At Home on Mother Earth

 

            The Atlantic Ocean on the shores of Plum Island, MA in December

We stood at the shoreline on a cold early winter day

drinking in the brilliant blues of water and sky

Love was born here on a windy November afternoon

our hearts just beginning to open once again

Looking north, we reimagined the sandy altar

where our vows were taken

It was June

a day much the same in its splendor

The early summer air kissing us with its warmth

The feel of the earth under our bare feet fed our souls

Still, there is nothing like the weight and protection of boots that help carry us over boulders and root-ridden paths

Welch-Dickey looking west

We stop and put our hands in a snow melted stream

amazed at its crystal clear color

Its extravagant cold causes us to sigh in gratefulness

Love grows here on the bare bluffs and falling waters

Arethusa Falls

When we climb in April, we arrive in time for Spring’s rebirth

as we once again mark our own

Seasons change but our zeal for hiking never wanes

Summer flora at the bottom of Artist’s Bluff, Franconia Notch, NH

The mountains await us

Mount Lafayette, Franconia Notch, NH

 

 

Day 22. A poem to honor Earth Day and pay homage to the March for Science. We went to a nearby Arbor Festival and came away with 2 more plants for the butterfly garden and a bougainvillea tree.

What Kind of Woman?

 

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                               Image courtesy of: Anarres Natural Health

You’re not one of those women, are you?

A question posed thirty-one years ago

A poster hung above my office desk

Hues of red, gold and blue

Women of the World Unite!

The question surprised me-

It was 1986 after all!

I answered with a question

What kind of woman?

His discomfort and unease exposed

He stumbled

Mumbled a response

To him

Women were sexual objects

Conquests to be won

Goods to be sold

Tasted

Then discarded

A future concubine for his progeny

The refrain is sung again in the larger houses of white men

who wield swords of archaic laws

and regressive religious beliefs

To them we are nothing but a body

A body to be controlled

Control the body

Control the woman

Sell the body

Strip the body

Sacrifice the body

What kind of woman then?

Day 21. 1 day late. I started this yesterday but it needed the gift of time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Seeking Heaven

Image result for compassion

I lie on my mat and ponder the wickedness in this world

Softly chanting mantras

Calling for light in dark corners

  Offering praise for the ones showing us the way

 I meditate

Cleaning the slate of my overworked and overwrought thoughts

I move my body

Stretching muscles

Mending tissues

Restoring cells

Experiencing joy in the work

Content that heaven exists

in the garden planted,

the mountains climbed,

the  paths run

and

the moments magnified by love

Day 20. Namaste

Talismans

 

Following bliss

Preserved and protected against evil forces

Sitting with the sacred

Bowing to the wisdom

Answering intuition

Warding off the wicked with prayerful words

 offered in hushed intensities

Intended and intentional

Persistence exists

 Is exalted and asserted

Seldom softly

 Sometimes silently

Enduring not in the nether

Sustaining simply in the supernal

Day 19. I received the blue evil eye bracelet from a student this morning. She told me that when she saw it, she thought of me. Later-at home- I remembered that my youngest son had given me the second one pictured here. He said that it also reminded him of me and my yoga practice. I am learning that inspiration can come from unexpected places and that activism can take many forms.

Tropical Nocturne

A Violet gloaming on a calm canal channel

A sultry summer evening dances

with the  magenta hues of  fiery reds

and cooling blues

An imperial third dimension

in a dynamic fusion

of expansion and conversion 

Florid in energy and vigorous in wavelength

Akin to gamma rays

  A noble finale

Linking the singular to the universal

Day 18. The prompt was nocturne. I listened to a Chopin piece to set the mood and then uploaded an old photo from my phone. Glad I saved it! Fittingly, purple is a favorite color of mine.

Thoughts in the Air


Image result for merging in art

Image courtesy of: Pintrest

Is it possible that reminders of an old life can appear unreal?

Can relocation reveal dislocation

not from a physical locale

but from an impression of  love and life?

  There:

Two lives in the same space and time

 One With and One Without

With was a notion

More of a staged play

Another in the leading role

Yet not present for every scene

Without was The Life

An Improvisation

with an ensemble cast

and special guest stars from season to season

A  Strong Woman opera of struggle and strife

whose finale was triumph not tragedy

Living  in a new dimension

Neither With nor Without

Not seeking to reclaim the latter

 It is not a discernible thing that can be held onto any longer

Yet:

There is movement and motion in both spheres

A compelling momentum forward

that doesn’t hold to a limited longitude or latitude

Here:

A garden grows

and love, too

Quiet and enduring

Room for an inner life

Gilded with grace that merges one with the other

Day 17: Bits of dribbled musings on the plane ride from there to here.

Mountain Crawl


Easter rose

We alighted to nature’s sanctuary

Our place of peace and resurrection

Away from the egg hunting crowds and feasted tables of obligation

The route took a detour

The conditions too muddy

A sure sign of Spring in mountainous country

A quick check on the GPS found a return to the ledge ridden twins of Welch-Dickey

We could not afford to be too picky!

Granite slabs in various conditions

Some slick with snow melt made the ascent a chore

 Forcing at times a climb on all fours

Still others were bone dry

 Standing straight in momentum

Surely we could fly!

Then what looked to be easy was deceptively so

As we found ourselves down on our backsides in the snow

Trails puddled and muddy

Leaf covered and ruddy

Narrow passages filled with slippery slush

Our day grow longer than we would have planned

 Yet it was worth it, as it ended with beers in our hands

Day 17. I should be asleep. The hike was exhausting but absolutely fantastic! Our original hike to Morgan-Percival had to be cancelled due to muddy conditions. We returned to another spot which was hard the first time due to rainy conditions. For some reason we thought it we be easier this time around. Not so much! My last full day here in New  England with my sons. Both boys were along for the trek today with blessed Izzy with us as well. My oldest gets the Mountain Goat award!