The Road to Consecration

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                                      Image courtesy of: Jenny Grant

She turned to face him:

Which mask to wear today?

It was hard to gauge his mood with the thickness of sleep still bearing its weight on her body

Her mind is murky

  She lets out a sigh

Feeling safe only if she lay on her left side curled up and in her own embrace

Much better to fall off  than brush against the beast

How long could this charade last?

Lately she had matched his deceit with her own

Not out of some need to enact revenge

She wasn’t even sure how far he had gone

But he wore his lies like an ill-fitting suit

The pants dragged beneath his heels

The jacket was two sizes too small

And the buttons were askew behind his lengthy tie

When she would point out the mismatch between one tall tale and another,

he would insist that he was misheard or misunderstood

Keeping track of  his dirty deeds became a game of survival and self-protection

His self-involvement and vanity distracted him from noticing her wily ways

Still, she was weary of feeling undone

Every encounter exhausting

Every conversation calibrated

Today would be the day

Holding her breath

 She slipped out into the early light

Suitcases already packed in the trunk of her car

The papers and house keys lay on the kitchen table

  Woman!

We have lift off!

She exhaled and let out a silent cheer

She had no compass

Just her authentic self 

The only true guide to the road within

Day 27. The word is authentic drawn, from a conversation yesterday with Emily- although the subject matter was different. I hadn’t expected this as the outcome but certainly the theme of freedom is on my mind these days.

Transcending Old Suffering

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Image courtesy of: Heart Sisters

Too dangerous to repeat those words which once made me feel small

They hung in the air

A hovering smog of demotions revealing your lack of devotion

Too dangerous to think how those utterances once pierced my heart

They slit and sliced

leaving a hole where love once lived

Too dangerous to feel how those remarks concussed my soul

where my very being was left battered and bruised

Then a moment when I thought I was so far removed

Where the hurt had been expelled and expunged

My attention became ensnared and captured

Energy stuck in an obscure bodily sphere

Tenuous and subtle but present

 I linger with it

I sense it moving through

There!

It sits behind my eyes

Insisting that I see

Pounding my head with implication and insinuation

Admonishing me to feel

I turn it over

Offer it up

 Relief arrives with admission and realization

that the Spirit

the Me that is Me

carries remnants

the residual remains

of Invisibility

Each movement of ancient energy

is a releasing

another renewal

and I am seeing myself as I never did before

Day 25.  Old stuff surfaced ever so briefly yesterday and gave me a gift. And now I am giving you one as well. For those of you moving past old hurts and sufferings at the hands and/or words of another. The journey through healing is worth the destination.

 

Unecessary Intrusions

 

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Image courtesy of: Deviant Art

Driving in the noir morning

On its way to daybreak

The boulevard overly lit with electronic signs

of car dealerships, fast food, pharmaceutical franchises

and strips clubs advertising

“Girls Girls  Girls!”

“Selectively Hiring Hot Chicks”

  Arriving at the appointed hour,

the office astounds me

with the sounds of “headline news”

blaring on a ubiquitous screen

feeding me shallow repetitive drama

delivered in flamboyant fashion

I step outside in desperation

to avoid the endless droning

The whoosh of commuter traffic is ironically soothing

I notice the morning is awake

Its cool breeze sloughing off the clinging sputter

that spews from the so called news

I seat myself on a nearby bench

and observe a trio of birds constructing a spindly nest

Their collection of building materials lies on the pavement

I watch and wait as the glare and blare slowly disappear

Day 24. An early morning medical appointment inspired this one!

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.

Seeking Heaven

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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.