The wonders and teachings of Mother Earth flow constantly to us.

After the Hundredth Monkey

Our BEING Earth, breathing Her,
Brings our healing, Her healing;
Earth's wondrous song opens us
to Her divine inspiration
So that more and more Her energy forms our will;
As we live aware of Life's gift to soul
We cannot but live for Her health, Her mysterious
creations, and for protecting Her;
As we are touched by Her magnificence
With devotion we give our all.
(for Earth Day, 2023)

HER SONG

My heart breaks at trials
    too big to handle
In the lap of the Divine One
is where I sit weeping.

She, the Fountain of Compassion
    rests her chin upon my head
Her song manifests rushing streams
    winding down green mountains
Her soft sweet song brings forth
    trees quivering in the breeze
    then deer, small creatures
    insects, butterflies--
    birds join the singing
        All fill Earth with Life

Held in this Miracle I begin to breathe
This Seat of Life sings into me
    all that I need for being:
All encompassing comfort, She is
the ever-accessible Healing.


SOMETHING IS BREAKING

The wealthy leader is deprived
    and cannot smile
They cannot smile, the dying poor
    Across this globe's belly
Broken chain links sprawl out
    over parched Earth
My tongue despises the taste of food
    Now that the truth be told
    it finds its only function is
    To let out my scream

Something is breaking
With a roar that could deafen us
Something we have betrayed
With a lie

Who has vision anymore
To love?
How do we find love-meaning
In face of extinction
Of all love has worked?
(1974)


 BIRTHOF LIGHT

Each heart a living prayer
Breathed into being spiraling out
From Divine Mystery

How sweet as all these prayer-lights
Dance together in glittering
Choreography: a flock of seabirds
Dancing one intention!

Singing their soul-reaching song
For which we have all been longing
For which we have all been longing.


TURN

Winter invisibly changes things
Seeds under snow
That wait to grow
    mutate into hidden shoots

Love on the winds of season's turn
Transforms by cues to doubt

Autumn's bright treasures
    turn into poems
    written full of hope
Torn up with newspaper pages
To stack the winter fire

Passion burnt up
What was written 
Catches flame
Warms the room.


IN FOG

A foggy January night
We walked down the hill
Off to the side in dim light
In the snow there they were

Mellow cows 
Wrapped in a soft glow
Of the distant house light

Then despite the fog
We knew where we were

And I smiled but nobody saw,
Nobody saw I was held
Enraptured in that meadow.


NAVIGATING ALONE

Navigating alone, crazily
I, a sole fisher-person
On a sea with neither stars
Nor compass,

Life is now too big
In the night I long to hold you
With sublime tenderness
From that place which is
The fountain of compassion,

Navigating alone I carve
Each new moon that's come
On a branch behind which
I discern your being,
An unreachable beacon.


GHOSTS WALK IN

Ghosts walk in
The more years I gather
The more ghosts hang out
In the back room and wait
To walk in here

Faces in familiar places
Pleading, accusing,
Asking impossible questions

And so this being is not just I
But a melding of many
Each within our interconnecting
Circles--all these circles
Within bigger circles

C'mon ghosts,
Let us dance under the stars
And let our laughter
Our tears, write new constellations
In the swirling dome of sky

May those stars bejewel
The nets of our circles,
Shimmering always, all ways.


JAQUELINE

At fourteen married off
To and older man
Who mistreated you

Pregnant soon after
In that little West Texas town

A big show came through
You saw the ad: one hundred dollars
To the volunteer who will be
The first woman
To parachute our of a plane

You didn't tell your mother
Got into that plane
Hiding any nervousness
Before all those spectators
Jumped out with that parachute
Made it safely to dusty ground
Took the hundred dollars
Divorced, raised your son
Got a job in New Orleans

You had no idea then
Your great great great grand-
father had been the renowned 
Poet/visionary of his age.


OMNIPOESIE

I love the tongue of these lands
That speaks so well of their spirit:
  Bella Coola, Klickitat
  Mukiltio, Shushwap
  Kamiah, Wenatchee, Kittitas, Tum-Tum
  Ohanapecosh, Tahola
  Chinook, Wapato
  Moclips, Osoyoos, Umtanum

Names that bounce up from
  Earth Herself
And leave bubbles dancing 'round my heart
  Nakusp, Okanagan
  Bella Bella, Dosewallips
  Kitsap, Wallowa
  Tatoosh, Walla Walla
  Chelan, Hamma Hamma

When I die, O Spirit, let me go beyond
With such magic ringing in my being
  Kleena Kleen, Kootenay
  Tillamook, Skeena
  Humptulips, Yakama
  Kokanee, Quallicum
My very bones must beat time
Against rocks along rivers from which
These sounds have sprung
  Again  again
  and again.  


BEFORE BEING

Before being
Is Light, is Love
Love blooms delicately into Breath
Breath's rhythms give birth to sound
Sound's vibrations coalesce matter

Matter infused with Love, with
thunderous impulse creates Life
Life, seeking its Source
Becomes Love.


  
 Kootenay River, forest fire smog, BC (from kayak)


THE BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE

The book of knowledge
Did not tell me even where
To look to find it;
I read it all up and down,
Its snug pages complete
With photographs
Diagrams
Tables
Definitions
Explanations

I still did not know what was
At the root of things
Or what made them grow,
Or how to tell my greatest thought,
Or how to smile a smile big enough
For what I feel...
How to offer a love that's real;

These I did not find
In the Book of Knowledge.


KILL ONESELF INTO LOVE

Nausea warns the species has pushed
To the edge
The possibilities of violence

Deep inside each heart
Is a place where Love
Is more powerful than any
Command to kill

Where recognizing
"I as Thou, Thou as I"
Can lead to embrace

In each of the pools of blood
Mounting in numbers daily
Lies a seed of compassion

Blood of the womb
Sacred Life blood
Kiss of Healing

In each blood curdling scream
Of sudden irredeemable loss
Resides the seed of heart-stirring
Recognition

Reconciliation, compassion,
the seed of the song of Ahimsa
That knows itself as no result
Of destruction or killing
But as the crushing of the 
Shell around the heart

Toward all joining in one voice
Singing our unified vision
Of a world on which it be safe
To live; for that is our only choice.


MEDICINE WATERS

Now I have laid bare,
Taken your medicine
In the white foam 
Of your thundering river
Now I have become you
Now I have been blessed
Now replenished I go

Into the unknown
On my way home
On my way home.


IN THE BELLY OF THE WHALE

All at once comes darkness
The world turns over
A roaring noise begins furiously
Gaia shakes and opens
As seas rise to a crescendo
Gathered all together then crash down
Like a battering ram smashing everything
Everyone, until all is obliterated--
Sky, land, cities, forests, peoples,
Plants, animals...
There is darkness
Terrifying noise
Deadly smoke
And ice cold

It is as if in that flood we are all swallowed up
In the whale's belly where we
Replay this devastation over and over
For nearly twelve thousand years
As envy, greed, fear and hatred
Feed our species' hunger
Hunger for the Golden Age
We know not how to recapture

In our longing to re-member
Re-member
Who we are.


  
   Kayaking, Kootenay River


HER BREATH

She with her Breath, Her bellowing winds
Her penetrating eye, Her thundering clouds
Mighty moving oceans

She who began this life miracle
Bringing forth all Gaia's realms and wonders
And changing mysterious forces

Accomplishes all--before being
And shall long after; Bountiful Mother
Who holds all secrets, all manifestation

Pours them out from Her breasts
Like the milk and honey of our desires,
Allows that we are led into this wonder.


SANDS

Fragments of myself are
Forever dancing before your image:
Doing Tai Chi on the cold sand
Before the roaring ocean,

Ocean of my heart that flowed
With primal blood
Stilled to silence
Upon the flat expanse
Of shining gray beach;
Fragments of myself forever dance
Beside your tears--

The sun that never stops setting
Rests like a promise upon the sea
Like the jewel you are to me.


IN THE REAL

In the Real there is no judgment
Neither bad nor good exists
Forgiveness has no limitations
So visitor, do not hesitate
The tavern door is ever open
You need not guard yourself
All will give welcome
All who enter belong.


MY HEART

My heart seems trapped, so long
I wait for the loon's piercing call
To transport my being
Far beyond knowing
Beyond all imagining
To the stillness of hidden Truth
Where the soul dives 
Smoothly Home.


  
  Bird on birch, West Kootenays


BORN FROM FEAR

Hatred is born from fear;
The true 'enemy' is the cover
Over one's own heart,
which cannot show its  innate radiance
until that shield falls away;
How can a hidden heart recognize beauty? 
Just a soft breath of intention
can pry the shield away 
letting a whoosh of love pour out.


KALI

Now that hope is gone
I walk without its crutch
Kali takes my hand
She has stripped me of my sense
Of completeness

I see my naked image in the mirror
See the frailties
Which I must admit--
I look straight into Her eyes
Knowing she is the only completeness

I ask Her where you are
She answers I already know:
The heart of which you and I
Already are lovely fragments;

I touch my heart and ask
Where now is that sacred bond?
She answers: 
You are touching it.


TURNING EVENING
January 21st, 2017

After wandering around on
The neck of my guitar tuned in D
Making music of the heart
Of the Global Women's March
There is no color in the west
As a mournful sun sets;

Yet above, hundreds of huge cotton-like
Ribs display faint pink among
The grey, white and light charcoal
Swaths of cloud over the river
Adorned with nearly imperceptible
Rainbows--as the world must now
Be adorned with us, its
Rainbow warriors, ever onward.


HIGH SIERRA--SEMANA SANTA, 1967

Stark white cafe breaks azul night
Silent footprints imprint Spanish sands
Between the old truck and counter stool

Music softly echoes inside me
Chords connect cool night spaces
With precious things far distant

Even across vast spaces of my life
It all reaches one center

We cross a river, huts glow
In moonlight across flat reaches,

All in this night sing
That same heart-song I heard
Before Spain came to me.


BESTOW BLESSINGS

When our hearts bestow blessings
On anyone
    no matter how ruthless 
    or contemptible their deeds

Then we know at least
How to find the light
In which to bathe ourselves.


SHADOW

In the garden we share
A freshly picked carrot
Me taking a bite, then you
Then me, then you

A friend seeing us
Thinks we must be lovers

All these dreamy seasons
With an image of your face
Etched deep in my too-willing heart

You a shadow surrounded by snow
Framed by fir trees
In that green woolen coat

I took years to untie 
Those self-made bonds
Now I live free
Except from these words.


OCTOBER MOON

Gilden moonlight
Edges clouds
Touches the river
One lone cricket is singing.


I LISTENED

I watched as Gaia was taking
Her few last feeble breaths

There were no birds soaring
No frogs singing
No flowers
No water to drink

I listened to children
Whose voices were like
A murmuring stream

I listened as those voice faded away
The last remnants of millions of years
Of our having been

Then...
A boundless empty silence
Spilled tears.


SPARKLING ON WATER

We can't put a lid on these:
Whistling eagles
Sunset over Kagan Bay
Mother moose calling her calves
Dancing Northern Lights
Sun sparkling on water
Pinch of barnacles beneath our feet
Evening's glow on red sandstone
Stark lingering cry of the loon
Chill lake bath at morning

Your smile
My joy

Making love on salt-wet rocks
Texture of a feather
Tinkling of a horse's bell
Brightness of August
Taste of fresh-picked huckleberries

The peace of love
Breath of harmony
Delicate heart-web of family.


 
 Trumpeter swans from ski trail, Slocan Valley, BC


A WORD

Queer,
A word to connote fear
A word to foster distain,
Separation

That word we wear
As a cherished necklace;
It helps us fall into our place
Bringing art, dance, laughter,
    community
Allowing all into our brilliant
    rainbow

We can shorten the word 
    to Q
It can be a wink, a smile,
A nod of the head, an "mmm..."
We accept this beacon
    to light our way

Queer rhymes with dear
    and near:
As is this blossoming family.


I AM THE FOREST SINGING

My feet tread a carpet of moss amid
varied shades of green pulling my eyes
from lichen to fern, to towering tree tops

My body inhales healing aromas from
spruce, cedar, trillium, fungi, dead wood
The Forest's vibrations encircle me, a captive
of their medicine; I am the Forest holding me

My arms wrap around the solid fir
She soothes me as a mother with her child,
I am in rhythm with a drumbeat
felt, not heard

Gentle breezes glide through branches,
I sit on a rock that holds stories of centuries
I am the book absorbing their stories

Thrushes sing on--pouring Life's beauty
into my heart; Raven's wings thump as kaw-kaw
booms out. I inhale the Forest, exhale imitation
of Raven's call, feeling my belonging

My eyes follow a shiny beetle, a circling bee,
I am the Forest singing this richness of creation,
asserting the vibrancy of Life-Death,
its ancient wisdom and medicine

I am the owl hooting, the pine cone dropping
I am the deer grazing, the squirrel running
up fir bark, as sunbeams slant 
between limbs making shifting patterns

Gently held, my heart expands
Alive within miracles and mystery--

I am the Forest singing.
(11/2023)


BY GRACE

Under fog-clouds of November
I walk to the store for a Covid shot
Two women come toward where I sit--
One pushes her infant's carriage,
The women are absorbed by 
Shelves of cosmetics, their busy
Voices humming on;

As my mind meanders my eyes settle
On the babe bundled neatly 
In her rustic brown jacket and hood
Our eyes find each other's
She smiles, lips together, in a steady gaze
I smile--such a wonder!
From time to time we drift into
These friendly, trusting smiles
That tie us together; a couple times
Her smiling mouth opens 
We have delight in this communion,
The two women do not look toward us
Even once; it is just
The little one and I sharing a blessing--
My heart expanding.


FROM A WALK

All life really is
    just a playing out
    of Creation's limitless
    imagination

We are the ones imagining,
    the image,
    the imagined,

Any small act could be
    supremely crucial
    though it seem insignificant.


I GLANCE

I glance at him as he builds--
His head bent over the potter's wheel--
To see whether he has found the tea

A cozy warm fire here
From the road only endless fog
Our cabin lights are not discerned
Rain plays lightly on the roof

His hood up, whistling to himself
The man I care for
Follows me, takes his tea
As in communion

I turn to my music and poetry
He in this humble life with me.


LET US BE OPEN

Let us be open to the Ancestors
And to the animal and plant spirits
To the Earth spirits and water spirits

The Ancestors wait for us to hear them
To feel their hearts, now;

Let us be open to the Ancestors
For they do not want their wisdom kept
Secret, but let it seep into our hearts,

Make a space, a time, let our breath
Become their breath, our caring their caring,
Their guidance become our lives'
United purpose;
They have walked here so long;

And are still here--
Listen to the message in the wind-song,
Seek out the gift of the
Deepest wish in our being

Follow the Ancestors' path;
Let us be open
Let us be open.


  
  Kayaking, Kootenay River


AUGUST MOON

Staring change square in the face
I walk along the river:
My solace this night
Still water
Crickets
A golden moon

This separation
A multidimensional
Amputation

Lying with you, we become
Mossy woods--totally alive
Greens of various tints
Telepathic beings all singing
The same music

My breath struggles
My gut wrenches
Pain of tearing apart
Rushes through me
I hide my tears

Your laughter rings in my heart
Your eyes are what I see
Everywhere

I am here with recollections of
A ragged old van, a canoe
The mountain of splendor
Your brightness
The feel of your hands in my hair.


HORNS OF COVID

Sometimes I long to blow into 
A mouthpiece of a horn:
My old french horn (how I miss her)
Or my long-gone trombone

I make a paper mache pretend
Digeridoo, a small cardboard tube
For a bugle
They'll have to do

Yet brass is so fine in the hands
Its vibrations welcomely piercing
Crying out pure pathos of grief
Of longing
Of the whole world in this time.


THE CORD

At the tip of pain
Not when pain ends
But where one reaches its most
Penetrating terror

Is the cord
The cord which binds us
To the Mother

In the cold unrelenting
Truth of certain loss
I run crazed through the cedars
Crying
Crying to the Mother
While sun sifts through
The Emily Carr trees
Bending to my need

Courage: waiting
For the cord to appear
So I may hang on
To something.


SINKING

There is an elegant ballroom 
On the huge sinking ship
Where folks party all night, aware of
The hole taking water in below
Forgetting it as they drink and dance
While the ship slowly rides lower;

There is a card room on the ship
Where passengers pray in song--
With mournful voices creating the 
Saddest harmonies bringing tears
To all who hear;

Out on deck doomed believers
Pace in crazed circles
Asking for forgiveness, imploring
Some imagined deity to notice
Their plight--plug the hole!

While on another deck those delusional
With hope lower down the lifeboats
As if floating on a desolate ocean
Under a toxic dying sky
Might be preferable
To drowning with others.

Note: Drowning With Others is a book of poetry
by my late poetry teacher, James Dickey.


  
  Kootenay River (from kayak)


LOVE HAS NO BODY

I have learned that love has no body,
That rain is a caress, that pebbles
  embrace one another;

I have learned that inside pain
  is a pearl of wisdom waiting for
  the shell which hides it to be opened,

That reality is not subject to intellect,
That music is the True Language;

My heart yearns for more lessons.


A FAKE IDEA

In the great brainwashing
We are led to value ownership:
A fake idea

We brand, we stake out
Set up bank accounts
Purchase what takes our fancy
Lock our doors

We think this is ours, that is ours--
Land, cars, homes, food,
Life, status, a job, children

All a fake idea
If there be any ownership, then
We belong to the forces of Nature,
The Creation which formed us

And gave us freedom
To think and to act,
Even to create and accept
A fake idea.


WINTER SOLSTICE

Gaia tips this hemisphere
Away from Sol--toward the dark
Mystery--billions of stars

Rhythmic waves of good tidings
Belt 'round Earth--unconscious
Memories of ancient Saturn's time
Their vibrations smear away
Hungry wide-eyes of war staring
Through fog at our merrymaking;

Raven cackles atop a snow-laced pine
Raven unseen heard from its tower in fog
  Over the white expanse
  Over the still, silent gate of winter
  In one movement
Black wings let go--Raven rises
  Barking out a screech

Raven voice, a life, for the gods only,
Mocks fragile human efforts;
With a mark clearer, truer
Than these flimsy footsteps of mine
In the snow, erased by snow.


  
 Skiing, West Kootenays


REVOLVING

One by one stars come
Onto night's empty stage
Displaying their silent constancy;

Through all the wounds, 
Rough tumbles that bruise
They are my steadfast companions,
To them I reveal my battle sores

Through each struggle
At each milestone
They have guarded over me,
Listened to my tales

I ask them questions of eons past
They speak to me
Of lost ages, magnificent secrets
Powerful and terrible things
So that I translate their silences
Into sagas rich with agony and triumph

They slowly circle
Speaking the greatest poem I've ever heard
Gently lulling me to sleep
My soul at rest
Inside the palm of night,
Their revolving wheel
Names each of those deities
Ever to cradle us on this Earth.

Note: a few of these poems have appeared elsewhere (on this blog and on the Ziraat pages at ruhaniat.org); some have been changed slightly. 
All photos by the author.