The stream (all workshops)
Sensing the ancestral will of this sacred land,
Feeling the embodiment of its truest natures,
Comprehending subtle energies in our hands,
And the eternal health that may manifest later.
In the druidic nature of energy enlightenments,
And the natural essences in their spiritual forms,
Compassion is the unifying gift from divinity sent,
Healing damage where our deep hearts are torn.
And here I am
Cold in the middle of summer
Bleeding through intact skin
For once again,
The light has gone out of my life
I take a deep breath and I hold it
The days continue to come and go
More and more clouds continue to come
Drifting from the south
Where waves crash upon the rocks
I gently release that breath
There's no reason to hold on
To anything in particular
I saw
He thought
But after all, we were just a little to late.
Hot
Sweating
Hard to breathe
Keeping me up
Tossing and turning
Keeping my mind awake
Thinking about my life’s goal
What is it that I should review
What actions will I choose to explore
Before the heat takes me back to my dreams
When my demons awoke,
they were very compelling when they spoke,
they weren't acting with stereotypical evil,
they felt rejected and feeble,
but in some ways they made me stronger,
they took their revenge in the form of ponder.
This made their demands seem meek,
manifested versions of me I perceive to be weak,
they had a different kind of power,
I cast them aside when life turned me sour.
Draw upon your memories,
Let them dance within your mind.
For you are the guardian of these treasures,
Your loved one has left behind
In a time of trauma,
When peace wear wrinkles, piqued,
From elegance to blackwash,
Arms circled in anonymy,
Grazed upon heavy bodies,
The floor weeps to the ground,
And the ground wails to the sky.
Ho! A tale is telling itself,
That a sumptuous meal is served,
On the far end of the raging ocean.
It's the Genesis of Exodus,
The Exodus from woes and Lamentations.
Gazing upon many revelations,
A race is on, unflagging stampede.
The other side of the mirror
takes you to your desire,
where you wish to be you are.
There is brick, trees and cloudless blue sky
stretched, blurred and distorted
atop seemingly still water moving
to the fall, away from the distant reflection.
You walk by Vandenberg’s Pavilion
Where the river's shallow
is like glass – clear to bottom.
But stretching from that far side
is the rich sound of train rumble,
you cannot see it,
but yes, the trucks – unheard.
His duality baffles me
He shows us his submissiveness, the tender side
yet when the time comes, he puts on his shining armor
rages into battle, challenging those we never would have tried
then coming home with the produce, like a cheery farmer
His character exasperates me
His werewolf self takes the silver arrow
All while helping others who got pricked by life
Show some weakness, we know it exists however narrow!
Be human for once, just stop the godly jive.
His charm enrages me
Granny was a widow, Gramps died in 45,
So off she went to the USA, a greyhound she did ride,
Through wide open spaces she'd never seen the like
Till at last she came to Cali' and there she parked her bike.
She cleaned and scrubbed in a hospital ward,
Cedars of Lebanon was its name
There she met many film stars
She'd only seen on the silver screen.
She loved the states, made many friends
Went back and forth o'er the years.
When home she had a little flat
But her heart was there 'twas clear.
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