I rolled over from my left side
Smiled into the blankets, pillows, books
Piled high in your space on my right.
Good morning Love
On this new day of this first day of 2016.
My eyes focused and could see
Beyond the coverlet of the king-size bed
To the vase of fully open yellow and orange roses
On the bedside table.
My vision traveled down the hallway
Into the den and out the window
Landing on a fine white lined limb
Of a Japanese cherry tree.
Good morning Love
From the land of enchantment
Where your enchantress
Sleepily but passionately
Is keeping the bed warm for you
With a promising message.
Lean into love.
When you fall,
Fall in love,
While I fall into the
Energy arms of love.
I am wishing you a Happy New Year.
Your true love
Streams of sun are coming through the east window
Creating concave washes of light on the north wall of bedroom.
Sun is in a southern path during winter
But still rises from behind the Sangre de Cristo mountains
Where I am warmly nestled in the foothills.
Earth is below me, heaven above.
Each morning, I light candles
Pray, meditate, and then blow out the candles
While waving the smoke in the six directions
Sending prayers on the wings of angels.
Each morning, I affirm,
“I am a channel of love, light and creativity.
I am filled with Sacred Love.
My Beloved is within me and all around me.”
There is a deep, abiding love that is
Beyond this human container that takes flight
And gives expression through Spirit. It is the light
It is the breath
It is the life within meIt is my gift
Our Grace.I have two candles to light each day
Twin FlamesWelcome to my waking world.
With much love
Dreams kept me in the covers
In the river of the unconscious.
There I saw a woman showing me
Two thin sheets of plastic
That were layered on her face.
She was telling me she needs “a third face”.
Plastic surgery is so strange.
The topic came up over New Year’s Eve
Dinner with friends all in their 60’s
All aging naturally including yours truly.
Beauty… it emanates from within
Resonates with likeness all around.
Beauty… moves in grace and thrives in love.
Beauty: “the quality or aggregate of qualities
In a person or thing that gives pleasure
To the senses or pleasurably exults the mind or Spirit”.
Definition from the Merriam-Webster dictionary app.
Loveliness: “eliciting love by moral or ideal worth”.
Elicit: “to draw forth or bring out (something latent or potential)”.
I follow these words into another dream
Where we are dancing in a beam of light with grace.
This morning I woke at 5ish but did not fall back into a dream.
I rested and planned for the day.
Up early, stretch, pray, meditate, make coffee, write to you
Journal, read email, FB and online paper, shower, dress
Get into the studio by 9am.
Complete the organization of storage
At least bring the process of unpacking, sorting,
Repacking into new plastic bins to near completion.
I’ve been painting since the 1st of year.
This requires space, clear and ordered
Work surfaces for visual clarity.
This is my goal today: I’ll paint and draw and take a walk.
The sun is rising now in a soft pink sky.
23 degrees but the mercury will be rising to 37 degrees.
At noon may go to a meeting.
First week of the month, first month of the year, first tradition.
What traditions will we create and practice?
Each morning upon waking no matter where we are
Together or apart, I will say
I love you
As I do today.
I am with you
I feel you with me.
Here’s to an excellent Monday, Dearest
Do you know how on some mornings
The first sip of coffee tastes better than other days.
That’s today: hot, smooth, dark
Frothed with cream sprinkled with organic cane sugar.
A signature cup is ready for you.
Sirens are screaming in the distance.
Snow has covered the ground.
Walkways are being shoveled.
Roads are slippery.
Pay attention to the signals and signs.
Sirens tell me to bless others.
Take excellent care of myself.
Look around and be grateful.
Pause and breathe.
Go within then be present and slow down.
When I see a rainbow or prism,
I say Thank You for the light and Abundance.
I’ll hear a line in a song and know we are one.
A pair of footsteps that left imprints
In the snow or dirt signal to me
We are walking together.
Birds in playful flight make me appreciate
We are traveling together.
My Beloved, we are in Quala Reality
Qualities of experience that are happening in the heart.
We are free, we are liberated, we are light.
I look around and completely enjoy the virtual reality
Where our love is rising and falling.
Falling in love with you
What is that space called
Between deep sleep and awake-ness
That in-between place?
Where figures appear then transform
Where things diminish before full recognition
Where harmonics play blissful melodies
Where the breath rises and falls in slow measure
Where a subtle breeze touches the cheek
Where a pillow wedged on my left feels like your warm body
Where cotton sheets envelope the skin in softness
Where a subtle scent of lavender transports the senses to a garden
Where flying is possible without any baggage
Where time ceasesWhere infinity begins
Where peace rains into fertile fields
Where light moves mysteriously as the stars shine
Where stillness is stillness
Where being is the beginning of a new day
Darling, what is this space called
Between deep sleep and waking
Where we meet?
I am asking you with love
To my left is a vase filled with red and green parrot tulips.
To my right are black limbs of bushes and trees outlined in white.
On the bed are scattered titles:
Enter the Quiet Heart
Everything I Need to Know I Learned From a Little Golden Book
Goddesses Never Age,
he Secret Prescription for Radiance, Vitality and Well-Being
Along with an Iphone, MacBook and
An article from the New Yorker:
Shades of White, A Robert Ryman Retrospective
There are five pillows of various sizes
Plus a writing journal and three pens: blue, red and green.
My bedmates who are excellent company.
Every morning is an immersion
Within these pages and virtual realities.
First praying, stretching and meditating
Then reading, writing, some online surfing
More writing and always accompanied by
Two large cups of frothy coffee and breakfast.
Morning ritual in every season.
Winter is simply an this artist’s cocoon time.
Quiet, introspective, contemplative
Allowing the river to flow deep in solitude
I love the snow.I love the soft pink morning light.
I love sharing these few images and words.
An early text message revealed that a friend just found out
She has Stage 3 Invasive Ductal Carcinoma.
I visited her on Wednesday after the biopsy
Before the results.
I gave her orange tulips that she placed in a silver pitcher
We ate hot homemade turkey soup
While sharing our hopes, dreams, and hearts with one another.
Today I offered to be with her.
She’s resting between doctor calls and visits.
I’m sending her loving thoughts and prayers.
Writing to you helps me to know
We are not alone.
I texted her
You are in God’s hands.
This is true for me
A lasting and powerful belief in the power of love
To bring us peace in the midst of the storm.
This news brings into focus this perspective.
Be present and be one with love.
As I write these words
I feel your presence.
My breath is smoother
My body softer
My mind easing into the rhythmic beat
My heart is living.
I can hear the neighbor’s shovel making a path.
I see fresh snow on the lilac limb.
A candle flickers the letters T-R-U-S-T
I trust your nearness.
What is Awesome?
Diffused golden light is illuminating
The snow-covered landscape.
Frothy coffee warming my belly.
Parrot tulips changing color and shape.
Starlight at dawn and dusk and in between.
Cathedral bells tolling every quarter of the hour
Between 7am to 7pm.
Walking deserted streets during a winter storm.
Taking a prism bath at the moment.
The sun comes and shines through
The east living room window
And strikes a sculptural wing made of crystals
Creating a kaleidoscope of rainbows.
This you’ll have to see.
All this, my love, is my daily Awesome
Amidst the people, places, and things that make up life.
This morning I felt the blessings of a healthy, strong body
As legs stretched up and outward.
I felt gratitude of well-being while affirming
I am a channel of love, light and creativity.
I am living a happy, whole and thriving life.
Right now, I feel the connectedness of Spirit
That comes with acknowledging your presence.
Our light shines within all this and more.
Shades and curtains are drawn this morning
Preventing the arctic air from
Coming in through the windows.
16 degrees the high will be 30
Welcome to the high desert winter.
Partial clouds are both in the sky and within me.
There’s family drama back ‘home.’
A niece’s wedding was called off by the groom.
He’s not ready to get married.
The heartbroken soon-to-be-bride
Moved back ‘home’ with her parents
My sister and brother-in-law
Whose 36-year marriage is on the road to divorce.
My heart is with all concerned.
A time of celebration takes a dark turn.
My love, I know the unexpected off-road twists
That happen in life when ‘destiny’ plays a hand
And appears to be cruel yet over time yields the real win.
Is this perspective from a bystander
Appear to be overly optimistic?
I only share it with you as I offer
Loving words and a listening ear to family.
When we meet, I’ll tell you about
My 1987 wedding day I knew there would be a betrayal.
I wish you were here now to hold me.
10 degrees; feels like 0.
Woke to alarm system screaming
CHECK LOW TEMPERATURE
Good Morning Love!
Several phone calls and thermostats up in all three zones.
Making a pot of coffee, stretching, praying.
Now I’m here, an hour later back in bed with thoughts of you.
I do enjoy starting the day with a sense of companionship
But not with alarms.
Birds are chirping, sweet creatures with dynamic thermo systems.
There are finch, chickadees, ravens, crows, flickers, magpies, doves.
A friend commented that my new miniature
Symphonic Poem paintings look like birds sitting on a wire.
Our minds want to locate a visual meaning to the abstract.
The new acrylic work is playing off poetic terms
Poems, couplets, tercets, quatrains, quintets.
In poetry, a stanza is visual groupings of written lines.
In music, a stanza is a verse, a group of sung or played lines.
In painting, a stanza of lines, a visual element creating form.
I’m painting pieces of music that are love poems
Even though I do not know how to write music or academic poetry.
Right now, that’s my passion
Following my heart into Symphonic Paintings.
Join me here.
With alarming love
My first act of kindness today
Was carefully lifting a brown spider with a napkin
Off of the bathroom wall and
Transporting it to the indoors greenhouse
to live happily amidst the geraniums.
We had a few mishaps along the way
but made it with no injury to either party.
Certainly put me into the moment as did weight lifting.
I’m laughing as I feel the lifting, not any fear of spidey, dear.
The six-pound weights I crunch and heave over my head
Every other day are keeping me in shape presumably.
Breathing was a bit more labored than usual
Perhaps due to the vigor I was putting into each lift and stretch.
I feel better now.
A walk in the neighborhood later
When the temp rises above freezing will round out,
Or shall I say shape up – the lower extremities.
There’s a set of eight-pound weights
And a place at my side for you, love.
I invite you to join me for the daily joys:
Exercise, walking, preparing and eating meals,
Watching the Golden Globes and a movie,
Playing cards, making the bed and rolling around in it,
Loving, dreaming, traveling, living and simply being.
Yes, let us begin being with one another in the flesh.
Good news!Friday, February 19th, 2016, 5 – 7pm
Symphonic Poems Project: Visual Event and Concert
Will be hosted by James Kelly Contemporary.
I am thrilled.Began painting, watercolor on musical score paper in 2013.
Three musicians have composed music from the paintings.
In 2015, I met Grisha Krivchenia,
Pianist and composer extraordinaire.
We have collaborated.
Now have 14 pieces of incredible music
That get played while large images are projected.
Can’t wait for you to see and hear.
This is part of my life’s work.
Voices Beyond Measure
Who knew a visual artist would find her voice
Through music: her Muse.
I’m beyond words to describe this all for you.
It’s an experience you can look forward to having.
Green light… I am in forward momentum.
Also working on new paintings.
Life is good.
Will begin process of promoting and
Selling the work this week.
Prints are made from the originals,
Sold and support the project, events, and me.
Want to purchase a print?
There are many beautiful pieces.Including this
Winter rest is so rejuvenating.
Body goes into hibernating mode.
The Spirit dives deep into other realms
Doing the work of the Gods
In the River of the Unconsciousness.
Nine hours of uninterrupted sleep, a reprieve.
Woke feeling some pain in right thumb and forefinger.
Small slits in the skin near nails
can make for big discomfort.
Today I begin wearing rubber gloves
Anytime my hands are to be in liquids.
High desert climate is dry.
I do put lotion on my body and hands to hydrate often.
This current irritation is the result of a couple factors:
Forced dry air heat and submerging my hands
Into water a lot more than usual due to work
In the studio, cleaning brushes, bins, supplies.
Ah, the life of an artist.
I also wash dishes
The rubber gloves are out at every sink and being used.
Let me assure you, my beautiful body is soft and smooth.
I know what I will do to reprogram the pain message.
Each time it occurs, I’ll think of you holding my hand.
This will relieve the ouch factor.
So darling, take my hand in yours.
15 January 2016 7:38am
Upon waking, words tumbled around the mind cylinder
Persisting to find the accurate description of the
Symphonic Poems Project.
Are you a wordsmith, a poet, a writer,
An artist, an avid reader, a scrabbler?
I am all these.
I need help to get this right:
Clear, concise, conscious and understandable.
Please help me.
I’m smiling… no dangling modifiers.
You Tube clips drive our lives now.
That’s what I find amusing.
Give it to the audience in a 3 second GOTCHA grab!
Visual and audio, virtual and real.
It has to be impactful on Social Media.
I will not list this, no, no, no.
In fact, this kind of thinking signals
Change the channel in my mind.
No media chats while in bed with you.
Now I’m really laughing.
Thank you for your presence.
Thank you for the wonder, the inquiry,
The longing, the calling, the inspiration.
Thank you for the nearness, the companionship,
The reflection, the introspection, the curiosity, the listening.
Thank you for the container for which this love within me
Finds space without limits to expand and express.
Thank you for the express flight to joy.
Yours in this
There’s a new bird in town.
I can hear its’ distinctive song but haven’t seen it.
Shades are down.
As temps go up, shades go up.
Same for me on most days.
I work at home so stay in usually until noon but not today.
Have a breakfast date with two male friends at 9am.
This sleepy girl needs to wake up in the shower soon.
I bumped into these “bachelors” at an art opening.
Their wives are away.
I teased them about having some fun.
Asked “Are you getting into any trouble?”
Laughter witnessed them turn into high school boys.
Spirit likes to play this way… ageless.
Evident during Game Nights, too.
Hope you like to play games.
Yes, I play games, cards and scrabble.
Keeps me out of jail.
Played Aggravation last night with 10 adults
Who turn rogue upon the first move.
I’m grateful for the camaraderie and rowdiness.
Beside me in bed are two recently purchased books:
Patti Smith’s M Train
David Whyte’s The Sea In You;
Twenty Poems of Requited and Unrequited Love.
Winter reading and inspiration; poetry and memoir.
Ah, love, reciprocal or not returned in kind?
Return to me.
I’m being serenaded by a perfect bird song that’s delightful.
Apple trees and lilac bushes
Serve as a stage for finch and chickadee.
Pinon feeds them.
They all nourish me as do the saffron peachy-rose,
Maroon blooms and green leafed altstroemeria.
All this settles my anxious and excited mind.
Preparations began for the February 19th, 2016
Symphonic Poems Project event at
James Kelly Contemporary art gallery.
We’ll be exhibiting five framed pieces with
Having the visual slide presentation and concert.
My pieces will be in the group space in front.
James Drake will be in the main gallery.
Jim also asked if I would fill in for him
At the gallery when he travels.
So, I have a part-time job.
This goes back to my roots 35 years ago
Sitting the Graphic Gallery, Westport, CT.
Many friends would drop in and visit.
It’s a good life.
Noisy mind, do you hear this message:
It’s a good life.; fulfilling, purposeful and creative.
But enough about me.
What are you thinking about me?
Smile, I know, it’s an old joke but still funny.
I’m tickling you , love.
And you’re tickling me.
This body needed twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep.
It is nearly awake as I write.
I would come to consciousness for a moment
Then the wave of slumber would wash over me again.
Here we are in late morning and if the truth be told,
I could of slept twelve more.
It’s going to take more than a strong coffee
To shake the sleepiness out of me.
What do you think of this?
It’s Monday morning, the beginning of a new week.
My plans were to have been out of the house early;
To the printers, the party rental company, to the grocers,
To a noon meeting then to see the framer.
All can be accomplished this afternoon.
There’s no energy to move fast so I’m building up to it.
I profoundly respect my body signals,
Energy levels and the seasons.
Winter’s pace is like this, slower, inward.
Rejuvenating yet very productive allowing time
Solitude to build the foundation of what is to come.
Darling, I’m under construction.
The Great Architect is in charge!
This new day has found me reading a few lines of
David Whyte’s recent release:
The Sea in You: 20 Poems of Requited and Unrequited Love.
Here is the opening of
“There is a faith in loving fiercely
the one who is rightfully yours
especially if you have
waited years and especially
if part of you never believed
you could deserve this
loved and beckoning hand
held out to you this way…”
And he goes on to speak of faith, loneliness
“what we feel we are worthy of in this world.”
I breathe in deeply these words.
Breathe out infinite hope that these words,
My words mixed with poetry,
Mixed with inspiration,
Mixed with faith,
Mixed with loneliness,
Mixed with vulnerability,
Mixed with my waiting body,
Mixed with my questioning heart.
Hoping I reach your faith
Your beckoning hand
And are met with rejoicing love,
Welcoming me home.
I miss you as I wake.
I am with you as I awake.
“I want these hours to linger on
and heaven to fall
and all the waters
of this mighty
run through me as
my memory of you
David Whyte’s Almost Silent
I risk not writing a word
After reading and sharing David’s poetry with you.
Such inspired and conscious incantations.
Ah, but what better way to charm you.
My waking body wants to put a spell on you
Put a quickening beat to your heart
That begs the question
What is this sensation overcoming me right now?
That causes you to pause,
Stop what you are doing,
Look around in search of what can only be,
This love like cupid’s arrow striking you awake.
Are you conscious of me within you?
Does that move you to step towards this body,
This waking body,
This electric energy,
This invocation blazing
Out through the ether?
Burning with love for you
Excitement about upcoming exhibit
Plus ideas for paintings have me up early.
First look at time 5:36am
Tried to sleep a little more
Symphonic Poems are playing with my mind.
My body moved into yoga.
Stretching feels so good.
Focuses the thoughts.
Counting meditation helps place me in the moment.
The Symphonic Poem paintings are like counting.
Rhythms of movement in line, form, color, space, breath.
Yes, they are Life, breathing, exhaling from within me.
I breathe the paintings out.
They give back to me as I inhale.
A conversation takes place between
What is seen and about to be seen.
Creativity and imagination are my life blood
Infused and upheld by love.
This body of work, Symphonic Poems,
Began as a love letter to my muse.
A painted song
PrivateCreated in solitude
In a moment of surrender
Something entirely new was born
Compelling and mysterious
Calling to be seen.
You are in this work, this life,
I remain completely yours
At 5:20am, soft shafts of light silently
Crept across the dining room
As the full moon set in the western horizon.
My body took a bath in the luminescence
Then went horizontal creating a landscape
In the cotton sheets and bedcover.
An hour passed in suspension between
Sleep and awaked-ness while the mind
Adventured across the plains, hills, valleys
The byways of my newest inspirations for paintings.
This twilight time is magical for the creative.
Nothing impedes the flow of imagery and ideas
Until Yackity knocks on the door and
Tries to enter into the conversation.
Yackity is the ego voice within me,
Caught up in details, judgments, and criticism.
Quieting Yackity requires prayer.
If that doesn’t work, movement does;
I stretch and count and out Yackity.
Within this Gemini mind are distinctive voices
Living in parallel universes.
Blessed with Grace,
My movement between worlds is mostly effortless.
Being present is key.
Otherwise you may find me on
A moonbeam rather than bathing in one.
The waking day finds me in the balance of
This full moon and your faraway love.
Peeked at the New York Times headlines
To see if there was Breaking News
Jonas, the Monster Storm hitting the Eastern seaboard.
Cable networks sensationalize weather.
So did my father, Bless you Dad.
Our so(le)ul topic of conversation
In his later years was weather and
The price of gasoline.
With a blizzard and the plummeting price of crude oil,
Dad would be rocketing.
My attention has not fallen far from the tree,
In all honesty.
Who’s reporting this to you in a love letter?
A full moon and high tide at the peak of the storm
Is adding a major threat of flooding.
7600 flights have been cancelled.
After one of the mildest winters on record
Jonas promises to go on record for the most snowfall.
Are you in or near the region?
Are you ready with provisions in a safe warm place?
Do you have a snow shovel handy?
Or are jetting somewhere tropical to escape?
Or are you oblivious to all this
In some remote region of the world?
I wonder where are you and what are you doing?
And tell me, how is the weather?
With all my love and the weather
“Somewhere inside of me
is the jewel box memory
where I remember
the way you speak
the way you turn your body..”
a few lines from The Pearl, David Whyte
Somewhere inside of me is the ancient seed of faith
that tells me you are returning to my side
where I still feel your hip and shoulder
brushing against mine as
we walk towards the horizon of our future.
Somewhere inside of me is the tonal synapse of
your song that plays on the tides of our past.
Somewhere inside of me is the trusted compass
focusing on this magnetism
that draws together
our Voices Beyond Measure
Within this infinite moment of living now
You speak to me now
You sing to me now
You walk with me now
You live with me now
You love with me and
I with you
Now and forever
A dusting of snow while sleeping
48 hours passing while the matters of work
Moved me out into the world.
Now the heart of matters placing pen to the page
Embraces being with you on this
19 degree mostly cloudy morning.
We’re in the depth of Winter,
A time nature beckons stillness, quiet and solitude.
I find my life in the rhythm of the Symphonic Poems Project.
The energy is building upon itself.
Film and video clips are being completed
Will launched on You Tube and Vimeo this Friday
As the Works on Paper exhibit opens at JKC gallery.
Postcard announcement for the
February 19th event is being printed.
Prints are to be picked up today at the framer
Dropped off at the gallery.
Web site will be updated later this afternoon.
Sheets of watercolor paper 22” x 30”
Are at the printers being transformed
Into musical stave paper for my next project.
An orchestra conductor is interested in the project
My heart is in all these matters.
You are living with an artist
Who dreams, wakes and lives this graced life.
You are in every step, every still frame of this picture.
I feel you here.
This morning I wish you were here with me
With arms and legs, heart and flesh, hugs and
Comforting kisses with words of encouragement.
Woke with the feeling of anxiety
Followed with the thought,
I don’t want to keep on doing all this alone.
Was it too much salt in the Beef Stew
That is upsetting my mind and body?
This makes me laugh.
I rarely eat beef but yesterday
I made Beef Barley Stew in reaction
To a high testosterone day.
From the printer, to the framer,
To the owner of SF Modern
To the gallery assistant working with an artist
I moved from place to place.
Ate all meals by myself.
That won’t be the case today.
Having lunch with a friend
Who wants to buy a small piece, a new painting.
Will also go to a meeting to fulfill
The need for fellowship.
How close are you to arriving?
Your presence is requested.
Events are coming up that
I want to share with you.
Taking a walk with you before dinner
Would be heaven.
Today, I’ll keep my heart and hand open
As I remember
You are on your way.
“how much I needed
to learn in order
to love you
how much I was made to
wait until everything
in me was ready
how kind life was
in keeping you hidden
David Whyte’s The Sea In YouYes,
how much I needed to learn
in order to love myself
in order to be ready to love you.
Cathedral bells toll the hours
this love within has seeds, grows, blossoms
and returns to seed in order to be,
To be new, to be a blush on my cheek…
to be a skip in my step…
to be a glint in my eye…
to be a rhythm in my heart…
to be a shiver in my body…
to be a whisper in my mind…
to be a touch in my hand…
to be an adventurer in my painting…
to be a resonance in my laughter…
to be a flirtation in my smile…
to be a depth in my solitude…
to be an exuberance in my community…
to be a know-ing in my Being.
Comfortable knowing this cycle,
this being in love
and present and living
with the mystery
of never knowing completion.
Am I awake or am I still dreaming?
Nearly eleven hours after closing my eyes,
I could easily keep sleeping.
Machinery and men breaking up concrete
outside was the alarm clock.
New water main being put in along the entire street
Breathe… a lull in noise is welcomed.
This girl is grateful for every minute of rest and quiet.
This evening is the Works on Paper opening.
Bravo for Symphonic Poem #13
Hanging alongside excellent companions
and standing out amongst them!
Headphones with an Ipod that will allow people
to listen to the piece’s music.
Strong coffee is helping me to come alive for a busy day.
Slow down now to be here.
Let this moment ripen in connection with you.
My muscles soften.
The volume and pace of my racing thoughts quiet down.
The corners of my lips turn upward.
The passion within my limbs swells.
The sweetness of this waking dream lengthens.
Your presence makes my life and eyelids open.
Rise and shine.
Shimmering for you
“Our pilgrim journey
apart or together
like the thirst
to find its truest form
the grain of wood
round the hatched knot
toward the light
The Hawthorn, David Whyte
Yes, love, our Soul’s journey apart or together
We move toward the sun stretching our ideas,
expressing our creativity,
stumbling as our eyes are focused
in the clouds while our feet are on the ground.
We pause, wipe off the dust left
in the folds of inquiry and step again
into the voice that whispers within.
The voice that keeps moving us outward and forward
Voices Beyond Measure
Through fields, rivers, foothills, streams, mountains,
oceans, pastures, continents, troposphere, hemispheres,
earth, stratospheres, ethers, heaven.
Our voices rise up and speak
Our voices rise up and sing
Our voices rise up and love
Our voices rise up to their truest form
Our love rises up to the light
Our heart knows the way
Good Morning to You on this lovely day
“I sense your cheek against mine, and close to me,
your familiar voice, as ever, singing in my ears,
all the ancient and future depths of the sea.“
Selkie, David Whyte
As I write cathedral bells sound over and over again
punctuating the hour of High Mass rolling parishioners
in and out of the pews like waves bringing in their prayers,
going out with their faith having left upon the altar their sins.
Vaulted ceilings tower into space
where alchemy happens.
We don’t want a tsunami of sin to take us under
into the rip tide and undertow.
No, we have places of worship
to provide forgiveness, healing, transformation.
I have this place, this page, to tell you of all this,
to tell you about my thoughts,
triggered by distant bells, inspired by poetic words.
There are voices ringing in the cathedral bells
There are voices singing in praise of God
There are voices rallying on the town greens in hope of change
There are voices everywhere, everyday expressing every point of view
There is one Voice, a Voice Beyond Measure,
speaking and singing to me.
My body lay still under the weight of yet another winter storm.
Low barometric pressure and plunging temperatures
into the single digits slow this human system.
Stay inside and in bed
Waking is an event with multiple stages
serenaded by snow being shoveled.
I was in a dream immersed emotionally
deep within the decision as whether
or not to fall in lust with a drug dealer
played by Brad Pitt.
Even in my dreams discernment reigns.
Demolition of the street outside my window saved me,
the cacophony waking.
The phone rang, a friend I promised to call once.
I need a cup of coffee so carefully lift out of bed and
move across the carpet to the kitchen.
Eyes under half moon lids without need of much sight
guide hands that reach for the container of
half caf coffee and an unbleached filter
Coffee pot gets filled with water
poured into machine and finger pushes a red button.
I shuffle across the carpet memory moving my body to and fro
until I am here sitting in bed propped up by pillows
steaming frothy coffee to my left side and
You, in this book of letters, placed squarely on a lap pillow.
Good Morning love
10 degree chillWhere are the birds on a morning of arctic air
pressing down the mercury?
Have yet to hear one chirp.
Furnace is blowing welcomed warm air.
Several inches of new snow refreshed
the blanket laid since November.
Clouds are separating into thin veils
as soft hues of pink blush
rise up from the sleepy horizon.
First call a crow caw
Waking after a deep slumber
Winter sleep dives through
the thin sheet of life into obscure treasures
just beneath the surface of endless time.
Waking is the in between
Am I sleeping or in a waking dream?
Images of my beloved pets,
a man taking my purse,
the thought, why did I give it to a stranger, all ask me,
what is going on in this shape shifting stream?
Sounds of the house, the bird song,
the pen moving along the page,
signal I am awake.
Rising up from Neptune’s embrace,
I smooth the cover over this bed knowing
I will return to him, the embrace, the treasure.
Now I live into the pink blush of this day.
Be with me.
“I have gained and lost you a hundred times
between darkness and dawn.”
Love in the Night, David Whyte
When eyelids drop over globes of sight and
submerge into the universe
living on the inside of their thin veil
Where flickers of light form geometric patterns
guiding Helio’s chariot and fire-darting steeds
into the darkness
Sink beneath consciousness toward
a river flowing into the ocean of dreams
in the inkwell where the ancients live onward
informing us of all we have known and need to know
The white stallions emerge with carbon hoofs
Galloping across the surface of pages
Making marks that sound a distant place
Appearing in a painting, a drawing, a poem, a song
Released from the trove of my heart and
brought forth as a gift for you
This is the way I gain and lose you
“a hundred times between darkness and dawn”
I wonder what this day would become
if you were to wake beside me.
Our bodies united by the bonds of trusted sleep
Our psyches mingled in the stream of the unconscious
Our spirits flying through the bed of dreams
Our souls magnetized toward true north
inscribed within the cells of our
DNA = Dynamic Nuclear Alchemy
How many seconds would it take for me
to roll over and kiss you, Good Morning
How long have I waited to know
I wonder what this moment
would be if
I were to wake beside you
I am asking in love