Thursday, November 6, 2014

Where is beauty? poem


in the eye
or somewhere inside
the body


on its wheel


in sunlight

Study the humility
of grass

the steadfast

Hold on to this breath-thread

to calm my 


A Poem for Mothering Ourselves

I'm preparing a class for next week on the topic of Mothering Ourselves. I want to incorporate some beautiful serene music about the feminine face of god, and a visualization,  imagining the Shekinah or female companion of God in spirit form wrapping her wings around me, or soothing my brow with the palm of her hand, or lying in the lap of is a poem to go with that self-compassion.

What If?
by Jena Strong.

What if you knew
that everything was going to be okay,
that something was in motion
beyond your field of vision,
beyond even the periphery
of your knowing?

What if you knew
that everything you want,
everything you’ve been seeking,
trying to figure out, missing,
is right here, already whole
in your hands, in your life?
What if taking in what is
could satisfy your longing?

What if you could rest your frantic, racing, busy mind
and rest your neglected, tired body,
put your head down in someone’s lap
to have your hair stroked,
like a cat, or a child?

What if you didn’t need to understand
how it works,
but could enjoy the magic
of how love shows itself
in the most unexpected, simplest of gestures?
What if everything is just it should be?

What if nothing had to be better,
bigger, different, or other?
What would you do then?
Who would you be?"

 (SoulCollage cards representing Rest, on top, and the Great Mother).


Monday, January 6, 2014

It’s Dawning on Me

If we do everything else but that one thing, we will be lost. And if we do
nothing else but that one thing, we will have lived a glorious life. Rumi

In my solitary quest
for a silent Sunday morning
free of phones and idle chatter
and hungry for connection,
I watch the hazy sky at dawn.
Then seek the bronze/gold sun
of the inner sunrise,
under the rich cashmere shawl
of breath.

Where thoughts are thrown back
into the lake like fish
too small to keep.
I am after bigger fish,
the One Voice that purrs
and picks me up, kitten
in its mouth.

Held by the wide Mothercomfort,
awe in the face of such deep
nourishment, a seed
reawakens-- the passion
for living inside-out.