Thoughts for the Day

This week the whirling dervishes of the Mevlevi Order celebrated the Shebi-aru Sema in commemoration of Rumi's passing - "the wedding night of the Beloved."

In that spirit I offer the following reflections...
"When you eventually see through the veils to how things really are,you will keep saying again and again,this is certainly not like we thought it was!"-Mevlana Jalaluddin Rumi

"No one knows what makes the soul wake up so happy! Maybe a dawn breeze has blown the veil from the face of God." - Rumi

Suleyman Hayati Dede, 'grandfather of the dervishes,' described the meditation practice of "the Turn" as follows:

"We do not turn for ourselves. We turn around in the way we do so that the light of God may descend upon the earth. As you act as a conduit in the Turn, the light comes through the right hand, and the left hand brings it into this world."

"Love is that flame that once kindled burns everything,and only the mystery and the journey remain."-- Rumi

And who is this aliveness

I am.

Self-contained heat and passion
I am like the ember in the fire pit
End of the day, heard so much
Took it all in and gave heat back.

Before becoming ashes again; one with earth


Seed.

Self contained wisdom and beauty
Then came the sun and the rain
And the dark soil softened my skin
And I burst forth a white crocus

Too soon picked by a child; happy to be chosen.

Song.

A woman wrapped her arms about a tree
and sang me all of once
I was released and returned to heaven
by way of the wind

What more could I ask for?

Once upon a time, I, Chuang Chou, dreamt I was a butterfly, fluttering hither and thither, to all intents and purposes a butterfly. I was conscious only of my happiness as a butterfly, unaware that I was Chou. Soon I awaked, and there I was, veritably myself again. Now I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly, dreaming I am a man.

Chuang Tsu

Love and Release

To love and be loved
To hold and be held
To attend to and be attended to so sweetly
To have direct experience
of the core of all that one desires so fully

Who would say no to this offering?
Knowing it is to be bittersweet in the earthly plane

I will tell myself as many times as I must

I love and release
I love and release
I love and release

And the taste of honey
is on my tongue once more

And I know I have been visited again
by the Spirit of Guidance

The Peace of Wild Things

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting for their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

By Wendell Berry

From Collected Poems (North Point Press) © 1985

haikus for the dulcimer

Off center, golden
stonework crawls up the walls
ivy vines made of shale

108 strings to tune
a devotional practice
tuning in for God

A few missed notes
part of the beauty that is
true live music played

8.17.08

Hope and Optimism

"The difference between hope and optimism: Optimism is based on the facts - it looks pretty good out there and it's going to get better. Whereas hope - it doesn't look good at all, but we're going to take the leap of faith to create new visions based on possibilities that become contagious to encourage people to engage in rogue actions always against the odds, no guarantee whatsoever, that's hope."- Cornel West

How often has hope served me. -Deborah

haikus after morning's walking meditation

morning's light falls soft
on dewed grass that calls to birds
the worms await you

messenger birds seek
and find with every inquiry
fresh morsels of life

would i rather be
the bird or the worm this morn
eating or eaten?

so long as i am
moving toward the One i have
no real preference

Farewell to Goldbar 8.18.08

Moon waning for good
where visits to this sacred site
are concerned. Tears fall.

May my body be
a truth-filled barometer
vessel for spirit

Vessel and Spirit
may they be a love match
as bride and bridegroom

Tender is the morning
that follows lost innocence
when love visited

And truth gave birth to truth

the vision...the mission

I am ecstatic Sacred Witness,
Peaceful Calming PRESENCE,
Transparent, Connected,
QUIET STRENGTH.

I am EMPATHIC PRIESTESS and POET.
I shimmer Divinity.

As Graceful Power
my purpose is to honor and surrender my sorrow,
embrace and express JOY,
and dance with the Divine.

so much listening
what swims below the surface
breakwater holds joy

for joan

Butterfly lightness
Color seeking to express
Itself, this is you.

haiku dialogue

finally, you come
opening wide, crying out
new pearls, haiku-dew

dear anonymous:

and who are you that
you write so beautifully
hide not, poet, friend

to be continued, pretty please

haiku trio for you

Moon waxing toward full
a fine time for new ventures
maple leaves are gossips

Let come to pass the
last days of summer gestures
foretelling sweet tales

And kindred souls pick
summer berries till the gloaming
for breakfast in bed

Meditation for the Day

23. Prayer (the Transformation Tarot)

Love and the law of Moses

Let your gestures be alive, spontaneous. Let your own awareness decide your lifestyle, life pattern. Don't allow anybody else to decide it. That is a sin, to allow anybody else to decide it.

Why is it a sin?--because you will never be in it. It will remain superficial, it will be hypocrisy. Don't ask anybody how to pray. Let the moment decide, let the moment be decisive, and the truth of the moment should be your prayer. And once you allow the truth of the moment to possess you, you will start growing and you will know tremendous beauties of prayer. You have entered on the path.

A famous story about Moses: He was passing through a forest and he saw a man praying. The man was saying such absurd things that Moses had to stop. What the man was saying was profane, sacrilegious. He was saying, "God, you must be feeling sometimes very alone--I can come and be always with you like a shadow. Why suffer loneliness when I am here? And I am not a useless person either--I will give you a good bath, and I will take all the lice from your hair and your body..."

Lice?! Moses could not believe his ears: what is this man talking about? "And I will cook food for you--everybody likes what I cook. And I will prepare your bed and I will wash your clothes. When you are ill I will take care of you. I will be a mother to you, a wife to you, a servant, a slave--I can be all kinds of things. Just give me a hint so I can come..."

Moses stopped him and said, "What are you doing? To whom are you talking? Lice in God's hair? He needs a bath? Stop this nonsense! This is not prayer. God will be offended by you." Looking at Moses, the man fell at his feet. He said, "I am sorry. I am an illiterate, ignorant man. I don't know how to pray. Please, you teach me!"

So Moses taught him the right way to pray, and he was very happy because he had put a man on the right track. Happy, puffed up in his ego, Moses went away. And when he was alone in the forest, a thundering voice came from the sky and said, "Moses, I have sent you into the world to bring people to me, to bridge people with me, but not to take my lovers away from me. And that's exactly what you have done. That man is one of the most intimate to me. Go back and apologize. Take your prayer back! You have destroyed the whole beauty of his dialogue. He is sincere, he is loving. His love is true. Whatsoever he was saying, he was saying from his heart, it was not a ritual. Now what you have given to him is just a ritual. He will repeat it but it will be only on the lips; it will not be coming from his being."

on having faith

in the wee hours
amid the thick night airs
come the changes

changes of heart and
shadows taking form grow full
but I stay the course

telling not a one
of my deep concerns, unfounded
for I still believe

I believe in love
grace visits those who hold true
as sunlight at dawn

dark nights and bad dreams
have no power here, for peace
moved in for good

the memory of all that

no, no they can't take that away from me

and my mind takes a wander
down a memory lane
remembering all the same
things said and done
for love

i sang to the trees
i kissed the wind
i wrote the words
my heart declared
my soul confirmed

and day did come
as night did pass

the memory of all that
no, they can't take that away

KEEPING QUIET ~ Pablo Neruda

Now we will count to twelve and we will all keep still.

For once on the face of the earth,

let's not speak in any language;

let's stop for a second,

and not move our arms so much.

It would be an exotic moment

without rush, without engines;

we would all be together in a sudden strangeness.

Fisherman in the cold sea would not harm whales

and the man gathering salt would not look at his hurt hands.

Those who prepare green wars,

wars with gas, wars with fire,

victories with no survivors,

would put on clean clothes and walk about with their brothers

in the shade, doing nothing.

What I want should not be confused with total inactivity.

Life is what it is about.....

If we were not so single minded about keeping our lives moving,

and for once could do nothing,

perhaps a huge silence might interrupt this sadness

of never understanding ourselvesand of threatening ourselves with death.

Perhaps the earth can teach us,

as when everything seems dead in winter and later proves to be alive.

Now I'll count up to twelve

and you keep quiet and I will go

an inventory of a restless soul

1am and i am taking note
of the angel of courage on my desktop
beside the iron pig statue with wings
i bought for myself to celebrate
my commitment to self-employment
one piece of apophyllite to keep me clear in all my conversations
a chipped statuette of a bride and groom
the one memento i've got of my great-grandmother
the one i loved so dearly
more than any other relative
buddha in a mandala
a kindergarten photo of my dear child
with a smirk that makes you wonder
what does she know already?
and i pray she remembers
a plaster mother mary 1-1/2" tall with fine details
a string of seven red buddha beads
and a japanese bell to mark each day
tomorrow's mail to post
and a pile of chinese fortune cookie treasures
promising health and wealth
"in bed"

an altar have i made
of this desk i write at and work at
long and happy hours
surrounded by old friends and new hopes

the perc test

testing soil
can be simple
you might have to wait
10 minutes

or a day and a night
for the soil's reply to water

percolation goes on in my head
long after the soil responds
or doesn't

loam, clay, sand, pebbles
what am I?
what are you?

perhaps together we can offer a young plant a place to grow?

The Real Work

It may be that when we no longer know what to do
we have come to our real work,
and that when we no longer know which way to go
we have come to our real journey.

The mind that is not baffled is not employed.The impeded stream is the one that sings.

- © Wendell Berry

to the muses of my blessed life

Rain beautiful rain
creates many good reasons
to stay close to home
and many wonderful things
need no more than two good friends

i.
canopy of trees
heavy with leaves and
tomorrow's flowers

ii.
trees that bear no fruit
are yielding still to beauty
by simply blooming

iii.
gentle rain could soak
my warm skin like thirsty soil
if I but step outside

to walk and wander
not aimlessly, but freely
with sweet intentions

a great intelligence
keeps me company, all times
all seasons, so fair

When I choose letting go
and I see how wise I am actually being
I look around for what next to release

Confident and trusting completely
this grand intelligence that will send back
that intended to keep me company a while.

Quiet vitality poured into an empty vessel
long empty of wine or water
life's waters spilled over the top in moments
thirsty earth and heart and grass and seeds
drank deeply and bloomed

Oh how they all bloomed
Look at what spring has brought in for the dinner table
and look who joins us

night after day after night

To All the Ones I've Loved Before

(This is not a tribute to Willie Nelson, although I did enjoy the outdoor concert several years back. He's a consummate performer, deep into his 70s and going strong.)

Rather, it is an open letter to the Ones I've ever had the fortune
of serendipitously meeting
only then to fall in love with,
fall out of love with,
never to speak again
or ever after friends,
fields will go fallow and after a frozen winter and a muddy spring,
crocuses would bloom again that I could see THEM for all their beauty and oh the blessings!

And then it comes to me: "I have yet to mortally die because of a broken heart. What a thing to celebrate!"

"I have yet to die because of a broken expectation set by me? What a sweet and glorious revelation."

"Will I ever be able to love again in the same crooked way?"

I suspect not.

I may go to a fallow place a while
I will surrender my body to the earth again
Oh Gaia that my tears can nourish seeds in the soil
That I might cocoon awhile
Wrap myself in self-generated silk
Sleep awhile
That I might emerge for yet another season

A butterfly with a simple mission.

If you know how to love...

If you love, you will know that everything
begins and everything ends,
and there is a time for beginning
and there is a time for ending,
and there is no wound in it.

One is not wounded, one simply knows the season is over.
One is not in despair, one simply understands and one thanks the other:

"You gave me so many beautiful gifts. You gave me new visions of life, you opened a few windows I might never have opnede on my own.
Now the time has come that we separate and our ways part."

Not in anger, not in rage, not with a grudge,
not with any complaint,
but with tremendous gratitute,
with great love,
with thankfulness of heart.

If you know how to love,
you will know how to separate.

Osho

A new year's eve memory

I find myself with one more hour to do as I please
And how might I spend this time?
I've quizzed myself and aced it!
Sitting very still a while
Drinking in the silence
Capturing like fireflies, a wishlist for the coming months
Releasing a spider that found it's way in from the cold
One last cup of tea to sip this year
A final wash up of cups and teapot
A deep intake of night air to fuel and color what dreams may come
Bedtime rituals sacred and mundane
Make for yet again another memorable slumber