Poem: So Real


Walking imagined 

in paradise lands

of well dreamed corridors 

where truths are revealed 

and grandiose bed fellows 

are ready to woo

with long wished word songs 

given as tender 

Where do they lead

these grasped at beauties

created and carved 

from the stone cold wanting 

The touch of their colors 

and scent through the soul

is so real

so real 

Living in drifts 

floating beyond 

It is Paradise 

Paradise 

and it is so real

Duck Rap


There are days where it seems obvious when the universe is speaking directly to us. There may be crazy things like a bird flying into our head,  which happened twice to my friend recently when a crow dive bombed him. Or maybe a group of ducks just walks right up as though you are a member of the family. No fear, just friendly carousing. 

Maybe it’s the fact, try as I might to apply for jobs, nothing is happening. 

I’d like to believe that instead of it being for the wrong reasons, there might be a more important one. And that these odd occurrences have significance beyond nature having fun. 

It could be a wake-up call to pay attention to things we’ve ignored. A rap on the head as a reminder or the group surrounding you if only you take the time to stop.

The universe provides plenty of advice, it’s simply up to us to listen. 

Hieroglyphics 


This was not staged but rather I came across it exactly this way. It is special hieroglyphics and happens to have particular meaning in my life at this moment. It’s those synchronous moments that catch us and remind us that there is still magic if we pay attention. 

Even in a place where we may think the spirits have abandoned, they surprise us by leaving some message to say: we still visit if only you look!!

Poem: Magic Kingdom 


Sometimes I live in a bubble 

a magic kingdom of 

castles and of Kings–

Above me float the dragons

with shimmering 

lizard wings– 

I walk among the forests 

of twisted trees 

so old–

Where endless paths 

hold secrets 

by Druids once were told–

One day while I am

walking 

a stranger do I meet– 

with withered skin 

and tattered clothes 

and long knarly feet–

“Good day,” I hail

as he strolls by

and curtsy very low– 

But as I peek upon his pass

there are three goblins 

following all in tow–

I take this as my exit

I’ve had enough of here–

Time to head back home 

though even there 

people are not as they 

appear–

Unicorns


Last night I was visited by two Golden Unicorns. Interestingly I never knew that such a thing existed until I read about them the next day. They were agitated when I saw them, and surrounded by a glowing light, as though it was just after a storm and the sun was about to come out from  behind a cloud. I believe it was a male and female, but I’m not sure how I know this…I just did. And somehow, I was there to help them. They ran to and fro as I watched them.

They are drawn to gardens I read (but I did not know prior), and there was a woman too that I met. She was quirky and fey, in a greenhouse type structure, but outside too. This woman, with grayish hair, was moving plants from this large garden, from one pot to another. She was making more plants. I was hoping to apprentice with her.

It was a busy area, with many people, almost like a fair. I kept noticing people I knew from the past and present walking by me.

But the unicorns captured my attention. No-one else seemed to notice them. Maybe they were there for my eyes only. Their sighting brings me hope and delight. I know it means good things are in store for me. While it was a bit disturbing that they were upset, I hope I was there to help them too. And together we helped each other.

While I was meditating on their visit this morning, I recalled this piece of pottery that I found years and years ago. I’ve carried it around with me all this time…

Peace be with the Golden Unicorns…

Buried Treasure


There are some folks that search for buried treasure. Some of that treasure may be from sunken ships from long ago that legend tell tales of gold and jewels that went down with these vessels. Divers search and may come up with some beauties, or may find only fish and wood in the depths of ocean, or maybe nothing at all. But it might be the journey alone that draws these seekers, the hope of treasure and wealth and a visit into the past.

I’ve read of current day treasure hunts: wealthy men hiding trunks of money and producing hints with maps given in books that hungry hunters must purchase in hopes of finding the loot. Is it bunk and a lucky gent making his own treasure on unsuspecting innocents, or is there really something hidden waiting for some brilliant detective who can unlock the key?

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For me the buried treasure is of a different kind. It’s not material. In fact, I’ve been making efforts to rid myself of material goods, including ones of “value”. What is value anyway but what it means to someone. True, gold and diamonds have value if one tried to sell them in our market, but even these go up and down in price and they can sometimes cost so much they become: invaluable. Museums must hold onto pieces that are such treasures as to become priceless.

No, things are no longer what I am pursuing, but still my treasures have been buried. I’ve felt rather like some great explorer that has gone on a long expedition to some unheard of place to find my gems. The natives were not always hospitable and the climate often harsh. The tools I brought with me I found, at times, were primitive and didn’t quite do the trick as I tried to dig and dig to find this deeply hidden trunk of goods.

The maps I had were often handed to me by people who had no idea where I needed to be or what I was looking for; they were crude and often in a language I did not understand. So I tossed them aside and plunged on, sometimes through jungle brush, other years in desert heat sucking the water out of my pores. But I knew if I kept going, eventually I would find the goods.

There were years that I walked in circles. And sometimes I would just lay down and cry. Sometimes I had the strength of a tiger and the eyesight of an eagle, feeling like I was closer and closer. But then the treasure would slip away and I would have to start again.

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I’ve learned over the years now, that the maps I needed were with me written in an invisible ink only I could read. They were my maps to find my treasures. When I looked really closely, I noticed that the path lead me through all those places I had gone: the jungles and deserts and around and around–it’s where the trail led, I just hadn’t seen it before now. None of it was by accident.

And all the people I met along the way, they were in the Legend of the map, part of landscape I was meant to wander on path to the treasure. In fact, when I squinted just right, I saw that I actually had found treasure in each of these villages! There were markings showing that’s where some of the jewels were: the people, even the ones I thought were hostile had given me something I didn’t know, a tiny gem of knowledge.

But after walking, searching and following this map–and scrutinizing it carefully, I saw something that brought wonder to me. It appeared I was coming very close to the buried treasure that I had been chasing for so long. Maybe I’m only steps away now it seemed. The map showed it was at the center of everything: bright and brilliant, overflowing with energy.

I’m almost there now. The treasure. My treasure, buried–inside of me.

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Sailing Ahead


For more years than I can remember I have been a single woman. It was by choice and something I needed to do to sort my head, my soul and myself out. Much of my life before these years had been rafting through relationships, on a craft that was unsteady and often leaky. I tried to navigate this flimsy raft through oceans far too rough and rivers overflowing their riverbeds. It often left me on some shore half drowned. And of course any passenger unlucky enough to be my mate, usually was left drenched and overwhelmed by the tsunami that was left in my wake.

But somehow, it seems now I’ve paddled out of the storm, onto a lake of glass. It is smooth and my sense of direction seems clear. I am ready to sail again.

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It is so difficult in our times to find the right sailing partner to journey into the unknown. Even once we’ve learned to love ourselves and to steer our lives, finding someone who can meld their course with ours, seems like finding a lost ship under the ocean. It’s there somewhere, but the vastness makes the likelihood seem so impossible.

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So unlikely that it seems that magic must be involved (as I refuse to do the internet thing). Today I picked one Tarot card to see if a partner would be in my future one day again. And lo, I got my favorite one: the 10 of Cups. Just seeing it you can almost guess that it is positive! Depending on where you look, it has different meanings, but I got it right side up and my book said simply: Contentment, lasting happiness because it is inspired from above rather than being the sensual satisfaction. Perfection of human love. Great friendship. Lasting success. Peacemaking.

So, I guess I will take that to be a yes and hopefully my ship will eventually float into the sunset. And maybe I will eventually pick someone up along the way to sail with me.

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The Pot Of Gold 


Any time seeing a rainbow it’s easy to understand why there are so many stories, songs and symbolism surrounding them. They are one of nature’s magical gifts. 

Created from juxtaposed light and the moisture after a storm, they seem to be the perfect example of yin and yang. One of those beautiful moments in time where it takes two almost opposing situations to produce utter perfection. 

Humans would be hard pressed to make this miracle. So instead we are in awe. Rainbows hold an almost mystical power over us. Appearing suddenly out of nowhere; gracing the sky with a blaze of color, then disappearing like a ghost. 

What did cave men think upon seeing this strange ribbon in the sky? Was it like an eclipse–the stuff of nightmares? Or were they too mesmerized by the apparition ? Maybe this is where the stirring of something greater than us began…

A rainbow can change a mood, bring joy when sadness was lurking. A rainy day will grab a slip of light and give birth to this arc of colors. If you catch it, are lucky enough as those molecules become prisms of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet…then you really have found the pot of gold.