Skip to main content

A Motherswell of Love Dance

-- to our progeny

It seems a plausible imperative,
(she tells us) 
trust yourself  -  ride the intuition.

It will wake you at 3 am, mercurial
as an infant still in womb time.

Unannounced - it can take your breath
like the Tower card from Waite Ryder,

all those flames and falling bodies.

Trust yourself to just exhale.
See, winter passes,

(she’s rolling now)

it's 85 outside - we're between jet streams.
Trust yourself – just be naked sometimes –
turn up in a favorite dream.
lead with your belly, walk with Ursula
rising from nap time. She's ravenous, grumpy.
(so are we)
When we lumber into the stars of summer,
we'll suck on bones of worry -a marrow that kicks like sin.
(she pauses)

Trust yourself - it's in the water,
this love dance of fractals, this swirling Troposphere
weeping mercy onto deserts of Somalia and Djibouti.

Its gift is fresh gumption -
lifts wings and floods flight paths with all the usual suspects -
poets and children, red knots and butterflies.

And oh! The horseshoe crabs -
such ceremony in a May arrival,
their motherhood, blind treasure of foam born
in neap tides washing up in an endless line.

Just like that 
(snaps her fingers)

trust yourself to be in step with our critical mass.
You - pebble launching a thousand avalanches,
                                   a thousand miracles.


Now ride Sally ride! 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Temerity

Helen holds hands with thunderheads. It helps when she's weak in the knees, lightning running down abductors, running down bones. Even temple guards succumb to such days, soft as pillows - scarlet velveteen on silk sheets.  Pink cyclamen bells the air, and Helen cut her traces. Bridget dreams the summer wind.  Its susurrate moan rises in waves, swells with tides of sandalwood to chariot the night.  She spins rhapsody around its howl,  dawns a golden jet stream  on spangled festoons of cirrus. Weak knees fly off with yellow wind,  before Bridget stills the night.   Sicily wets her lips with limoncello, quells the rabble of heartache, the clatter of waiting.  She rings goblets like temple bells, makes a sound map for lost days. Her boat of pink sand brims in blood oranges and cyclamen. Lightning festoons the rabble, Sicily finds Helen’s hand.

Covid19 Journey Day 27

April 17, 2020 Today’s celebration – Last May I attended the annual school fundraising gala.   Browsing the items on the silent auction tables, I found nothing that that stirred my avarice, so I took another tack and decided to find things that I could have fun with or devise pleasure from, as a way to justify some necessary opening bids.   There was an impressive box of chocolate bars with a couple bottles of red on which I entered the first bid, and I paused at a wooden crate with another pair of wines, nice glasses and a gift certificate for a charcuterie tray.   The vintner of the Pinot Noir and Chardonnay was Kosta Browne. Without a thought of the initial bid being the winning bid, I scratched my offer on line #1 - $150. I did covet a set of hand thrown mugs from our headmaster’s wheel, but found my bid lost in the healthy bid escalations.   By the end of the evening though, I was the winner of the box of wine and chocolate and the two bottles of Kosta Browne.   Once at home

Covid19 Journal Entry 16

April 6, 2020 Today’s image – I was thinking about a news story from a couple weeks back. Las Vegas municipal services decided to manage their homeless population’s infection risk by moving these unfortunates to a parking lot that was taped off into spaces six feet apart.   Out in the open elements these displaced people were parked, while the hotels in the casinos stood empty.   Today, I listened to local news while sewing masks after school.   They interviewed the director of a local homeless relief organization that provided shelter to hundreds in our area.   The director mentioned that more often than not, these people live in such crisis already that they miss the big news stories or just decide to tune them out because they don’t want to stack more crisis on top of their own unsolvables.   She said they were managing the mandates of the outbreak dangers with federal funds that were matched by community funds to put up their homeless clients into hotels in the area for the d