NEW YEAR’S BLESSING Turn the page, Pilgrim,Free Falling, hold yourself as a sacred vesselRip out pages of scribbled regret, And layered truths,Obscured in shadow’s weight.Re-read of hard-won wisdom,The muscled resilience of holding faith. Turn the page, Pilgrim,Free Falling, begin the new story,Mar the unlined paper.Despite loss Punctuated in floundering and failure,Turn and dare write the unknown.Not as fiction.But the life within, waiting for birth.Waiting the courage of dreams.Waiting the writer’s gift of imagination;The ‘Pilgrim’s free falling Progress,’ on page after page.
Gratitude lies with those who love Beyond our carelessness. Gratitude goes to those reaching out Across miles and absent years, Bestowed on those who know our ‘True Name,’ And invite our querulous contradictions home to their compassion. Gratitude is a hymn sung by those who hear our off-key notes And forgive all that lies unsung and un-forgiven within. Gratitude is the chalice, filled and refilled Despite petty hurts and anger~
September Blessing In this lofty time, in this lonely time “Live to the point of tears,” Camus wrote long past. Yet, and still, and always, we long for tears Tasting of raw and fearsome courage To shape and break each born anew moment. Cleanse, and move us toward belonging To the mecca of this day!
Mystery Of The Heart In August heat Petals of the rose unfurl Revealing divinity. Wonder and splendor grow From wet, dark dirt, Rooted in earth’s grief and loss, Releasing wild perfumes Of soulful flowering. However lost, whatever the folly, Grow the rose heart, Omnipotence made manifest. You are the gardener! At every turn Remember this. Cultivate the mystery of Being love.
Though loss and shame have me weep Of my ain country so deep asleep, Turned now from hope that forged her birth. When dreamers, worn, and wearied ones Sailed to Lady Liberty, Her torch high for them to be Free at last, free at last. Oh my god, free at last! Now, this death, this rotting stink Of who we are and how we think We’ve lost the way, the compass thrown. Foul carcasses are strewn Across this land that I did pledge my allegiance to the flag To the United Sated of America This beautiful for spacious skies, her amber waves of grain, Her purple mountain’s majesty, above the fruited plain. Her heart feels gone. The way forlorn, Her myth of harmonies I mourn. Was it all a fairy tale~ Or, did we once Hum with harmony? Sing lonesome cowboy soliloquy, And Blues born of blues and broken bones, Allegany fiddle tunes, and Cajun BeauSoleil. No tyrant lies, or allegiances of greed Can still my voice, or drown the need To sing of thee.To sing of thee. To sing of thee. Come, stalwart hearts Redeem our song, And bless the bread we once broke, The hands that reached across the sea, The glass that’s shared this day with thee. !
Solstice Majesty There is a vitality, a life force to June As it cradles the longest day The sun’s closest day, The day of Solstice Majesty. Her blessings of light, her opening notes Thrum within cicada and tree frog. Bodies become buttery, softening last sharp edges of a cold spring. Yet-We are here! Once again, splendid and redolent! Divine dissatisfactions of yesterday Disappear as we prepare the mystery of the great turning, Stand still to being alive! Gather the tribe. Light fires. The earth speaks. Solsistere-Stand still and listen!