Sunday, November 25, 2012

Let us!

Let us be bound
By the magnet in our hearts
Let us be covered by a healing blanket of understanding
Let us rejoice in eachother's freedom as well as our own
Let us quench our minds with discovery of ourselves and our world
Let us leave all expectation behind except that of a hand to hold on the road
A playmate for the adventure
A hug to ease the pain of our darkest hour.

Saturday, November 17, 2012

Source

Oh Source, my healer
I lost our connection
Through fear and gratification

Yet none can take you away
I alone can honor you.
I, alone can use you.

You are my beloved.
The one who fulfills me,
No matter who I am with.

Oh healer, lover, beloved
I choose you.
I commune with you.
In the ecstasy of every moment.

Loss not Love

Heartache does not mean that I love.
It means that I have lost.
An ancient loss, dressed up in a new cloak,
The cloak of my beloved.

My ancient love, lost in insanity
Left me, ignored me, abandoned me,
When I was innocent and open.
It took me from paradise
And landed me in fear.

Years of wandering my mind and heart
Years of searching for my way back.
The love of my life destroyed by the anxiety inside.

Now he leaves me behind
Tired of the pain,
Wanting more from life and love.
And I ache for him.
Ache for the moments I did not appreciate,
Because of the empty cavern in my heart.

Now it gapes at me everytime I think of him.
And no peace is found in my day.
Unless, I go inside this cave
And find forgiveness for myself and all.
Unless I see myself naked
And only then can I truly love.

Baby Girl



She shivers,
So I surround her with myself.

She curls into a ball.
Again she is inside me.

She is humanity.
She is the planet.
She is all that is.

And I hold her in my heart.
And I love her.
And I am her.
And we are Love.

Real



I allow healing
Through water, rock, air.
I integrate back into the essence of life.
I dissolve.
And so my pain dissolves
And so my attachment dissolves
And I am real.

Heart shaped Rock



Heart shaped rock
In my pocket,
Placed on my heart,
My head,
My seat.
Took away tension,
And released me.

Let me be a heart shaped rock!
Let me join with all that is,
And be the alchemy,
Transforming pain into new life,
That gives gentle strength,
Humble wisdom and endless love!

Purple Cloud



I look outside
At purple cloud
At dancing tree
At silky water.

I look inside
Beyond discomfort,
Beyond grasping,
Beyond yearning.

And I see.
Purple cloud
Dancing tree
Silky water.

Thursday, September 20, 2012

Freedom

A taste of freedom settled on the pallet of my mind.
There was nothing to spit out in order to appreciate the taste.
There was just consumption.

It did beg the question, why?
Why today? What’s different?

I know of this taste.
I read of it in books.
Witnessed it in movies.
Like a starving child, I watched a fleeting banquet.

It is a simplicity of the mind,
A peacefulness of the heart,
A richness of the soul,
A contentment with oneself, one’s life.
It is without striving.
It is moving gracefully towards a goal,
Or many goals,
Or no goal.
It is being on one’s path.

Each step is unknown,
Each movement, an act of faith,
Each gesture supported by light, by air, by magnetism and electricity.
It is quantum.

Before reaching this fragile state,
I lived in my brain.
Logic mixed with violent urges dictated my mode of transportation
Through the landscape of reality.
Now I use light.
The yellow orange ether that rises behind the rooftops,
framed by my bedroom window,
Greets me with a smile too early in the morning,
And summons me to rise, to meditate, to breath, to stretch.

What changed?
When did I stop being hurt and upset?
When did I stop trying to fix the world and myself?
When did I begin to envelope my loved ones with empathy for their tiny woes?
Before, they sucked dry the energy I needed to make life better.
Now, I cry with them, laugh with them, hurt with them.

Now, I am free.

Be my Lover!

Be my lover!

Slide all over my body,
Cover me with your skin and your soul.
Let us laugh and look deeply into each other.
Let us be quiet together
Listening to life in our stillness.
Let me lie on your breath,
Soothed by your rhythms.
Let us push, pull, move each other
To express the longings of our hearts and bodies.
Let us release joy and passion in sweat and tears
And fun.

Be my lover!

I will hold your head against my chest
I will grace you with pleasure, subtle and intense.
I will be with you even when I’m not,
Carrying you in my mind
I will bring you home

Be my lover!

Happy endings are in each moment
Tracing your muscles
Wiping droplets from your brow
Seeing them glisten in your hair
Interweaving your legs in mine
Surprising you, admiring you, delighting you

Be my lover!

I will abandon myself to your arms
I will release the pain of past lovers,
All erased, all forgotten
Leaving only the light vulnerable strength
Of love without expectations

Be my lover!

Saturday, September 15, 2012

Linking Moments

Bows laden with big green leaves,
Weighed down with rain,
Shaken by warm wind,lull me.

Stuck in traffic, the window slightly open,
I hear sounds of a wet city
As I await movement
On the Lakeshore.

My head needs quiet
To savour something that just came alive.
Yet, distant honking comforts me,
Do all cities sound the same?

I glance at the mud
Separating east and west travelers
Tire marks, the shape of two interlocking hearts
Love is here.

Friday, March 16, 2012

Being Irish

What is it to be Irish?

To be born on a piece of earth to parents who were born on the same,

Nourished by its wind and rain?



To inherit the history

Of violence, pain and addiction?

To honor Irish ancestors,

Who created our land as it is today,

Who fought for our freedom,

Who sacrificed themselves,

For our well-being?



Is it to embrace a language

That was taken away,

That seems so difficult,

Yet resonates in our very core?

How it fills us with strength, pride and courage!

How it rolls off our tongues!



Is it to partake in a culture that was almost destroyed-

The songs of pain and glory

The songs of love and freedom

The poetry of the great ones of our land,

The art, the dance?

We were called savages,

But even the lowliest among us philosophizes,

even the poorest writes or paints

Or sings.



Is it to be Catholic, Protestant, pagan or druid?

The spiritual quest of the Irish has long been

Communion with nature, with each other,

With the Divine.



Is it to be funny? A drinker? A fighter?

Is it to laugh off the mockery?

Is it to not take ourselves too seriously?

Is it the adaptability we have learned,

Through famine, injustice, poverty, abuse and oppression?



Why is it important to dig into our roots?

Are we not citizens of the world?

Is it not a global economy?

Is this patriotism not outdated?



My roots are my ties to my family, my tribe

To whom I owe my life.

My roots make me who I am.

My roots sink me deep into the roots of all humanity.



For what is the deepest desire of the Irish soul?

Our history has taught us its value.

What is the deepest desire of any soul?

To be free, my friend, to be free!