I am that form of a seer

in the midst of migraines I have

often experienced states of 

euphoria

in my worst pain I have

experienced profound joy

in such a paradox one day I

thought

"I know nothing,

I don't get it, 

I know absolutely nothing"

And then I heard a chorus of voices

sounding not unkind and rather joyous

saying

"now she sees"

We live in a world of pain and of joy

I am amazed by the transcendence of the human 

spirit and dismayed by the 

violence of our evolution.

We seem to live in a world of 

both heaven and hell.

Yin and Yang

motion and stillness

opposites that are a part of each 

other

I don't get it

I no longer expect to

but it is fun to try

I am that form of a seer

no going back

thunder rolls - lightning has already struck - we are put on alert

the recording has happened

memory occurs



now the sound, the sight, is present

it lingers until the next distraction

the next sight, sound, smell, of something new or old

brings us elsewhere and back



again
and
again



roll with the punches
go with the flow
work with the energy that comes

become this, that, the other ...


maintain

let go

gather



mindfulness
openness
stillness
motion

the same
yet different




I saw three deer this evening

it was a sign for me

I will make pots

ombligo

the centre

la centre 

the dance

the flame

the corpse

those who are left behind 

the light

la luz

lumiere

                                                sunrise, daylight

morning, motion

movement, turning

the world

keeps turning

                                                magic

                       continues

time unfolds

the moon

the stars

the night sky

quiet

  

                         shadows cast as the

sun

sets

                         dramatic colors as the day

unwinds

cools down

  

descent of sun

rise of moon

                        nocturne

                         creatures are about

birds sleep

owls and bats

keep each other company

The seasons are changing again

Nostalgia is all about

The stars are brighter

Colors sharper

I’m hungry

J’ai fiaim

Tengo hambre

No se por qué

Don’t know anything

The world keeps stopping

                                          I only notice at the pauses

In between

love continues

fire

feu

feugo

                                                    sharpness

                                        brightness

                              separation

                                           of vapour and container

pots

I dream                            of pots

                              of clay

                                           of earth

                                                      of glass

                                                                           of holding

I dream of holding

                                                                  I am hungry

                                                           for holding

                                                                    my arms long

                                                            for holding

I will make pots

the joy of stepping

moss, stones, mud, ruts, water, branches in the way; not so much walking here - rather stepping
so carefully
at a pace to accommodate the path's intrinsic nature
the view becomes close, the volatile nature of earth and plants become obvious; the nose delights in spring
friends lead the way
they are part of the stepping, part of the land here
the volatile nature of enthusiasm becomes contagious
in the wildness we slow down; we accommodate ourselves

we slow down
begin to see, begin to smell, begin to feel
landscape
differently

begin to see, begin to smell, begin to feel
ourselves
differently

an arm
holding branches

a leg

stepping over trunks 

feet 

jumping puddles and brooks

words heard

words lost in the trail

the comfort of being with friends

with guides

details

wonder

delight

the enjoyment of 

a shared nature

to be carried home

and beyond

traces

softness

shadows are soft at certain times of days
at certain times of certain years


songs are soft when love comes calling


when love comes calling
songs are soft and smooth and strong


sentimental journeys sometimes
take me just where I want to go
sentimental journeys can be
soft and strong and slow


light and line
love and song
shadows sometimes take me there

weeds in winter

weeds in the dead of winter remind of another time
days of growth 
of competition for view
of riots of color


of bare feet
tangled life 
everywhere around


the earth so full
of invitation to play


and now only testament to that vitality
but such graphic line
such tribute to space
and sky


fit for quiet meditation
for song
for light