softly drawn is dawn

Opening to green

It’s birthday time.

and, I’ve been lighting candles

with fervor

burning away what is not working

illuminating the path, to show me the way.

in response, perhaps, the years have been softening me

though, I have not directly asked for that ~

showing me, in all my wrongness, there’s one thing I have right:

my love.

my growing capacity to love.

personal love,

impersonal love,

love of thyself

love of the moment

love of fleeting passion present

love that burns through time and space, with such eternity

knowing no end can ever come of it, because it would only do it to itself, and it really wouldn’t, because it’s matured.

This is my communion, my continuity, my flame for this life. This is my time, and this is its purpose.

and, I am so sincerely present.

without a doubt, I’ve never hidden under a basket.

nor behind a cloak.

I have been the bare me all along.

I have born myself of raw flesh and spirals

I have broken skin and wishes and daydreams.

My knees have been skinned on so many near-almosts…

…absolute misses…

while

Going for it, going for it all.

and there is never a guarantee in the program

the program is not built for guarantees. The whole thing is based on risks and risk assessments.

They say that only the courageous or the stupid put it all out there.

how about the one who knows

that there’s nothing else that’s worth it. Holding back is actually the norm.

and the more i can dig in, this year and next year, and maybe more years after that,

the more dirt under my nails, the more fires smoking in my eyes, the more the holy reckoning,

the more moments of absolute REST after the sheer ‘enoughness’ of my irrevocable ALL

I know I’m living.

I’m doing it.

HBD to me.

🎉

and if I should part before too soon

or even near soon at all,

I shall know that what I’ve done here,

is really, really lived.

“Poem 20” Day 20

He took away my voice

Because I wasn’t good enough for him

My vulnerability

Didn’t matter.

My wings were easily clipped

Because I had not yet developed my

Center.

So my voice disappeared

🌌🌟

One day, I will rise

From the dead

silent

Music-less dungeon

where I was sunken, captive

for too long.

Until then,

I just whisper

And consider

what will heal this

Overwhelmed chironic

Taurean wound.

I see echos of her

spacious flying delight,

but still, she is not here.

Her desire has not fully

woken.

Poem 19 Day 19

The Medicine way

The gift you gave me

as your conduit

fresh fruit

Ready made magic marker

from the invisible pen of the divine

Sparkler

Each soul I serve

Adds light to my footsteps

Traces grace to my smile

So much love

So much peace

Rains down on me

The roots from the ground rise

Up and join thee

Nourish us

You, medicine hands,

Have shown me guidance

Shown me the

limitless source

of blossoming

Humbling me

Bringing me to my knees

In gratitude,

The opportunity

To soul-climb

Ascension, raising vibrations

In all dimensions, no negations

Secret serenade with

Jupiter and Uranus amplifies inventions

With intentions

I let it flow

My voice speak low

Oscillates,

The drum of my belly

The sound descending,

The spirit incarnating,

The Earth reforming,

My lips entraining,

We are re-gaining,

Ground.

Poem 15 Day 15

The portal opens

To a world with tangled branches

Alive and gnarled, character-filled

some would say.

The little man runs and skips

even does back-flips as he dances

And acrobats his way to the bottom of a tree.

At the tree’s bottom a single golden ring lay

it shines so bright he covers his eyes

But the ring is a fairy in disguise

She was at tree’s bottom, root home

In the kitchen when she heard some

Polecats munching

And snickering

She came out to see what is the ruckus

When the little man was among us

And too close a call,

She rolled herself into a tiny, golden ball

That collapsed in the center

She’s lucky she didn’t get a splinter.

She moved so fast and

Sure, he did fall, as he ran toward her

He skidded to a halt

Not knowing what the light was about

He began to shout!

“Ahhh! Unseen realms do not pout!

Show me what you are all about.”

Like that she poofed out of a golden ring

And into a fairy again.

Soon she discovered this man is

Her friend.

She and he

danced around the tree’s roots,

went into the garden

and dug up some chutes

They opened the door to the fairy home

and she said, “Well this place is also good for you, Mr Gnome.”

So “Come on in,

and I’ll write you a poem.”

dropped.

Ka Malana Photography

It’s a good thing that I noticed that this scheduled post i set up last night didn’t get posted right. I had mistakenly scheduled it for the PM. Nope, that wasn’t my preference. Did I drop the ball? LOL This year we are setting a “tone” for future traditions. It’s so much fun. Planning and dreaming together is working in my little mental “cave” of inspiration–we embark on the creativity train. There is some “choo-chooing” output for this Nanopoblano via my HOMAGE to Kauai and also my Homage to the Tao Te Ching, intertwining. Meanwhile, so much else going on behind the scenes. This is probably the best part of “social media;” that is, the real life. Social media backlights the “real life” and like Plato’s shadowy cave, social media only shows “some of it.”

How are you all doing? How is Nanopoblano going? I am visiting your blogs, best I can. I think i’m doing better than previous years, thanks to my partial scheduling strategy. Also trying to schedule ahead our family lives, 2024. There’s really just ONE more week of this NanoPoblano November Challenge! We can DO THIS! I’m gearing up for “December Delights.” I think I’m moreso just having fun with catch phrases and new potential blogging themes that inspire me.

brown breasted singer

melody me

sing me to fruition

sing me to glee

your black head

is a perfect thermostat

to deliver your colorful voice.

i sit on this branch with you

quiet, yet, filled with nature

sitting and feeling

feeling and singing

being in the praise

of this life.

And even, including. the bird. poop.

my good luck!