends too, often finding as people get to know me, they find me ‘too different’ to become near and dear.

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Always the squiggle surrounded by smooth shapes….

Mind you, I embrace this about myself! This off-beat, quirky part of me–but when it comes to meeting your average partner, well, yeah, not so much. I say this to you all there in my blogging community, because there are times that I wonder if I want to go through my whole life without sharing the love that I know I have inside me. Can I do it? Absolutely. But would it ever be possible to find that companion to share this crazy ride? It might be interesting at some point.

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Woo hoo….let’s celebrate together!!

Life is so random. Matching up with that other quirky/tolerant person is probably very unlikely. It’s like chasing butterflies hoping they will stop long enough to share their beauty with you. Ah and to feel the butterflies again….

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I have these butterflies at least….

Will it ever be so….???

 

Phases


Phases are found in every aspect of nature and life on this planet. Look to the moon and watch it wax and wane in its monthly cycle around the earth. And the lovely butterfly: from larva to amazing gold studded chrysalis and then birthed into flight as a full winged angel. There is the brilliance of Summer painted with color, bursting with food; and the glorious riot of Autumn with trees hung in their last hoorah before the solemn rest of the snow covered quilt of Winter lays the world to rest; and on to Spring where babies and sprouts tenderly crawl and peep to start it all over again.

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These cycles, phases are so numerous, so abundant and obvious that often we simply take them for granted. They beat within us like the ancestral clock that started from when we crawled out of thick slime and our eyes first opened to the great firey ball in the sky. And this clock has not stopped ticking since.

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But there are also the human phases we face. These too may be obvious like the ones where we pass from childhood to adulthood. We celebrate the turning of our phases by weddings, funerals, Bar-Mitzvahs, Baptisms as to honor the next phase into which we are passing.

Some phases are not chosen by us: a divorce therefore making us now a single person, moving out of the once blissful cycle of marriage. Or maybe we were once clean but life, circumstance and inner struggles have moved us into the cycle of addiction. These kind of phases can be painful to pass through, seemingly bottomless pits of despair and pain.

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When we are young these cycles seem to whir by like scenery in passing car, our noses pressing up against the cool window–life flashing by blurred and blending together. But as we grow older we begin to grasp onto phases, realizing that maybe with regards to our own lives, there may be some choice.

Some are surely beyond our fingertips: one can’t stop the wrinkles (no matter how much cream you apply) or the creaking bones. It’s more the direction one’s life is headed and the quality of one’s soul work that may be within our ability to manipulate.

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As we grow older and begin to value the need for quiet and being alone (at least at times), one can begin to hear the song inside one’s own being. All the accumulated time we have spent speeding through our phases and watching the cycles of our world have woven together a story in our hearts. This story, when we sit with it, begins to form a pattern and as it takes shape can clearly lead us down the next phase of our life.

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It is at this point that we do not have to sit back and be unwilling participants in our lives where the world happens around us, or let people do things to us. But rather we begin to steer the boat and head toward the shore where we want to land. This is the beauty of growing older.

So within this phase, I continue to honor the Earth as She tries desperately to follow the phases that She has for millions of years. It is in joy that I watch the birds, plants and animals in their cycles upon this world and the planets, stars and clouds cross the vast sky. And it is with great humility that I now try to move forward toward the next phase of my life.

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Poem: Who Is Listening?


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Lone singing atop thin roads to nowhere

Who is listening?

Yet the notes continue to float

—–in continuous cacophony of sameness

Do you turn your ear to whining discontent

—-battering monotonous bitterness

on unfortunate passersby
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Now occasional beauty

—-once seen dipping and drinking

from milkweed nectar flourishing freely
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Did we look?

See the migrant maidens floating from high

—–mystical angels Goddess winged

Now rare and desperate

—seeking searching
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Do we care?

The endless quest

billowing bustling burgeoning

Growth growth gone

It sings

It flutters

Stand still

Take notice

Or stand to lose it all