Compassion

The bully was bullied

The abuser, abused

How do I hold space

For both of the two

The Impossible Standard

The Impossible Standard

The problem with being a perfectionist

Is that you'll never cross off the whole list

There's always one more thing to do

Some mystery to solve, a cosmic clue

Every hair needs to be neatly in place

Not a trace of dust or mess in my space

All the dishes done, and the laundry too

Every weed pulled, bills paid, nothing due

Books all proofread, not a single mistake

Everyone thinks you're authentic, but feel like a fake

The occasional smile after a “How are you?”

Not revealing the truth, if they only knew

The depth of my anxiety, how I drown in fear

The shaking of my heart as I hold back my tears

Not thinking that I'm good enough, falling short

Making long-term plans, only then to abort

Business plans, projects, good intentions

So many ideas, too many to mention

Many a million-dollar idea not realized

Many a cherished dream that once I prized

Sunday Eclipse

I was the Priestess today, arriving at the Chapter Room early, and then going back out to the main entrance. I greeted each retreatant with a hushed whisper,  “Would you like to see the eclipse?” while handing over the protective glasses. 

This was compassion, offering the first look to the random gentleman who came down the path, making eye contact, smiling, sharing whispers of ancient secrets. Self-compassion - taking in the sun and the moon's energy in Libra straight into my heart, my solar plexus. Feeling my Libra relationships, as I smiled and shared my childlike Joy with each person.

Marianne had tears in her eyes, Sarah grinned ear-to-ear, and Catherine gave me a warm hug. I felt loved and appreciated. I'm so glad I brought them to share and not just for myself. feeling that Venus aspect of self-love, self-care.

I made sure everyone got a turn, but somehow one participant slipped in without me seeing him. This Eclipse will not be seen in North America again until 2039. Truly a Celestial experience. I felt humbled, in awe, and privileged.

Picnic Table

Heat of your palm

Love is eternal

Form shifts

Tendrils of Belief

 

Tendrils of Belief: Poems 1997 - 2006 

Picks up the adventures of our Baby Crone five years after Sappho’s Delights. No longer a maiden, she embraces motherhood, becomes a gay divorce, and moves from retail therapy to hypnotherapy. Spanning almost a decade, here is more scrumptious food for thought, nuggets to savor and relish. Inspired by Adrienne Rich’s, On Lies Secrets, and Silence, these tender tales continue a quest into a deeper knowing of self, family, and community. Prayers, meditations, affirmations, and some lamentations.

Ring of Fire

Sun streams through slats,

Blinding white.

Almost hostile,

Stabbing my eyes,

I reach for the twisty thing.

    Dust motes twinkle,

    As I spread Mom's old quilt.

    Tattered blue jeans, ripped, frayed,

    Sewn together- look! It has pockets!

Comfort zones come,

At a comfortable pace.

Ginger peach turmeric tea,

Sipping tangerine neon sunsets.

    Sure, the eclipse kissed the sun,

    ate her whole.

    Celestial travelers, clearing,

    Solar systems, solar plexus.

Perfect alignments,

Orbits and conjunctions,

Oppositions and trines

    Never still, never still.