Under the green moon And the scent of love We succor the wounded Healing what cannot be helped.
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Poetry
Like the Moon, I am new Again- shimmering, lifting, A scythe cutting Across purpled black skies Reborn from my dark self. Sweetness in life after life Re-cycled and worn, wearing Memories as musk Scenting light Night by night Expanding babe-slit of silver, becoming Vast roundness, wisdom and folly.
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Green pears rolled on gold cloth Warm pecans startled against cold marble Julienned ginger scenting the room. God is in the details Never more so than now. Absorb everything. Stand Your Mat/Listen to Heaven There is a saying: ‘Fill your eyes- fill your heart.’ It is the Yogi repeating, [...]
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Anymore, our days ask for the rational, the analytical, and heavy time management. To create balance, we must return to poetry and Yoga, dance, and song. What we need most is mystery, and intimacy, nurturing and magic. As technology takes over, and we are more and more indoctrinated into literalness, and linear thinking, parsing each [...]
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