Estrella had stepped with her bare foot into the wet. The fresh blacktop had baked all day in the heat, and was still slightly warm in the summer rain despite the dark hour. Now her own tears had quite bored her from the late afternoon onward, but that didn't stop them from forcing their way out, leaking sporadically in clumsy gobs between one task and another. Her whole household was asleep. The whole neighborhood was long past quiet. She could be with her own self now, truly, and she breathed the night. It quickened her step to a run, long hair streaming behind, stuck to her bare arms also, drops from the light rain riding her curls. She slowed now, a light laugh adorning her mouth and nose. Her heart had returned to her, and they were again on friendly terms. Her pale skirt, full at the bottom, had taken on water. Ah, well. She had thought, initially, to bring the baby along on her adventure, to protect her from actively seeking her own damage. Ridiculous, of course, as little Eliza should be protected from any humans seeking to do harm this late. Or early. The hour, Estrella. The hour. Eliza lay snugly in her crib, snoring lightly, dreaming maybe, and in G*d's arms. Estrella wondered if she was in any G*d's arms at all at the moment, and a small dry laugh, but she knew she felt good. So there was G*d in it somewhere, must be. Felt less like a partnership, more like sibling rivalry. But was G*d with her? Most definitely. Relief. Night. Walking. She delighted in her stride, feeling her muscles working, an orchestra to carry her body where she chose. Why was being alive so much easier at night? She wondered suddenly how far away she was, two miles? More? Maybe not so wise in bare feet to keep going. All right. She found a large puddle, shallow, clean. She swiped her right foot through the tepid water lengthwise. She had wanted that feeling, which was as expected, and enjoyed the visual effects that pools of water always afford. In her mind, she began to turn home (with regret), and then she turned her body in the same direction. A bit of fear crept up. Well, that was a surprise. She quickened her pace a bit, wondering why she hadn't borrowed someone's dog for the little sojourn. Ah yes. Because at the start of it, her & her heart had lost touch. Thus, there was no fear of harm due to no awareness of her own value. Less painful that way to be sure. Less painful without love, yet the walking death is it's own brand of hell, and the soul will fight to break it. "Thank G*D!" She shouted in the general direction of the sky. "Thank Youuuuuuu..."
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Had that bad dream again, at the Mission, oh no not this one again knew it like the back of my hand. First time I remember it awake. The one where the energy came to choke in a literary way, big big trouble in part our own making (?). No one could outrun it. No one could get past the gate, falling to the ground with sick, or far worse, dragged UP the closest wall. I had predicted it but not quickly enough. I was the usual litmus test, and also responsible for them. A wife like person. A rebbitzin like person. I don't know if we were Christian, but we were group leaders. I was unofficial. I don't think I was your wife, or not yet. All respectable, don't get me wrong, no problem with THAT. Oh you I think were the preacher, so I guess we may have been Christian.. When I say you, I don't know who you are now, today in this life. I just don't. But this bud may be for you, be careful. I was surprised by the way I knew this dream, as if I'd dreamed it a thousand times. I was very surprised by its contents, the strength of them. What on earth was it, what causes that? Did we merely awaken it? Or, as it felt, did we do something to actually cause it & what the hell could that have been? Were we bad & selfish people, or people who meant well but majorly screwed up? What on earth could we have done? You, reader - connected of my soul- does it seem familiar to you or no? There was a medium-tall tower, quite usual for the time & place. We were not natives. Whole group on a mission. No one died in this event, we persevered, I don't know how. Beyond that a have no information. I'm hoping imagery was metaphoric, but I suspect not. Some star studded occasion Oh, a paltry equation & I stuck myself there like a berry First my idiot's gauge, then Soul wouldn't be caged So it left for a time without bearing Body went weak, Couldn't move, couldn't speak Hardly could think empty casing Evenings of grieving Unseen growth through bereaving As for days don't know how I went through them Searing pain without title, oh Some silent recital; Shadows of battles long shielded? Layed down bricks I could step on Turned to sand if I held them Lit those candles whose presence I suffered Floating listless but breathing Saved by Grace & Tzadikim Wringing past apathy & distraction Truthful breath in causation Open to the gyration Looking up & my heart looking inward Give no energy to lies; Cross my heart, no one dies And a new Spirit view to rely on On my own journey's tree Oh she wasn't not me Yet I shine now, my Light's true reflection. Put it all in the pot The Haves, the have nots Take another Other shot From behind the broke box When it is the strike Yet another spiked pike Moment's shift inside the dome Bring a life of sharp stripes Hold a loved one clear Hold your Self, dear smeared So many people dead Over Fears, Tears, Years Knees made to be bent Heart is scent, spent, rent Mend it then, hold your head There's more slash coming next Pull on through, hold it up Love your cups, huffy pup Stop the muck, lucky buck Bring the right grub to the hut Dig a hole, whole in one Hole on up, but don't get gone Raise it high, O stunning sun Hail thyself but we're not done Move into the depth of You And now be true, be black or blue Soften to the warring feud Sea & Clear, parts of the brew Turn it next, tender flowers Power Cower (extract dour) Damage heals; devotion's power Put it in Your book of Hours Lay it out so there's a record Love the fools & love the hecklers Push us all (receptive check-ers) We'll meld us all right back together *authors note, I suggest reading aloud maybe but anyone listening should also be looking at the text. Best to you. 05032015 started shortly after 7 p.m. What is the work now under the covers Where is the heartland of home to discover Plants growing sideways, birds singing (chaste) The soil, air & water hold hatred & waste Sky full of promise, angels of healing Blessings for eyes so much more than revealing So many bricks we have baked toward destruction Building that temple from self loathing functions Well pulling down falsehoods is such thankless work "Please help me"; be ready to roll in the dirt Ancient songs call us, the oldest still playing What can be ours, a symphonic portraying Order and angels and every soul singing Hurry please, loved ones, our destiny's waiting. Pen to paper like parting the sea, every single time. What words may come this writer knows never. Many beautiful things are noticed during the course of a busy day. Tucked into the mind for later. For this I'm ever grateful, I know it's not the case for many & was not always the case for me. It seems today's scrawl, this moment, is an honest little jot. Poems were trying to form themselves from aforementioned noticed things, but, not enough time for completion. Maybe later. I'd like to inform any reader how important it is, what you bring me with your presence(s) electronic or personal. A smile, a painting done by you or a child, and bits of writing especially. I'm starving for puzzle pieces, always. Don't ever think you can't put input in the pot, friend! But do please be careful. Be considerate, notice detail, proceed with kindness & teach it to others. No, I don't always do it either but I'm striving. So, maybe, when you don't feel like being loving.. Try to remember that ingrained compassion is super sexy. XO, your oldest friend. In a thicket needing mending Who's to pull the changing Drawers of poorly organized And everything is spending Everything is spending, love, everything is spending. Who is in the pantry now, and Who will do the catching? In another suburb there, and everyone cries fetching. Everyone cries fetching, because everyone goes fetching. Elephants & Orca whales, Dodo & Great Auk Can we ever learn to love before we call it lost, love We must really learn to love before we call it lost. And then another dove cries foul, Yet another wretching The wrong blessings uttered children, said the wrong blessings. Have we said the wrong blessings? Calliope and so much wrong Discord, anathema Put it in your spent fuel pool Then bring it out much later Spoon it out for handling love, pass it like potatoes. Turn it too, the only way The only option open Your Self the key to fit all locks You're larger than the oceans Larger than the oceans, child Larger than the oceans Pins around heartstrings, Wraparound pulleys What's in the cupboard Can never be fully The story of Mary, Esti or Janie All through Earth's shadows Are threads of explaining Each one a tangle, and each one a candle Cherish each other, and love when it's futile Love through the armor, (lightens up evil) For who can be angry can also be fruitful Put it together to never be careless Each breathing moment is one for your bailiff "Repeat after using", let someone love you May the oneness of Truth Hold you through the tango Gazing, gazing at the sea of green grass, each blade growing in an unknowable symmetry. She had to assume it based on what she had learned in her 44 years. In another time, in another wish, she had been somewhere else, which was something (she assumed). What she carried with her here, now, she attempted to dismantle & present in part because she knew it was her purpose, a purpose, and partly because she had a continuos hope to be useful. She swirled her spoon in her coffee, lifted it to her lips and took a big gulp. Made her smile every time. Made some mental notes, then some physical ones, then closed her eyes to open herself & dream. Ok, to see first. The globe. The creatures on it, and men & women. Negative things happening currently, yes. Well then. She imagined the hughes of those scenarios dimming, the lights of each soul involved growing brighter, exposing the illusion, negativities breaking apart and falling around each shining new body, new person, new destiny. She thought about her favorite Jenny Holzer, form of: tshirt- "IN A DREAM YOU SAW A WAY TO SURVIVE AND YOU WERE FILLED WITH JOY". Yes, this was the only way to survive wasn't it? World peace, every soul, everyone? She blinked inside, then her eyes blinked open. Cat eyes blinked back expecting breakfast, or something else interesting. "After enlightenment, chop wood & carry water". Or feed pets, as the case may be. Intention set, unexpected arrival of joy a much appreciated happy accident, and now there was physicality to attend to. Maybe just one poem, though, before the usual fight.. Roll a four Feet on the floor What could be coming Will never abhor A moment of kindness (It's a moment not wasted) Love's machinations Multiply tasted Whence comes the challenge Whence comes the grief Often annoying But never a thief Remember my darling In all of these callings The rivers are flowing Your life is a crowning The glories you know of The glories you don't Leave it to angels Let the goat go Dreaming. One can dream in surrender, or dream it up, dream it into. I had a dream recently, one that started via surrender in the usual manner after falling asleep. It was an anxiety dream, very pedestrian or so it seemed. I was driving, trying to find a common store on a main road that I wasn't familiar with- as if I was in another town. According to previous research, it was supposed to pop up any time along the strip where I was headed, but I wasn't exactly sure how far. I would get anxious, talk myself down, repeat. Then a voice (in the dream it was my own brain) said "you're not driving, look." And I did look. There was no road exactly, no steering wheel, & everything was presented as flat bands of color, as in a comic book. Well. All right then. Which means.. Which means I do not need to follow car driving rules. I can focus, & go there. Somewhere in that process, I realized that I was dreaming & roused myself, the reminder remaining. If you focus, you can just go there. Extraneous negative thoughts or unhelpful energies whatever form they take can be strained away from the task at hand, large or small, with commitment and focus on what is truly wanted out of any given situation. So, We Can Do It, yes, like the t-shirt says. And here's the next line, the other shoe- you must do it. Content of distractions is not meaningless, but Direction must be chosen in the ever-new responsibility of Dreaming/Into. Happy Cleaning. |
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