I know my Purpose And there is none I rejoice in being Seeing you and myself Nothing more My soul alights afire Continue reading Alight
My Joy Is Quiet Like gold edges around shadowed clouds Continue reading Quiet Joy
Passing by the field alongside the fence Walking free in the sunshine Butterflies flutter by as my love awaits A cow watches me from her side of the gate Our eyes connect and I look away So rude of her to stare In that over-curious way But I can’t resist looking again There’s something in her eyes Calling me a friend Our gazes lock, transfixed… She tilts her head and comes closer … Continue reading She’s just a cow
A workers song Pours from him Calloused Hands And a silent Hymn Hidden In the spreading light moving through his arms When he holds me I am charmed Continue reading His hands
Sweet and Hard Are the old broken shards of past breaks and old puzzles that fall away from newly bloodied hands Kissing them clean with laughter that dances so free over cobblestones that once tore me down …Nothing touches me And yet everything does. I Am Me. Continue reading Cobblestones
“Hello Spirit” Hello Om. Lovely day. Lovely way to be connecting with you. This is new. Spirit seems pleased as though looking around at a room that has been rearranged, and liking it. I have just rearranged my room, but I think Spirit is talking about this wordpress site. Our history of connection has taken place with paper and pen, and while I work with … Continue reading Hello Spirit
This is another from one of my old diaries. (2004)
I stand amidst the rocks with my arms outstretched, my head tipped back, and I greet the sky.
“Greetings Spirit. Welcome to this place and time. Well come to my space.”
A warrior woman in riding leathers swoops down upon a eagle with a saddle on its back. She greets me with a staff-length wand stamped upon the ground and holds it forth. I am honoured. She is well come. Sitting herself down upon a rock to wait, she points to the sky.
I wrote this poem many, many years ago, after a trauma. Before the trauma, I was a person who talked too much. The shock from the trauma lasted about two years, during which I made friends with the silence and emptiness inside me. I love the stillness this trauma gifted me with. It carved great chasms into my being, within which Spirit could enter. Emptiness … Continue reading Emptiness
It might seem to some as though I was always able to write and produce very easily and freely, but no, that’s not the case. While I have many, many journals filled with writing, I had no idea how to transition from this to book writing. I was afraid and had to do years of work to clear blockages that were holding me back. This blog contains stories about some of the interactions I had with spirit while attempting to clear my writing blocks. I think these diary entries are from around 2004.