Sing into the crook
The place you see, where sky meets sea, & earth, that’s the place you sing into. Sing into the crook with all that is within, sing your heart, your soul, your life…right there, where sky meets sea & earth.
Inspirational thanks, and or otherwise mention of gratuitive sorts goes to David Pearson who taught me to breath, sing out my breath, sing into the crook, and know my song!
|Where the sky meets the sea, Julie & Hermano Friendly Cove|
It seems there is a mutant strain of loveliness going on in my garden!
Two Headed Daisy
Tears become like extraneous wet spots on a two headed daisy, bent & broken at the stem…by the painted pony that parked itself there…crushing the plants lush body, breaking, bending and stripping the stems of it’s supple leaves.
Loveliness of the flower with it’s duo bursts of delicate fingers reaching outwards even in the mutated form of a two headed monster ~ shows the decomposed compost rotting & smelly turned into black gold. Good and evil, they co-exist, one transforming into the other depending on the path chosen ~ and how it is traveled.
What does one do with a two headed daisy with a broken stem? Kiss it sweetly, shed a tear for the kindness in the firmness that must be shown for the love, yes for the love of self, the love of those who are us all. Mutated just a bit, each of us a two headed daisy, with extraneous wet spots.
Cut the stem up high, leaving what’s broken, to wither with the crushed organic matter that was. Take a photo, and place it in a jar of water, with the other broken daisies after all, it’s not the broken plant, the table where good memories were formed, or the blue horse that one day you rode in on.
It’s the lightening in the storm, the thunder that follows so quickly behind…shaking the daisy with threats to strike and burn through all that extends into the earth. It’s the raindrops that lightly sprinkle on a blue moon eve. Leaving wet spots on a two headed daisy, extraneous wet spots, on a two headed daisy… after all~ after all?
Never does a day pass when I fail to be amazed, amused and utterly in awe of human nature. Not just the children, growing and learning so quickly with their honest tongues ~ speaking without hindered restraint of self conscious societal chains. All of us, yes all of us.
Expecting the unexpected has become a mindset that puts me to bed at night wondering, and wakes me anticipating the day. Days such as this...I am floored, flat as the French pancakes my Grandmother cooked up while saying "eat all your mush first". Flat.
Blow sweetly breezes warming as the day moves on. Blow the wonder of dandelion puff, a star unseen, the drop of water in the falls, the whisper unheard. Blow sweetly breezes, carry to my heart, all that I can't imagine & blanket my soul.
|This makes me so happy!|
Monetary recompenses so to speak, don’t seem to have a place right now. We live, we love, we get through our trials, allowing each other to be ourselves, forming committees only in our minds, never expecting attendance or participation…well, maybe sometimes before rethinking, but there we have it, we help each other to stretch, like rubber bands becoming brittle with age and weather, but never breaking. Not yet.
Inspirational credit to Ruth Smiley for her ideas and intangibly intriguing thoughts that she transforms into tangible acts. This piece spurted out in a letter, but alone is a poem.
Loosing Your Paddle
You’re paddling up that creek again, the one you know so well…one with the thick brown water & that real ugly smell.
It’s ok. You’ve been here before…you know the way. It’s a hard bout, but somewhere it opens up, leads right on out
Sooner or later it’s free sailing in open seas, hoist the sails over the swells and just…catch the breeze
Ore slips from your fingers, …you remember now, it happens this way, you don’t know why, don’t know how
You reach, you grab - ore bobbing free in the murk, , a motor boat goes by making waves that give it a jerk
Further and further from your desperation that ore floats…all of a sudden you’re just happy ~ happy to be in the boat.
Then you remember it happened before, the way it must go. Look, look ahead…Moby Dick soon will blow!
A sputter, a blow, a mighty wind the great whale does make, causing turmoil and truly…one hell of a wake!
Holding on tightly as you’ve learned so to do…the boat you hang onto blasts from that creek full of poo
Out to sea the boat, the ore & you all go sailing…hanging on tightly, wind & sea in your face all the while flailing
“Hallelujah, Hallelujah I’m bloody well out! I’ve made it, I’ve made it Hallelujah, Hallelujah ” you joyfully shout!
The paddle hits you on the head…BAM & you’re out.
A slight head duck, glance from the side, smile a bit to the left of hello & goodbye. I watched it from outside myself, it took me by surprise, like watching a movie… someone else in disguise.
Someone showed me, I didn’t mean to step out, but there I was standing just a tad above and to the left…observing myself.
This person who is Me, was doing a thing… she’s done for years ^ right under my nose. I never saw, wondered why the trouble…now I know, the trouble is myself~ stirring the pot.
Traitor to myself, always screaming “why?” how could I be angry, she just perfected an art, something she could produce, with no effort at all ~
…leaving the flounder gasping on the shore ~
Who is me and who is she? Am I the watched, or the observing fool? How do I not love someone so beautiful, but how do I love what I don’t really know?
Standing there outside myself, I wonder how it works…can I just go through life, observing, while i carry the burdens, be the watcher, not feel the pain, the joy, just observe?
Fascinated with the person I find most tedious,.. Do others see me as I saw myself that moment, not as I do from inside my own tired flesh?
Laying down with the moon, but wakening with the rain watching me, watching me, dancing with the stars…never alone, dancing, dancing with the stars…observing… that…which is ~ Myself…