One day I turned and looked 

how much this body longs for you
to drop down into fluidity 
of your letting go,
in one moment of opening
and a loud sigh,
surprising the quiet spring evening
filled with tender jasmine aroma
that you often burry your face in.
you drop deeper into your bones
and walk slow, and even slower
in a magnificent show of flower
beings. They all tug at you,
dizzying seduction of blossoming 
joy. The slowness and immaculate
patience of plant beings seep 
into your own bloodstream. 
slower and smaller and
simpler, 
this life is great.
 

dedicated to jasmine-aroma filled streets of Berkeley...

Diligently, I am digging deep into my dreams
my nails filled with black soil of underworld
the dark, fertile soil of my soul.
Soulguides read poems of mystics,
hold a lantern and say,
"Welcome, step down"
pointing to a manhole in the ground.
Curanderas blow sage into my body,
rub rose petals all over me.
And I,
I stand there with open arms,
soaking prayers of this world.
slowly sinking into my ground.
My roots looking, looking fervently
for the well of grief
where children quench their thirst. 
Into that dark, mysterious substance
I descend. 
In my descent, I am not alone.
I am not dying,
I'm coming alive, 

I see us as the intelligent, imaginative cells of universe, of Gaia,
swarming in space with evolutionary appetite
there is so much activity, so many conversations,
so many connections happening simultaneously!
self-organizing, participatory,
we're finally changing the story!
we are mending the web, Gaia is mending Her web,
Life mending Life.

each cell connecting with other cells through
an intuitive dance of resonance -
synchronicity and creativity abound
we are riding a giant wave of consciousness
heading Home, who else is involved in this plan?
I am humbled again and again!
prophecies being activated, star-beings,
galaxies aligning, Matariki calling.
The time is NOW.

it is amazing, it makes me dizzy, it makes me weep,
it makes me scream with joy
it makes me fall to my knees and say
Thank you!

what an amazing time to be alive and
to be an intelligent, imaginative cell of universe,
to surrender and be a creative life force,
flowered from the Source.

say no more
in the vigil of the morning light.
say only Her name
as the light grows in your chest.
on the cusp of your glory
let your breath rest
in the infinite space
of your wild and wide existence.
that fine silence behind your words
cradles the songs of your liberation.
another chance in each moment
to stay grounded
even when you stumble
into her arms,
head down, forehead in the mud.
then, swell your lungs with the moist amber smell
let the earth feel you, see you, hold your
restless, fragmented frame.
seep into the soil.
you will come back
perfected.
that which you always were.

She weaves. She weaves constantly.
and we weave with Her,
Her patient, gentle Daughters
and Sons
of all shapes and colors.
She knits. We knit together.
She loves. She teaches us to love.
We learn to love.
We’re clumsy but we’re patient too.
We will learn. We are learning
to love.

Happy Solstice!

I would do it if I can: 

pour rose petals all over your heart to ease your pain, tell you silly
jokes to help you believe again.
I would wash your face in rain, whisper you the most intricate
secrets of loving this world in vain, take you to countries of dust and
ash to soak in the impossible lives of naked flesh. Our cells dancing
in morning prayers thick in golden rays of the sun and then still for as
long as it takes us to dream again the omnipresence of Creation.
If you ever forget what this life is about, come perch with me on this
window sash, we can take a deep breath and slowly fall into the abyss
somewhere between a nightmare lifting and a new day breaking
where we will practice owning and dismembering our disillusions with
fierce love, remembering, loud and clear, our original heart and
forgiving ourselves for our forgetfullness.

Expecting nothing but everything
sweet fragrance of the earth
filling the space between things
lullaby of birds cheering my soul
do I remind you of an eagle
or a poplar or a bee?
I have one of the million faces of the divine
soaring high, creeping low
                      blossoming, bursting, expanding,
                      being born, giving birth
                      and dying
                      over and over again
                      as I enter the temple of mother earth
                      I am walking alone
                      you have left in a caravan
                      and I am walking alone
                      your shadow moving beside me
                      as I become an earth bride
                      hoping for a time
                      when you'll walk with me again.

12 October 2007
vipassana retreat

I belong everywhere
and,
I don't belong anywhere
which doesn't make me better or worse,
not even freer than you who
chooses to wake up in the same bed
for most of your life.
Maybe, you long for far away places
too and maybe you get a little envious
of me and my red little suitcase.
And maybe I get a little jealous
of your comfortable bed and your routine self-care
wax appointment, blow-dried hair
so we eye each other with tenuous flare
of a momentary fascination.

I live the life you couldn't dare
You live the life I have given up

You will dream of yourself
with a red little suitcase
before you fall asleep tonight
in your familiar bed
and I will think of you in your garden
with your longing to unfurl
as I step into the night
ready to spread my wings
having surrendered to the journey
a long time ago.

we all want to be seen
somehow to be understood

so I converse with myself,
and say
I see you

tears of gratitude flood
my open palms
surprised at the delicacy
of my own demise
and coming back alive
again and again

sometimes
how easy it is
to love
our adamant lives.

30 July 2011 - new moon
Villeseque-des-Corbieres