In Gratitude to Sophie for her GIft

A plush friend

is a pun

in my personal mythology

He always makes me laugh

and i know

my Sister knew it would

otherwise

why would she

send me

of all people

Doctor Fox?

Never Out of the Crucible

She was small,
small nose,
small toes,
full of wonder
full of fear
the darkness of her world
all she ever knew
and she chose gentleness

she was 4 years old.

She was a little bigger,
she played in the forest
with her grandfather
learning from the spirit folk
who helped him teach her
who showed her always
and only love
only light

she was 5 years old.

She was the crossing guard at school,
and the neighbor boys attacked
with knives,
this was nothing new,
but the venue was unusual
she stood her ground,
power rushing through her body
righteous rage expresses itself
in the crossing flag staff
meeting foolish teenage flesh
as she says with calm detachment:
I AM THE CROSSING GUARD!  DO NOT THREATEN MY SAFETY.

she was 9 years old.
she was fierce, and up til then,
had carefully harmed none.

She was a pacifist at core,
and she still is today
                        . . . or so they say.

She trained,
she trained,
she trained
      in the Flower Warrior's ways
long long ago
and for a long long time

adopting for her lifetime
their priniciples

that the only battle won is the one
which ends with a new friend
and no blood spilt
on either side
to badly paraphrase
                 for a modern audience

Never start a fight
always end one

Be just in every action
     (or as her papa always said)
                 always be in right relation
                         always be a helper
and oh
so very much more

she endured the hell of living
among men

she was 43 when she awoke
and remembered the forest friends
of her childhood

of her precious grandfather's lessons
of her deepest truth
and purpose

she is 46.

and according to some,
she is magnificent

according to herself,
she is still a child,
learning how to human
for the first time.

Phoenix Wings

hope has wings,
i’ve heard it said. . .
and yet all i see

are phoenix wings

aflame with Life
fragrant peach blossoms loosed with each downbeat
heavy with the sweetness of the Sun

warmth lingers
where Rebirth passes
Compassion wakes

and over time, the world begins to heal

Matcha Mochi

I sit alone,
the window open,
scent of rotting lilac flowers wafting in
tracing its way along the creases
in my skin

Earth stands,
looking like Godzilla himself

Fire stands,
looking like Inari Okamisama’s honored kitsune

Water stands,
looking like a Lewis Moonsnail shell in a bowl of saltwater

Air flows,
touching everything, but looking like a fan with
Grandmother Fuji-sama watching from above floating cherry blossoms

Sustenance stands,
looking like green tea mochi: a single, verdant sphere

The year stands,
a golden bell that resembles the small dog-woman cuddled
in my lap and snoring

I sit here, looking like a human being,
the window open,
I am not alone

The Fae-Dark Road

Sunset has only just passed by;
I walk a fae-dark road,
evergreens verd’rous o’erhead –
to either side the spear-wall
of berry brambles, nettles, and climbing tea roses
all gone wild long and long ago.

Fading light casts long and deep
the shadow of the Forest Lord
His antlers unmistakable
in what feels like sharp relief

Sunset left long behind;
guides now long gone, too –
my feet and heart now lead the way;
the spear wall sings with small things
make conversation with their fellows –

all still as I pass by.

Heavy human feet,
dank human stench

– unmistakable –

in sharp contrast to the perfumes
of life & joy & all delights
drift honored lilac, treasured rose;
delicate jasmine, & sacred apple grove
whose love songs twine & dance upon the winds.

No torch accompanies my wand’rings;
alone in the greenwood with only tree frogs and the Shadow King
to sing this human child a guiding tune
the shadows pool ’round weary feet,

though Grandfather Moon shows not his face tonight.
Mother Gaia keeps her steady spin,
thrilling in the dance accompanying the music of the spheres.
Great Bear waltzes overhead along the shores of
the Great River Above.

Dizzy and alone
the human child falters,
or is she a Changeling going home?

“Lay, Beloved,
lay beneath twined Hawthorn & Apple trees, so near.
Come, I’ve made a pillow of moss for your lovely head,
Come rest, my Heart,
tucked secure within the sacred grove
protected by the spear wall . . .
Come rest within my heart, Beloved.
Come home, My Love,
come to Me.”

Twirling, foxfire –
will o’the wisps, I do not know
but Knowing Beings, They,
oh yes, they light the way
& yes the mossy pillow is;
& yes, the trees are twined;
I know capricious Fate may play at dice for my life this night;
even so, my soul, at peace, lays down.

I may die;
Or fade into the Other World;
Or live forever;
Or for only one moment more —
Or ever altered in nature or aspect;
it doesn’t matter –
for I lay at peace in my Beloved’s arms.

He is not of this world,
nor,
really,
am I.

Presence

He smiles jauntily as he crafts each ideogram.

“It’s ogham today.”

I see.

Entertained by the clickety- clacking of my keyboard
from across the room, yet his focus . . as always

Strong and pure.

Shocking red hair that swirls to ravenwing blue in just this light,
Oh Beloved, my heart sighs, as he wrinkles his nose in annoyance

“What? I’m right here.”

REDEMPTION: THE LONG ROAD

You were once a horror, Love.

I remember all too well
the violence you are capable of;

and looking at you now, Delight. . .

looking at you now!
your rage comes out when the weak are threatened;
your conquering mood strikes when oppressors step out
                                     – all boldness.

oh looking at you now!

you are so much stronger than you ever were before,
no more the friend of the demon king,
no more cruel one out to satisfy only himself. . .

What a change you have wrought in yourself, my Love!

So many millennia ago,
the world trembled at your name.
and now?

And now you make me miso soup with black mushrooms;
you say I must get stronger!

And now you fuss over the little dog;
play tug with her, help her chase the deer that come to visit. . .

If only every being would choose to grow into their own best selves,
in spite of their histories.

The sky would mend of its own, just then.

REMEMBER

Remember who you are, the card says. 
Remember you are love.
And I shake my head. 
It's all true. I know I am.

But how to live it when 'to love' 
is a synonym for sex in this world

And no matter how much right relation I throw at this world
I'm still inherently unacceptable.

REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE.

I am Balance, 
I am love, 
I am harmony, 
I am Right Relation.

I am the unstoppable wave of compassion in which
evil is able to become self aware; to grow, to change.

To embrace its best self and fear nothing but the act of fear.

Remember who you are, the little monster says.
It's smile infectious.

It knows you are love.

It knows your superpower is compassion.

REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE.
 

Be love.

Dream Date

In dreams we meet,
and sweetly you kiss my forehead.
The lands beyond the worlds
are safest for our date nights;

And even so -
there is so much work to do. . .
we cannot leave the planets
long to their own devices

Or so it seems. . .

For Every Lifetime

Oh love, my love,

delight of my soul -

ever unperterbed by human pride

knowing I will stand

between yourself

and danger

though you,

by far,

are the great one

and I,

I am only mortal

a flaming leaf

blown about
on boisterous winds

as always

oh love,

my love,

delight of my soul -

I am,
for every lifetime,
yours.

Is It Live or Is It a Story?

My love,

my love,

you sing the worlds to me

and I am born anew

but even so

I watch falling stones

explode within the atmosphere

and hear you laugh

as though you’d caught them

in the nick of time

‘by the skin of your teeth,’

you chuckle, stretching for

the dance.

‘knocked it out of the park,
didn’t I, Beloved?’

you ask,

plainly wanting to be praised

Oh my clever,

silly boy.

As with the Atraxi,

as with every fictional example

and every unsung real one

Nobody remembers your many little interventions

no one but me

and because you inspired

all the fictions round about

no one would ever

believe me

my brave and bold
and humble Love.

You never give your own name

you change your shape

to keep your secrets

to yourself

and yet you fish

for compliments. . .

“Only from you,

my Life.”

Eclipse Song

The worlds dance
around the Fires
all across the sky.

Every soul
looking out in wonder
Every heart
asking why.

See the moon
from this smallish place
looking out
past the stars

Hear the songs,
feel them in your bones
feel the words
of those who died.

Lift them up
in their joys and sorrows
Lift them up
as they come to earth.

A million years
oh so long ago now
A million more
and they'll sing our songs

On a long-distant
world near a Fire
They will hear our cry

And then they will pause,
consider --
the signal they hear was sent
a million years
before

Is it even there now?
Do the Children know
their Source?

Would that they
when hearing our song
honor those who have gone beyond!

The shell of this egg in which
we're nurtured
and which we call
this universe

My Lover dances
its Creation!

My Lover dances
life to Earth!

Step in quick determination!
Step in joyful harmony!

Twirl
and shake
and leap
in wonder!

All to honor dear Rahu!

-------------------Below is me singing the song------------------------------------

At Lady Althea's Request

The Beloved One
stands watch as the fires die;

frost seeks to gather,
sees Him and flees;

my own treasure
the fire of my soul
the Seeker after my mortal self;

our bond beyond
the knowing of the
bodied children

staunchly proud
of being Wiser
than ourselves.

Reminisences

The earth vibrates at a different rate

the humans 

(those the others have adapted)

aren't keeping up

and yet

the others tell them they are . . .

i suspect it is only a few

and those of us 

who hold the history

can expect

to hold the bag
while the rest suffer;
get blamed
when they are abandoned

again

Nothing is more annoying
than false gods
false angels
false saviors

telling us to keep our hearts open
(so they can more easily feed)
refusing to allow our boundaries to exist
so that our 'unconditional love'
can facilitate their abuse
of human sovereignty
and truth.

Alas!
I love them,
these human children,

even so.

and I am nothing
but a burning leaf
on the wind.

and one foot placed on the sacred earth
                         ..........so

opposite arm up toward the stars
... so

and my Lord
begins the Dance

The Eternal Now

My heart, my soul, my own true love

Endurer of ten thousand tortures

and yet, still,

you search me out

though I am as a leaf caught in flame

compared to You

I am born

and die

in the moment that

you blink your eyes

and the fact that even so,

I hear your heart

crying for my own

across all of space and time

“My Empress,

My Bride,

My Goddess . . .
come home to Me again!”

As my spirit cries for Yours . . .

Against all odds.

Against all rules

“We are Taboo”

you’ve told me more than once

“in every place we’ve ever lived.

But never will I let you go!

And always will you be protected -

for you are my hearts’ song!

You are the reason for my waking,

for my sleeping,

for my delight,

and for my mourning.

Without You,

Beloved One,

I cease to Exist . . .

so,

Taboo or not,

they all must rejoice

when I find you again.

For only in my joy in You

do any of them Live.”

Oh my Treasured One!

I am a burning leaf on the wind . . .

and yet . . . your kisses . . .