Everything in life is an exchange,

Then you dry up.

Because… you just want to run free without the…

chains that are made when we bind to one another…

You give and give and give: and you realize:  HOLY emptiness!

HOLY junk!  HOLY room full of noise – and none of the voices are really

Yours. Are they?  Honestly?

All of a sudden a reflection isn’t there. There’s NO ONE on the other side of the glass…

But wait; there is… Plenty of tender, precious lifeforms.You get so wrapped up

in loving each one; each distinct and precious flower.

Plenty of people to Pay attention to, who desperately

what to be SEEN, loved.  YOU are ONE OF THEM!

And then, you just start the cycle over again, until it becomes so obvious that

WE LOVE EACH OTHER – should be your only password.

This dragon

is here to serve, to navigate space and time.

To me, this is my precious pearl:

The cultivation of my center

in the face of irritation and frustration.

One layer at a time, one day at a time.

For now, I sleep, unawakened.

Content to move with kundalini,

asleep, like a sailor on a calm sea.

Illustration by Wayne Anderson

There are things that come

When awake. Like right now…

I’m watching this snake

Uncoil

And face me.

I hear it HiSS in my mind

But it makes no sound.

Is that So, a sound, that is not to confound-

But in Love

A true Hiss. The other sound of Kiss?

This snake has a message for me.

Buried deep within the cavities of

The Earth.

She sleeps, you know.

She sleeps like a rock on a River bed,

dreaming of her own Softening.

We’ve got this upcoming New moon in Aquarius at 29 on the 18th – an anaretic degree, and a momentous New Moon/Solar eclipse on March 20 – in the anaretic degree of Pisces 29 – right on the heels of the final exact square Uranus/Pluto transit series of 7 (having lasted 2012-2015). The nodes of the moon have been referred to as the head and tail of the dragon or serpent. The nodes are mathemetical degrees (and not physical bodies). They are points that mark the Moon’s path where it crosses the ecliptic. This poem was not written for these transits but just happens to coincide with a time of passage.

It’s a simple question. The question itself i – when repeated – its own medicine. Who’s responsible for benefiting, perceiving, healing? You.

The truth for me is that I don’t really know in advance whether or not someone can benefit from any of my actions, good intentions, sharing of experiences. From any of my own work on myself. The truth is that I don’t know anything except that I am lucky to be alive and relatively healthy.

Maybe that is all I need to know. Whether in service to ‘self’ or ‘other’ a dualistic mind is still in the trappings of duality. However, if there is no ‘me’ and no ‘you,’ that is perhaps a possible definition of an inefficient brain. Discretion has a purpose, but who’s is worth relying on, other than your own? Ask.

We need to make constructions, make assumptions, think and have reason or else we might lose purpose, direction, and/or develop an inability to operate in the world. But to think and reason too much, gives us this false sense of power. Instead just ask, what is the magic working through us all? (Usually, there’s no definitive answer)

Sometimes lightness of being comes from the must curious places. Sometimes a zen koan can silence your mind instead of eliciting an endless response of ricochet. Sometimes “call and response” signatures can bring forth the most beautiful music.

That’s where I am now. I don’t ask you to benefit from reading this. I write it for me. My drum is nearly ready for the circle.

Aloha.

Please these videos remind me of my time spent in Africa, and my time spent in Pennsylvania…(either drumming, or my one and only ethnomusicology class) and probably further back.

Thanks to youtube: I found this: my favorite from my enthomusicology class back in early 2000ish. This CD was stolen with a couple of precious sterling silver rings when an apartment I had was broken into (twice!) back in Pittsburgh.  You know… I take this, as God’s return of love to me… joy, and the happiness of life! You will be healed!

P.S. So far I am keeping my original ‘typos,’ in some cases, they were appropriately wrong.

“Life has it’s own rhythm and you cannot impose your own structure upon it—you have to listen to what it tells you… It’s not earth that you move with a tractor—life is not like that. Life is more like earth that you learn about and plant seeds in.” —Jeff Buckley  (inspired by a FB post_ and my notes)

Heart Location:

Whoever you are

who makes me tick…

In the mediastinum of the thoracic cavity

2/3 left of center

whatever nature magically

attunes me

Hangs like a frame in the center of your Skeleton House. The top Center.

Base of Heart is Above

And its Apex Below

Like an inverted triangle is the female

Birthing downward

And making more Earth.     

❤

You can view some of Abby’s Art @ https://www.facebook.com/Finchfight

Ka Malana

I saved an empty page

With a title,

Designed for what may come,

Maybe a letter to the divine.

I saved the memory of a smile

Just in case,

I needed some more inspiration

to get up.

There’s always a dream within

A dream, it keeps on going

…burning

I’m unpainting my pictures now,

Washing them in white.

Opening into that knot of flame

That sharpens my 3^rd eye.

Yielding to the hot wax of emotion.

As it turns to liquid, dripping

…dripping

This wick of creation is melting and undressing

me from the inside.

You can come to me now

And you can live in me forever.

Ka Malana, 12/15/2014

Imagery was found at

Voice and Vision NJ

because of a google image search

If you or someone you love is in need of immediate assistance call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1−800−799−7233.

🙂

It was only in a silent moment

That I heard your voice

A Sufi whisper

An energetic shift.

It was only between a breath, the

Pause, that I opened the Great book.

It was only ever you, you who

Seek me

With poetry on your lips

You are made of sunshine.

You are a master of timeless vision.

You are a divine creature of joyfulness.

My poem is nothing but a testimony

To a moment, that I am lucky

May visit me again