Meandering

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The physics of depth

includes both speed and inertia

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Meandering

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A flexible still point

in chaos

and

timeless trust

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Artist: Bill Gingles

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Enigma

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Rooted in the Greek word for “riddle”

I steady myself

in the middle of the stream

So much rain

I wish I’d worn back straps on my flip flops

standing in the strong current

but

 I’ll not wander in the side eddies

where the slickest algae

coats the surface of the stones

still idling there

passing time as if singular

feigning reflection

 an intoxicated accumulation

of over fertilized organic matter

 girdling themselves

as if they could hold on to the ground

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My days have been emptying

full of the feeling that I’m living

in two separate realities

  More than a waiting game

too much hard evidence

A pack that needs to be cleaned out

and made into a traveling case of essentials

fit for lifting off and moving

in even faster flowing water.

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photo credit: Russell Tomlin Flickr

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After the fire

fire dreaming 2Fire dreaming . June 2013

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Imagining sparks from earth’s stones

I envisioned the extension

of light

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Coalescing with heat

I opened like a flower

once again

to the erogenous

seduction of words

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After the fire

the waiting

seeds

are poised

as I gaze into the unknown

placing my trust

in the river

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nothing and everything

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nothing and everything

arrives unexpected

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listen listen

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and I hear the rising of my own story

surfacing for protection

who am I then?

the sum of my parts

or who I am becoming?

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this aching is an intention

radiating in waves

the energy

a voluntary take over

I can feel it everywhere

my sex, my stomach, my bottom lip

inundated I feel I am sinking

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drenched in the running colors

I wade to shore

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the more I surrender

the more transparent I’m becoming

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 sentient

I hear

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the earth is weeping

 

As a child

swing

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I remember

arms and legs

working

everything into my mouth

pebbles dirt bees

I sang the earth

running rubber knees

kicking the sky swing

standing where the rain just……..stopped

laden fruit trees

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I was used to shining light in the dark

glasses in the sun

hiding blindness

running ahead

while looking back

I trip upon the truth

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now that I am on

the outside of the mountain

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I’m trusting

that

love knows

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photo credits: http://www.flickr.com/photos/jp_42/4930340343/