Friday, February 13, 2015

 Chapters Beginning And  
Ending, Arriving, Only To 
 Begin Again ~

Bluebird of happiness, getting grub for his family

Much has happened since my last post.My granddaughter Ansley came into this life with the sweetness and spice of a ginger bug and will turn 2 in May. Love has been my saving grace. Life has become a worthwhile experience for many reasons, but mainly because the dragon I fought several years ago, came back to be slayed. Now my dragon is with me always as a loyal Allie and there is insurmountable joy in even my darkest days. One must first slay their dragon, then embrace it. Meanwhile, the children at school are creating the 2015 Chinese New Year dragon, and for the first time ever she will be female, this voted by a class of mainly boys. Here goes a smattering of who knows what. Enjoy if you wish and welcome.



Slaying The Dragon

Today I slayed a dragon ~



It wasn’t my intention to do so, but never the less I did.



Just set out to do a task, burn some brush...while the breeze was down, spring moisture still in the trees, grasses & soil.



I lit the fire twice with paper & lighter, then Ponderosa cones & paper before it would even take off. Soon as it did, the dragon flew in from my right with a strong breeze whipping his mighty tail, gnashing his teeth & claws, thrusting his gargantuan beautiful head ~ this dragon ~ I knew so well...



Spitting flames up the hillside & into the Oaks nearby, this dragon spewed his fire and demanded more! Seeking the fire from my veins as he had done ~ since a lifetime, or two ago, that last night I danced with my gypsy lover around the fire, my father telling me “if you go, I'll have no daughter by your name”, so I went, of course I went ~ satiating my wildest desires, then turning my back, then and again, at least twice in this life alone, that hair those eyes, dark and dancing, just as before ~ when the dragon came, seeking the fire ~ in my veins ~ for his breath ~ offering safety...he said.



Flames shot higher as the tempest from the the dragons powerful, puissant wings blew in all directions ~ Bludgeoned by my gloved hands the mighty beast fell with a great thunderous blow into the fiery pile, hissing, and spitting, writhing and crying out in anguish, as I grabbed hold of the rake and struck him senseless, that dragon ~ that beast ~that fed off the fire in my veins.



Green leathery skin, charring to black, scales curling with white ash, foam hissing from his nostrils, as he tried one last attempt at blowing fire, I fed him once more ~ then lay on the ground beside him, my ear to the soil, hearing his hissing, watching him writhe, my eyes pouring out tears in just one short moment of... was it regret? No, just a flash of what was, for I loved that dragon, as I loved my self.



Laying there, head in the grassy hillside, looking past the incinerating mass of coals & ash, scales & soil, fire and blood and spit, glowing embers as watchful eyes through the transparent vague de chaleur and tears, I saw his soul lift, into the air, as vaporous as the waves of heat he flew out of, lifting up & out into a cloud which took his form, dissipated into several other clouds, leaving his massive body and tail to waft into the ethereal abyss of space and time .



Freedom attained, freedom gained, who was the captor & who the captive? Who then, when all's said and done, who ~ is the beast?



Today I slayed a dragon, although, it wasn't my intention to do so but never the less I did ~



~J~moonmango 4/6/14


Me & The Ginger Bug        

Backyard gift




Sardine Falls





All together this year for 
Christmas.












Tent Cabin getting some TLC






After choosing life and healing a body that rebelled against my refusal to live, I've found new hope in things I had to let go of. Much gratitude to Bob McKinney & Kevin Darcy for graciously sharing their skills and encouragement to begin giving the tent cabin new life.




Anna's Hummingbird







Anna's Hummingbird, as dull as myself, flashing a random red iridescent throat, to show she has fire



flitting about the wild fuchsia, stopping to observe me, observing her,



does she ever wonder,



does she give half a thought, to if there's anyone’s shoulder (wing?) worthy of resting her head upon,



or if there ever really was...



I think not.



She breeds with the one who wins her, dies when she is done,



no girlfriends to confide in, just fighting for her food.



Anna's Hummingbird, if I ever were you, I've lost all that I was,



except sipping my wine like nectar



and flitting when the sun goes down.



~J~moonmango 7/18/2014



This sweet Little Guy (now dubbed Lagrima Gitana) took me all over Washington, the Eastern Sierras and into British Colombia Vancouver Island last summer.








Add caption













Kowana Coyote ~

Coyotes Eyes

deep running water

pooling ~

Settling~

silt
behind grass,

Birds Eye Gilia

and Wallflowers
~J~moonmango 4/28/2014



Sunday, May 5, 2013

Mothers Day Post

Mother Nuthatch
All My Mothers


The other evening, a friend who I don't know very well, but like very much, because he always has good energy and a kindness about him, said to me “ those people on facebook, they don't know you are miserable, they only see your uplifting happy posts”> I told him, that that's because I AM happy, so very happy. I struggle, but a m not miserable at all. I could tell he had trouble processing this, but seemed to believe me. It's true. I've never been happier in all my life. Darkness is there to meet and spiral up into the light.

The past few years have been the most difficult and painful in my life. Painful, physically as well as emotionally. Today, as I sit here with my whole body inflamed in pain and on drugs just to keep me from going full on into Anaphylaxis and dying, I am a bit melancholy perhaps. Just yesterday I was healing, growing strong and moving forward. I had one taste of the wrong thing with corn syrup in it. I should have known better. I'll be set back a week or so at most, but will move forth from here. Seven months ago, I couldn't have said that. I was well on my way to a spiraling downward. That is when I realized that this was one fight I wouldn't win by fighting. Only surrender could give me hope, so for the first time in my life, I surrendered, white flag on a stick & all and began my journey to healing.

The issue I deal with stems from emotional trauma and MSG. It went quickly from just avoiding Asian foods to full on autoimmune crap out where my body recognized many normal healthy foods as well as GMO grown foods as the enemy. It's all too boring to explain, but bottom line is that once I put up that white flag and backed off to eating as purely as possible, I got the chance to live. Not just survive, but live. When friends say “why can't you eat THAT?” with a tone that says “you are fucking nuts”, it is painful. It tells me that I don't have their support. Most friends support me wholly. They know me and have seen me rise above, again and again. I'm not at the social gatherings for the food, I'm there for the folks. I will be able to eat many of those foods again someday because of that whit flag, but if I never can that's ok too.

What's gotten me through thus far has been friends, family and a sense of community that rocks the foothills. Music, joy and the children always have a part and yes, God, The Mother, The Father, The Universe, what I call and know as God, everything, all, the one who speaks to me and quiets my soul to listen. The one who blows moonlight into my ears to light my way to hear truth, speak the beauty and darkness that I see.

Today, with my body inflamed, I rejoice in the food I grow in my garden, the food that will feed my soul as well as my body. I rejoice at the pain that teaches me how beautiful life is. I rejoice at every breath that I no longer take for granted. The beauty of spring abounds, so there again I can only rejoice. The Nuthatches nesting in the hole in the ailing tree that I so very much relate to, the Lupine, the intrepid indecisive storm that says it is truly spring. Today, although I refuse being defined by my struggle, this pain I embrace with gratitude and claim adherence to the body that shelters me because that is what was asked of me when I cried out to God to make this body work.

If you think that you make no difference moving through your days in this life, you are wrong. You don't have to try to make a difference. We are all connected and because you are you, moving through life honestly, you have touched many lives. Sometimes it is just some little thing you say or do, just being you that changes a life drastically. One never knows, but my life has been affected drastically by friends, family, community and just random people I've met and in this life will probably never see again. Thank you for being you, any time you choose to, and by doing so, encouraging me, and so many others.

I am ever thankful to my Mother for teaching me how to survive, my Grandmothers for teaching me how to live,  my daughter for teaching me how to discern between the two, my daughter in law who shows me life from a new view and my Granddaughters who carry it all forth. My gratefulness extends for miles to the women in my life. All of them who continuously hold me up while I attempt to balance , fall, balance again in the teeter totter of living.

Weather or not a woman has born children, we are all Mothers. We nurture and love in a way that only women can. All my women friends are Mothers, sisters, and daughters in my life. So to all of you I say Happy Mothers Day, with love and just enough light to spiral out of the darkness.

Friday, February 1, 2013

Romance ~ Off Grid and Out Of Mind

Steamy romance poems, more steamy if adventurous minds can read between the lines of the out of bounds, but of course the steamiest are not to be shared...
A bit about poetry,

Poems whether romantic, spiritual or even silly are deep expressions of the heart, never, ever to be taken literally, nor to be explained. A poem about making love, could really be about God. One about nature, possibly is truly about love, or just plain raw sex. I invite you to read between the lines, scan above the clouds, but most of all allow the words to speak deeply to your own heart and see what emerges. I asked for help for the perfect romance songs for this post. What my friends suggestions taught me is that what songs move a person is personal and individual. Read these poems with the songs in your mind...if you so choose to read them. Happy Valentines month!


A Bite of Lemon Grass

The dream came before me and slowly she did creep, my awareness swallowed by so much else, she almost was unnoticed ~ Popping there beside me, my heart lept a beat, to see the one I dreamed of, no vision, no nighttime cloud of wonder, but a tangible, touchable someone to be touched.

However the touching had been done ~ yet passed, by that which stood beside me, smelling of lemon grass and freshly washed cotton. Exchanging words with fullness and bloom ~ like the dunes we lept over & slid down in our youth. Biting into the shoulder to claim my dream seemed so easy & right and the dream called out that it would be so.

Letting go & releasing that which bursts to be free is one thing, but to make a dream a reality can be quite another. One bite, leading to flirtatious kisses & beyond where the wild horses roam…well there are places in the valleys best left un-explored. Should she recognize me, this dream ~ but something says she did already…

~J~moonmango                    A time warped in in cognizant reality 


  A blue cat's visitor












Blue was the color of his joy filled eyes. Blue was his name. Blue was the color of the one who longed for him through the screen door. Blue was the fear that separated them from rapture.  ~J~

Blue is a dog that came to visit with his human. He has two of the brightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen on a dog. Wish I’d gotten some pics of Dandy cat (His Highneyness) looking longingly out at him, but too fearful to go play.







 



 
My Sweetheart and My Lover

My Sweetheart holds the umbrella as we walk in the rain making sure to keep me dry, offering his hand as I cross the puddles
My Lover takes me on the mountain top in the lightening storm sheltering me from the rain with his body while pressing my mine against the wet mossy ground

My Sweetheart kisses me sweetly to say goodnight under starry skies
My Lover takes me into the starry night bringing me forth into mornings light.


My Sweetheart builds my fire with carefully arranged cones & kindling
My lover lights my flame into an inferno and keeps it stoked throughout winters darkness

My Sweetheart makes me dinner being careful not to burn the food
My Lover feeds me mangos out of season while dinner grows long cold


My sweetheart is Attraction, My Lover Passion be,
To choose between the two ...
you see I desire them both ~ and both must share my bed...

~J~moonmango



Heavens Briar Patch
Bed me now in Heaven’s Briar Patch ~ lovely and full of thorns,
such as the blossom of my desire ~ for your touch

~J~moonmango



 
River

Not all rivers & creeks make it to the sea…,he said to me, then told me of one that doesn’t. Spreading out & disappearing, ending just the same. I like to think the rain brings it back, sprinkling into the sea…
The sound of the creek filling the forest, All good things must come to an end…taking me so sweetly~ that creek rushing on through the night…all good things must come to an end.

Like the river & the creek, that ends at the sea dissipating, evaporating, soaking in to be drunk up by a tree ~

~I like to think it all ends with him & me~

~J~moonmango





The Lake
 

Ascending over the rise to Tenaya Lake ~

           a vision of breathtaking beauty...

shirt in hand - all but what is ~ bare to biting cold wind,

           yet he walks, with altruistic form,

looking with intention, straight ahead towards the icy lake

           Cornsilk hair, tied and blowing off his neck ~

sunlight caressing perfect muscular curves

            unblemished flesh illuminated in sunlight...


I pass by, barely remembering that I'm driving...

             wishing I were the bitter wind, or better yet ~ the lake


~J~moonmango 10/8/12                         


What would romance
be without Emily Dickenson?



Sweetness on Tunnel View

Underwood

Poems waft through my head, spending time, but not setting up residence appearing to have a map and compass of their own, prompting to merge like rivers, creeks & cascades pouring down from the mountains into the lake. .


Thoughts of the old Underwood – it's beautiful raised keys ~ the satisfaction of pushing them down as they click, clacked punching letters on the page with a rhythm and a beat. The challenge of keeping consistent pace, looking not at the keys, but at the page, making no mistakes. Tap, ta, tap, tap...tap, ta tap...shit. ~ No delete on that baby.

Wandering mind venturing again into the slight gentle curve where land meets sea and all is lost to the wind and the sails, oh but that which lies awake in the grass ...

Colorful intricate woven cloths of my dreams.

Take two fingers and swipe to the right...see where that goes why don't you?

Faeries breath caught in the clutch of an infants fist.

Oregon grape, its red leaves and deep purple berries vining on a chain linked fence, on a rare sunny day in the rain forest ~ reaching for them in another time and place, for a dye bath ~ meditating, focusing, trying... to be in the present, falling backwards, making peace with God on the way down, never having been so completely in the present as when hitting bottom...staring through the grate at the end of a culvert leading to the inlet...knowing that were the rain falling as it will any other day there ~ , there I'd be, pressed against that grate which opened to the inlet...on to a new leg of the journey.

A dance...again full circle to the wind and the sails ~ all this said, based on the reoccurring remembrances of the nape of your neck


~J~moonmango




















Pondering My Lovers Kiss

While waking upon Stanford Pt ~ dew settling upon my face ~ 
           sun still hidden behind halfdome ~

My Lover’s kiss, so sweet & true ~
Stay wet my lips like morning dew…

Morning dew ~ like my lovers kiss upon my lips ~

Stay wet my face…refusing dissipation into the lightening sky ~
Crescent moon cradling Venus, drawing near the burning orb ~

To light the way to paths yet traveled…

~J~moonmango 




Hardly A Morning…

Hardly a morning passes when the sun does not greet the moon in passing upon my breast from gentle star lit darkness to warming light.

On occasion, the suns crepuscular rays brush lightly upon my back as I wake…colliding warmth & coolness into electric thunder; awakening every cell to ecstatic bliss.

The times when morning comes slowly, lingering upon its horizon, seem most precious somehow. Morning waking with tenderness and cool breezes which stir deep within, subside, then stir again what lies patiently anticipating ~ anticipating~ anticipating…the day?

Silver crescent moon & bright planets bowing and backing away, making way for the suns light * these days and nights of the Universe transitioning, reek mayhem and ravage every sense upon my rising.

All this, only to leave me weary, then rise up in calamity once again…again, weary, rising up in calamity ~ once again…

When silver orb & golden ball of fiery light forget each other at times, the wakening to the stars and crisp air stir me cognizant from unconsciousness, kindle and revive ~ that which lay lull in zoetic light of moon.

Lingering days stretching long keep warm the moons time… allow morning sun rays to caress uncovered flesh, gifting it such with pleasant glow, like fine beach sand ~ slowly sifting ~ through a child’s fingers to sprinkle a freshly formed castle. Moon & Sun intertwining in silky warmth … spreading out along a river of stars & clouds
Hardly a morning passes when the sun and the moon upon my waking breast does not set the tone of anticipation of the new day. A Union of cosmic syrup; like honey & molasses coat and run down, blanketing that which lie exposed.

Hardly a morning….

Hardly a morning passes~

Precipitating …anticipating…

Hardly a morning~


~J~moonmango



Pains Whisper

Soaking in like rain on sphagnum moss ~ your love for me
Rolling off like rain on a ducks back ~ my love for you
Beauty beyond a fairy’s lucid dream, the pain you pour forth
Never had I known…the loveliness that blossom’s from pain.

Must this spiraling inferno posses me so ~ breathlessly?
Could the wind never cease to blow ~ so hot, so slow ?
Slain was the dragon who blew the windy fire from below
The dragons den…bones, whimsical chimes, snow & rain

Clinging to loves sweet supple fruit ~ mangos ripe to squeeze

A slipper, comfortable, warm, dependable ~ tossed out the door
The wrens drop on it a spat with seeds… Spring’s Clarkia
Place the heart of the dove in the Dragon’s den, gently as she came

Lay me down in a field of blooming mallow ~ color my cheeks
Press me like the field poppy flattened in the book ~ of my youth
Honey so sweet in the morning, laying in my bed, forming crystals -
what sparkle all around, gently stroking, gently stroking…the flame

Breath of life, sorrows blessed curse ~ weigh upon the moth
White as down in a wood nymphs bundle ~ yet it does glow
Softly the whisper states all that stirs in this suffering heart
Parching all that wafts along, coming close, resting from pain

Vacant light, transcends the orb quieting the Universe ~ a grain
Sand as far as the mirage deceives, or perceives ~ a whisper
Softly, softly the whisper that sweetens the morning with light
Whisper softly, whisper softly, whisper, whisper…whisper…softly
~J~moonmango

 

I Dance

Looking out the window in the night on a full moon with parting clouds

leaves lit up by moonlight give the appearance of fresh fallen snow

A mouse running past ~ a faerie

glistening flecks on the walkway 
~ a million diamonds

The night calls to me to come and dance

My Love slumbering beside me ~
gives me want to stay

I dance, gently waking My Love upon return...kiss the moon and ~ greet the day

~J~moonmango

Just a compilation of several sweet memories swirled, sorted and wrapped in moonbeams. A peek out the window the other night being deceived again by the leaves lit up & pretending to be snow stirred these memories up.


Tonight Dear,



let me miss you quietly...consider it a gift



               The days have been hard and long



                             nights passing as shooting stars



So let me miss you quietly...below the stars so bright



                       Consider it a gift Dear,



                                       but wake me slowly with the suns rising ~



                  to show me what I missed



~J~moonmango 2/1/13


It seems time to add a new one to this post, as neglect has left the blog some time ago, the necessity of a whole new post is nowt. Still, new chapters deserve notice and sweet inspirations their fair shake. Happy Valentines day to all who deem each day as the first. 

4 Mile Trail Yosemite January 2015

I have found treasure under a map

and so it seems ~

all that needs saying,

or hearing,

may be found

    printed in sweet letters

           on the back of a store slip ~

beneath the map

    that leads to treasures

yet to look forward to

signed by the Captain himself

       No X to mark a spot 

            which can easily enough

be found

~J~moonmango 2/9/15
 

Friday, December 7, 2012

Christmas Came To Me



Obsidian campground ice in my jug morning #1





Christmas Came to Me

I have had much to be grateful for this year of 2012. Wonderful children who are happy in their families, fun loving Grandchildren, both parents still around to enjoy the holidays with, friends as true blue as a field of Forget Me Nots. With an immune system compromised by the trauma of the previous year, life threatening food sensitivities led to more near death experiences that I can count on my hands. Some that were closer calls than other, but all crazy serious. These challenges left me ever so grateful for many things I wouldn't think twice about before. Gratitude for life itself. As an example. When people would ask 'how are you?”, my reply became “I hear that breathing is good”.

Trail to Jerseydale2009
Truly, the journey through healing has brought much enlightenment to this soul. New perspective on things like “plan for the future” have evolved. One thing I know from all I've been through is that the future, for me and all of us, is the children. All I do in life seems to bring me back to this. I continue to be blessed by the little ones around me as as well as the ones who now have little ones of their own. How quickly they grow. If I could show them, like a picture book, how very precious they are, I would unfold my pages, let them bend my corners into dog eared crumples, get sticky stuff all over the paper so that the pages stick together and tear. If I could show them, each and every one, but alas, they too must travel through life, their own journey to experience.

Now, this being a Christmas post and all, I am slowly and along some bunny trails getting around to that very subject (as is the way I do things). With all that I have and hold dear to be grateful for, and Jesus being my mate since I was 8 years old (a WHOLE other story!) why, then shouldn't I be embracing Christmas more than ever? No matter how I tried, I got deeper in a funk. Not Scroogy, just not getting Christmas. Having truly experienced Loves True Light first hand in a most blessed way, surely I should. Well, I hadn't done any of the things I do like harvest yummy fruits, making sauce and drying them, putting together baskets of yummy stuff etc... but, that wasn't it either.

Mowhawk Rock. My snowshoe tracks. 2009
Finally, with no particular reason behind it, just as I'd abandoned any hope of Christmas joy, it came. I needed not search any more. It came, out of the blue, Christmas crept, slowly filling my heart, just as I have known it to be. I have no profound words about it, it just came. I turned on the Christmas music, got out the box of decorations, sat down here and began to write. Soon I will harvest rose hips, make spicy tea, and move on from there. No big bang ending here, but when it's all said and done, it makes good toast.

Peace, Love and the Joy of Life,

Jeannine 12/7/12


Sunday, November 18, 2012

Thankful Light






It's that time of year again where I subject friends and loved ones to my wonderings and babblings. 
Thanksgiving upon us makes me look inward, which hasn't been hard for me lately. The past few years have been the most difficult in my life and this last two, I barely survived...literally . As Dorothy said “there's no place like home” Looking inward, cleaning house, dredging up all the old treasures and sorting them out from the junk allows one to move forth and extend themselves outward. This Dear ones is my hearts desire.


Last night I saw a friend who I love so dearly and have since I first met her 21 years ago. When I told her how very much I always admired her, she said “there's a lot you don't know about me Jeannine”, like my love and admiration would change if I did. What she doesn't know is that nothing she's said or done would probably shock me, or change my heart for her, and the things I admire are the parts that rise above it all. When I connected with this friend, I saw HER, not her body, her actions, or any of the outer shell of her core. What I saw was a light that shone through all of that and lit up those around her, including me. She's beautiful.

I watched my friend raise her children, sometimes nearby, and sometimes in a way that was like being in a cosmic parallel play ( Peuoget, child development stuff. Playing along side each other, but not really interacting). I knew there were rough times, but I knew those children always felt loved. Because of that, they are incredible people today.




The challenges of these past few years have made me more grateful and aware than ever of family, friends, new people in my life and my own very soul, all of us shining our lights through the layers and lighting each other. Looking within and cleaning house has enabled me to see the treasures that are a part of my house, and you all are treasures. Your lights keep mine lit, and light it when it dims.

It would be all to easy to say how grateful I am for my children and Grandchildren who bring joy to my heart, but we all know this. I am ever so grateful, but my gratitude and thankfulness extends far into the Universe this year. Perhaps my heart will burst from it and my light will then shine down from above, who knows, but when I see your faces, or receive encouraging comments from you, it makes me shine with thankfulness to know you. I am thankful for those who have been drawn to my light as well as those who''s light has attracted me. Thankful for the ones who have held my hand through the rough times, without judgment... as the teeter toter tottered, as it always will. Thankful for the lights I see in new faces when I am invited into their “house” and look in, even just on the street, or in the market.



While marching through the streets of gratitude, I am always, always amazed at the children. So open to letting their lights shine. People say I'm a “teacher”, but the children have been the teachers for me. I try to facilitate their environments so that they can shine as far as they are able, but inevitably, they are the ones who light my heart. I'm truly thankful for the children and the children that I see in us all. Look within, put fear aside, and let your childlike light shine. Maybe I sound all new agey, tie dye hippie, but, hay, would you expect anything else?

Love, light... and just enough darkness to show the light,

Jeannine