We are drops of water in this great river of love
Like cogs in the wheel we shoulder the burden
Force the millwheel to turn
Sometimes we drop our load
I helped you pick yours up
You carried on without a backward glance
I raised my fist in anger
I plotted
I cursed
How to hurt you?
How to avenge my pain?
But my pain was only fear
Fear that you denied my love
As I tried to cut those ties love sought to bind us
My higher self made these choices a long time ago

Together we created beauty
I led and you followed me
into the garden
I turned and handed you the torch
You took it up
I followed you in the dance
Together we prepared the garden
Tilled the soil
Pulled out the weeds Then we planted our roots
Ensured that our rootkins were firmly grounded
We watched as they began to grow
Stood side by side as they blossomed
My roots go deep in this garden
I am the red Monarda
growing tall and strong
Crimson petals waft in the breeze
Each year roots more firmly embedded in the earth
You are the lobelia
Beautiful deep blue face
with a hint of sunlight at the center
Lying close to the ground for protection
Uprooted at the end of the season
Removed from the strong winter
winds and cold snow
The seeds hold the promise of spring
I honour your spirit and lift you up even higher
You would not do well in rectangular window boxes
Walled in by 2 x 4′s you would become rootbound and listless
You need fresh soil each year
A new outlook
Inspiration for your creative spirit
Freedom

We´ve shared much in this garden
But will you uproot yourself again?
Hesitantly I pick up the phone
Anxious for contact
Afraid to crowd your deep blue flowers
My slender leaves tremble in the wind
I stand back so as not to suck away your energy
Harm your shallow roots
My heart filled with ecstasy
Our rootkins blossomed
They filled our garden with colour
The simple but matter-of-fact tulip
The tall, strong gold and white of the daisy
The deep purple calla lily that stands so proudly
The scented purple of the lavender bush
The orange and yellow of the primrose
The sights and smells and sounds
our garden overwhelmed me
And you, my friend
You changed faces every few minutes
Sometimes you are the tiger lily
Glowing golden face
Freckles beaming in the sun
Then you are the raven
the blue-black iris
Strong, alone and proud
Throwing me small offerings of love

I wondered if I was drowning
Stopped myself begging again for small moments
I built up a wall: MEN!
It saved me from plummeting into the abyss
A hole I’d fallen into before
Just friends, but no friendship time
Discouraged and pale I fought my disease
The days were long
The nights were longer

I remained rooted and bound in strength
We grew strong as the love was shared
But you held back your heart
I sought courage
Then we found time for friendship I could just be the me that I am
Not the roles I usually play
You too left your other faces behind
The sunshine of our friendship soothes my weary soul
Our combined energy has opened up my fearful buds

For a moment we danced in the wind in bliss
I stand tall and poised in this garden
Your gift of courage has not been wasted
My proud red face stretched towards the light
Absorbing life-giving rays
The hummingbirds visit me
They move from flower to flower
In erratic frenzy sucking up life-giving energy
Buzzing fiercely to remain aloft
Gently sipping the nectar
Casually tossing me morning pleasantries
Sharing the garden with the bees
You cannot fulfil my needs or desires
I am content to share a piece of this garden
Laughter, energy, backrubs and soul-to-soul hugs
We shall snatch moments
Even as the clouds gather
The rain washes over me

One way blogging has changed my life is in its influence on how I must understand my values. To clarify my position on politics, the environment, and other issues, I might put these notions into language.

Studies in autobiography and therapy demonstrate that blogging is good for your psyche. I read an interesting post the other day. It was not truly a study as it fails to reflect scientific validity and reliability measures. However, reflection is good for the soul.

Blogging makes the long, dark, cold winters easier to take. I can share the beauty of the winter, and better appreciate what is going on around me.

Blogging helps me to improve my writing practice, essential for a writer to ‘practice’, and put thoughts into words, finding just the right nuance of phrase, or particular word.

Blogging keep my brain in gear. I have spent the last two years writing and researching a book, and now find there is a bit of a void. I don’t want to lose those skills.

I hope blogging is not a memetic behaviour, since many are only using blogging to fill in their own agenda: for profit. I resent those who advocate for affiliate marketing, as I do not want to be influenced by those only in this for profit.

I am tired of looking at web pages created by big corporations, like Oprah, or tax-funded ones, like CBC.ca, who must ravage my eyes and force spam upon me. Surely Oprah has enough money that she need not advertise on her pages?

I have decided to add my poetry to my blogging portfolio. This will be the purpose of this blog.

Sparkle and shine
Precious new friend
A diamond amongst men of lesser quality
Warm heart visible from without
Your many facets reflect a man of sharp wit
Actions define an inner strength and wisdom
An old soul set in a young stone
Your inspiration demands courage and hope
Those whose lives you’ve touched
Stand with palms facing you
Seeking the energy from your inner being
Smiling back in love
Seeking that which emanates from your soul

They are young and old
Rich and poor
You minister even to those
a few gems short of a full setting

Wish that the diamond smith had cut more
fine gems of like quality
Worries and fears dissipate in the music of your laughter
You are priceless beyond measure
God smiled once when you were born
Twice when she sent you to cross my path
I laud your spirit and embrace you in joy

/ 94

Through love and joy and gladness
Through tears and fears and pain
There´s glory in the madness
As vision clears again

The candles brightly glowing
We´re dancing towards the light
Pathways they are showing
Walk proudly through the night

Herald chimes are sounding
The wind blows on my face
We mortals firmly grounding
In this our rightful place

Our task on earth is holy
The work we do is blessed
Our higher selves nod slowly
These lives they are a test

May 93

A storm is brewing
smell the electricity in the air
hairs on my arm stand on end
the energy of the universe crackles like lightning
it echoes with the thunder
the great white light of eternity flash in the sky
the mighty power visible to us but for a moment
rain washes over me
cleansing and purifying

the spirit of the universe flows within like a mighty river
look inside
you will see it
stop and listen
you will hear it
the God-force surges through us.
the Divine purpose connects us all.

these frail bodies are channels
stand alone on the banks of the mighty river
higher selves watch
the water passes
a powerful current leading into the ocean
in the ebb and flow of time each drop collects
each tributary is important to the whole
At our journey´s end we shall meet
In Peace and Light and Love

I stumble and fall
reach out
angels hover nearby
ready to catch us
Love guides them
The Spirit moves them.

Angels are not difficult to recognize
You will know them by their works
Building bridges
Throwing out safety lines
Angels watch for survivors
They redeem our drowning souls

Our Angels have pewter chalices
lovingly collecting our tears
Anointing us
They refill us with the Lifeforce
They guide us in our purpose

we strive to bring the unmanifest reality
to this incarnation.
the force flows within
strong and true
the divine purpose connects us all
I laud you on your journey
I know
if you listen
your guides will help you see your way

June 1/93

The night envelopes me with dark wings
For eons now I have seen my possibilities
dropping like decaying fruit from my tree of life
One by one they plummet
bound by the gravitational pull of this fourth dimension
becoming impossibilities, crumbling over time.

Yet, as I open my eyes,
I perceive fireflies flickering amongst the leaves
There is a shadow,
An elfin creature waves a wand of magic
His eyes twinkling in the dark
as he sprinkles pixie dust
in this my dreary night.
The flickering spheres have risen

from the ashes of despair
transformed from impossibilities into probabilities.
They arise, like the Phoenix,
Glowing with energy
precariously positioned in the branches.

Once,Was it only yesterday?,
I let my heart rule my head
But my vision has cleared.
I see the dawn peering hesitantly over the horizon.
The winds of change have risen with the sun

They embrace me, comfort me
Then they rustle the leaves
to add harmony to the rising octave
sending me to the higher sphere.

The chains I chose have loosened
and set me free
with the knowledge that we are
free to choose;
a prison or a palace,

a serfdom or a queendom,
despair or glorious works,
anger or peaceful promise,
my douleur vanishes with the dawn

His golden fingers caress me
as I shed my mourning clothes
My higher self rises to sing
and dance with the angels.

My tree is now laden with fruit
The possibilities ripen on the branches
just waiting to be plucked
The sun rises in penumbral fashion
The fireflies rest and wait for the night.

April 29/93

this path was chosen long ago
illumined by the Light
the impish pixies giggle in fear
they rustle the leaves of the bushes
their mirth and ignorance colouring the forest
the energy of the Universe surrounds them
they cannot see it

our Higher Selves are hidden from them
they can only perceive our three-dimensional forms
our true selves are safely out of reach
hands that would grab and tear away that which is Truth

together we walk along this path
you wear a multi-coloured cloak of nobility
it protects you from their talons
red for courage-shoulders held resolute
orange for faith as the story unfolds as it should
yellow for your aura of dignity
green for hope and the promise of tomorrow
blue for the peace emanating from your heart
indigo for your gentle strength
Finally,
the great white colour of love
gives the cloak its power
thread woven throughout
the great light that is at the core of our being
because above all you wear your cloak in love

other men and women play a game
we know better
we dance a dance of love
meeting in the meadow
face to face with joy
we move and glide
turning in joy
a dance forgotten yet familiar
the dance unending

the music surrounds us
our energy merges in the power of love
after we may bow and part
but this love will be spread
the joy will be shared

Walk in Peace
Dance in Joy
Hold your cloak fast to your body
for we have met before and we shall meet again

Sept. 19/93