Do what humans do

Find shelter, find food, teach and care for the children.

Plan for the winter, work in the spring, harvest in the summer, keep working while you sing.

Sing the stories so all remember how to make their way, through the seasons and the nights, through the heat of the warmer days.

Remember where you came from, remember where you have been, remember where your going when the waters rise again.

Make your fire and tend it in the circle that you keep.

Sleep in the bed your hands have made and wake from the mercy of sleep.

Carry your peoples history balanced on your hip, a new face and a new life trip begins,

and so they too will learn to do what humans do.

Progress

If I look out from this mountain top I can see history twist and wind along the skin of the earth, old roads leading to new ideas.

I see mothers backs carrying children, I see horses carry riders, covered wagons, smoking trains, noisy model T's, quiet street cars, humming buses and the winding sing of a motorcycle zipping along pavement at 110.

Here simple people with humbly simple lives collected along the river banks walking with mindful gratitude for the harvest offered by the Mother. Simple abundance was the mantra that served them.

I see busied people who live under the sky but never notice the clouds, they rush about like the builder ants after a rain and I wonder if they have lost the ability to smell spring arriving.

We are a new species grown from the the sacrifices of our ancestors, we with our new abilities never needed before, bred for speed and intelligence ,doing unintelligent things, dependant on the whole, freedom sacrificed for convenience and ever competing to have it all.

We starve at the breast of our Mother because we no longer recognise her face, no comfort can be found at her touch, we are hard and we are lost in the illusion of technologies abundance.

Camping

I drove to the place where the woods still had magic. It was far from the city and far from the traffic of everyday life and everyday places, everyday problems and everyday faces.
I planted a tent where the trees gave way, a beautiful spot where we could lay.
My dog sniffed her best sniffing with great delight and followed a scent with all of her might, she whispered to the squirrel who lived in the tree, come down, please come down, come down and meet me.
My daughter danced her best dance on the stump of a pine tree and the birds watched from a distance these two and me.
A stream tricked by nearly hidden by the trees and fish swam about with no knowledge of me.
I made a little fire circled with stones and we sat in its warmth and told the stories we'd known. The crickets kept watch for the creatures that prowl, silence giving them away into the early wee hours.
When the stories were told and bellies were full we slept under the stars in the arms of the woods.

Friends and Foes

Put not your faith in mans holy endeavors for they are not carried by a power greater than greed.

You are wiser to trust simple rain to bring ones soul relief, as religion serves the powerful far before the powerless, and rain falls indiscriminately to whomever shall hold a bucket.

Wait not simple souls upon the mercy of your brothers, their lands are far and their hearts farther, from the plights of those without.

The Praise of Rain

Rain, you know not the place you hold in the heart of a desert soul.
You are the promise of retreat and renewal, of life and rest.
You are the long awaited savior to desolation's home.
You are the bringer of new beginnings and the force of change.
Come and stay, for none other is more loved.
Come and stay, for none others name is so cherished.
Come and stay Goddess of Rain and bless us with your charity.

It Is What It Is

Long way down, longer way up, so you sit at the edge of your world and wait.
It is hard to be good when your hurting inside, hard to let go of the old ways.
Choices become your history and wear well or heavily on your heart.
We are all alone and we are all lost, some find comfort in it, others distress.
Some become map makers others take the dive, some become climbers , others never try.
But all in the end remember the trip, some with a smile and others with regret.

Somedays life is a quick walk down a short road, other days you count the cracks.

A Beautiful Place

I need to go to a beautiful place that I may remember my name.

Someplace with trees that have seen it all, water that cleans and ripples and falls, and soil that reclaims its bounty.

I need to find balance again, to fill up and to let go, to somehow really know what it is to be at peace in this skin.

When We Fall

I heard a creaking moan beneath my feet, a small running crack made its way across my path. I heard the tear within my heart and my eyes filled with the pain of a thousand years.

Steady as you go, even if its down. Steady as you go its so far down.

I looked for the light house but it was not to be found.

I circled about like a mad dog hoping for enlightenment or a saviors hand.

I resolved to the fact that I was breaking despite all of my best intentions.

There teetering on the edge, I wait for a breeze.

And this is how it feels when we fall.

Death

Death is not brought by the wings of a bird but accompanied in the heart of the departing.

It is conceptions resolution, a caterpillars transformation to a spiritual plane, the same self in new skin, yet again.

How could I deny it or think myself undeserving when so many greater than I have taken its hand. Death would be an honor if walked in your steps, a simple, loving being resigned without regret.

Him

I saw him once in a foggy daydream standing below a nights burning streetlamp.
He faced me, hands in the pockets of his long tailored coat. I knew him somehow but his name escaped me. I felt that if he would only speak his voice would clear my head, I would remember.
He looked like home and I so wanted to return, my eyes locked afraid to look away.
Half of my heart wept for needing him and the other rejoiced having not seen his face to miss.

Balance

Teeter totter toy, children laugh from the fright of falling safely. Its only so much fun when you understand its limitations.
Teeter totter in the dark, have only your seat and imagination. Welcome to life, welcome to the beginning of your search for balance.
To find your equal, to find your polar opposite, one searches a lifetime for their counter balance.
And if you should find it where will you be but stationary, motionless and possibly free.

The Long Walk

I came to see the sea but instead she saw me, she wrapped me up in her icy arms and sang me off to sleep.

Your Mouth

Quiet your voice, make it disappear along with the fear, it is easier to not feel it you know.
Don't ruin your pretty face with need, no one wants to hear you plead and no one wants to listen to your crap.
Who do you think you are, you don't have a friend in the world and you know you are only tolerated.
Scream through your lips but no one will hear you because all that they see is a smile, you die all the while and you probably deserve it with all of your willful ways.
You fall apart inside and keep up the charade. There are others that need your ear and pseudo strength.
Paint your face and hope, hope for someones charity, you are a beggar and a sham, its no wonder no one can stand to hear you mutter a word from your sorry mouth.

At Your Feet ( A song I wrote)

Verse 1

I heard the day creak into night, watched the darkness chase the light.

I saw you sleeping there in your bed, a dream taking shape in your head.

You know I couldn't come to you as I am so I decided to change, as we all can. As we all can.

Mist through your mirror and I'm there, driven by intention.

Witchy bitch...but you know my real name and invited me in, In through your doorway.

You should have smelled me coming and now I'm in your head. You heard me when I whispered,

you knew what I had said, knew what I had said. And now....

Chorus 1

I am the white cat that sleeps at your feet, silver nails and silver teeth, blue eyes shining into

your darkness, I will watch for the bad things that crawl through your conscience. I am all I want to be when I'm here at your feet. I would let you use me, purr when you abuse me. I'm dime a dozen baby, but I'm yours if you want me.

Verse 2

I'm only as crazy as I choose to be, maybe I have to see things a little differently.

Am I a distraction or a hearts love impassioned by the promise of something new and real, something you cant wait to feel, there at your feet?

And from there I try to see myself through your eyes, don't know if I want to see it, don't know if I can be it, and what I see is an illusion because you don't really know me. Baby you don't really know me...yet,

Chorus 2

I am the white cat that sleeps at your feet, silver claws and silver teeth, blue eyes shining in your darkness. I will watch for the bad things that crawl through your conscience. I am all I want to be when I am here at your feet. I would let you use me and purr when you abuse me. I'm dime a dozen baby, but I'm yours when you want me.

Verse 3

I'm not a copy, I'm not your new start, I'm not the next bitch in line to break your fucking heart.

There is nothing left to say, take or leave me here, and here is where I'll stay...tonight.

I cant have half of you although I'm patient all the same, and I cant be the reason you finally go insane. Maybe you have had too many willing to love you and now it doesn't mean a thing, or maybe no one could do it the way that you need.

You know my heart isn't easy although my body may be, but once I decide to love you, its all that I will need. You can keep your gold and your things you let me hold, I'll take your heart because....

Chorus 3

I'm just the white cat that sleeps at your feet, silver nails and little silver teeth, blue eyes shining into your darkness. And I will watch for the demons that crawl through your dreams. I am all I want to be when I'm here at your feet. I would let you use me, smile when you abuse me, I'm dime a dozen baby, but I'm yours if you would keep me.

Verse 4

Its cold here, out in the night, theres nothing left to find, theres no one left to fight. Its just a dream, a hearts wish to be where the sun is. Maybe I will find it if I keep on trying. I know its too much to ask, its too much to give, and I'm a joke that has no punch line, so anti climactic.

But its OK, we are all the same, looking for the impossible on a ride that never ends. And I will be right here, waiting like I do, and you will be where you want to be...where you should. But....

Chorus 4

I am the white cat that sleeps at your feet, silver nails and silver teeth, blue eyes shining into your darkness. I will watch for the bad things that crawl through your conscience.

I am all I want to be when I am here at your feet. I would let you use me, smile when you abuse me, I'm dime a dozen, dime a dozen, dime a dozen, I know.... But I'm yours if you want me.

Adrift

Adrift among the the fish below, moving along ever so slow.

Not a care to the water that floats me along, I wonder if it will miss me when I'm gone.

Am I lost or am I traveling, without a road I have no bearing.

And the stars look down as they have seen it all before, a boat and a passenger and two useless ores.

I sit and I wait, look for a sign, question myself for the hundreth time.

Why must I drift lost in this place, maybe the answers will all come to late.

Lost and confused I make sense of nothing but I hold onto the night and know that day is coming.

If that is all I know at least it is something so I fall in love with the sun that I can count on shining.

Path

I don't know where this path will lead me and yet I keep on walking.
My feet are tired and my mind is lost along the repetitious sign posts, these warnings and puzzles, promises and arrows, I can do nothing but hope I get it right.
I carry a pack with all of my learning, wisdom I once called it, and hope that it will be enough to guide me when the sun gives up to the moon.
How much easier it would be if only I could believe it has all been laid out before me, before I was here, a plan and a purpose, a path that was made only for me.

Storm

A cool soft breeze plays through my hair like a lovers fingers. My back catches a chill as it pushes past me. Forward bending grass gives away its direction and welcomes me to follow, bowing to its friend the wind.
My eyes look easily upon the sky, as dark moving clouds block the sun. It seems the whole world has slowed but I know this scene plays only for me.
My ears grow cold as the earths heat leaves and my cheek receives the gentle cold tapping of the rain. The last call for all of the dry beings is sounded as the thunder announces its play.

Some Place

Some place to stop and rest, a safe place to close the door. Familiar and easy, it all slows.

Rain that wakes the soil, old friends forever they meet again.

A part of the self you now hold in your arms, to know this stranger for the first time.

Gentle eyes that know you quietly smile and welcome you.

This is where you find home.

A temple within and a shelf holding your truths, hand bound, smelling of leather.

There is no pain in this space when there is balance, and you whisper to not break the silence.

This is where you find home.

Trouble all around and yet you find comfort in the thunder, it is a storm you understand and it stays within its bounds.

Trouble all around, uncertain are the waters and yet you find comfort in the waves.

Desolate desert where only the tested survive, here you find your strength. The days are cruel and the nights are cool.

This is where you find home.

You and I

You are the language I speak, the company I keep, the one I come home to, the one I hold on to. Whenever I am afraid or have something to say, you are the one I think of. A million miles we have traveled, up and down roads we have chosen, only hoping for sunshine and a place to stop and rest. Together in good times, and too many bad times, we did it all the same. And now I am alone and I have lost my familiar home, the company I keep, the language I speak, and now I have lost You and I.

In Between

In between you and I are a thousand stories that only we can share, only we were there.
What to hold on to and what to let go, pieces of your self attached to all of it. Mantras for strength, mantras for hope, replace conversations you and I would have spoke.
In between you and I are a thousand questions, so many lessons, and to many tears to count, and a beautiful child with my lips and your nose.
Where to go from here, in between you and I, I do not know.

Operation Duality

Two sides one mind, two hearts, one breeze carrying a call from the other side. We awaken. Eyes wide, mouth dry, heart pumping into skin and bones. You lift, you crawl, you materialize on the other side. Where to go from here, where to go from where you were, who knows. Others see it but you can taste it, some can hear it but you can smell it on the air. We move. The quickening is upon you. The quickening we have created, you know it but not by name. My animal, your animal ,inside knows it, needs it, feeds on it. We move. Shimmers of light, there is a fear of falling, but to where, and who cares. You spin but your body sleeps still and quiet. We move. I see your face, you see mine by the fires shine, don't be afraid, you know what you are. Five percent physical and whats the rest? Black matter baby, go with it. We move.

What You Awaken

A normal day, a normal mind and then his eyes met mine. Quietly he crept into my skin with no knowing intention. An energy normally mild begins to grow and creep, finding him through the city streets. I stared into my mirror drawn to it again and again, I began to suspect I had stepped through to the other side. What is it with this soul that keeps me preoccupied, what is it with this one that draws me, how could I have forgotten I have this way about me. His mind hums with thoughts of me acting like a beacon and yet he is unaware. I could smell him on the air, I could hear him everywhere. I crossed into the other place I can roam in and followed the path into his home. I crept into his dream and whispered softly into his ear, be careful, be careful of what you awaken.

A Dolls Dream

Leave me here to lie, asleep and dreaming. When I wake I will be your doll again made of porcelain, paint and linen.
Leave me here to lie, alive as I am dreaming, trying to find my soul again, trying to find a reason, trying to find my name again in this storm with no ending.
Leave me here to lie, thinking of your face and wishing I could erase the past that chases me. Never wakes the butterfly afraid of angry wind and never wakes the doll afraid her heart will never mend.

Letting Go

We hold so tightly to what we don't really have, grasping and gripping the invisible. I have seen ones who let go, a final breath lifts so easily, time slows, fear retreats, the letting go becomes the only truth, a holy moment, as every moment of that life was and yet only this one is recognized. And in that moment one can see they have nothing that can be held and it is finally ok to truly breathe. I close your eyes and am envious of your new freedom, your quiet body, your quiet mind. I wrap you up and make you look peaceful so the heavy hearts can come and say goodbye. I stand in the background a piece of furniture to lean on, something to grip and claw when the mind is over thrown. And all of their people labels mean nothing when reality comes. Versace tares as easily as your generic t shirt, It means nothing in this place of hurt. And in this space called life we live asleep, only awakening when we weep, the letting go, the realization of empty, holding on so tightly we finally release.

A Moment

May I have a moment of your time, just a small piece of your busy day. Can you tell me everything is the same, the same as it was the last time. May I have a moment of your time that is different than all the rest, can you look at me the way you would if no one else could see. Can you look at me like you wish I wouldn't go, like it would matter if you didn't know me any more. I hold my breath and wait, I wait in line for my time, I wait for an answer in your eyes. And even though I already know, I wait to let you go.

Home

The lights are on, the chimney smokes, there is a soft stone path leading to the door. One looks around this familiar space a question hanging from their face. I am home but I am alone and the pain seems only endless. Where there was light and hope and dreams rests only the footstep of the being, the one that took it from my heart, without permission, without permission stole it from my heart. The lights are on, the chimney weeps, there is a hard stone path beneath my feet.

Fantasy Land "The Skyscraper"

I am living in a skyscraper on nearly the top floor. The entire back wall of my flat looks out over the night lit city, it twinkles into my living room and bedroom. I have light colored flooring and walls, there is a glass oval table that sits in front of a cream leather couch. The kitchen is modest and has the ambiance of an upscale coffee house, comfortable but refined. My bedroom is unusually large and as one looks into it from the doorway it appears to be floating. The side walls are mirrors and reflect the view from the floor to ceiling window looking out. From the right side of the room the floor is raised in a semicircle upon which the bed sets. It creates a step down into the rest of the room. There is an entry way on the back wall a few feet from the bedroom door that leads into a big bathroom. The light earthy tones of the bedroom continue into the bathroom but are accompanied by a warm stone floor. The stone floor continues into a stone wall shower with brass shower heads and a glass door. The sink has a water fall style faucet and there are fresh white flowers in a crystal vase sitting on the vanity.
I am thinking about my day at work. I have been working as a criminal profiler for the past 9 years. I was the youngest in the country but am also among the top two.
I change out of my work suite and into an incredible champaign color evening gown. It shimmers like the city lights, cut low in the front and back. I put on my Italian leather stilettos and a diamond lariat necklace. I have a date with a fellow profiler I worked a case with. When I think about him I smile and as I pick up my glass of wine the door bell rings.

I have often wondered how many acts of insane violence may have been thwarted by a perfect parking space.