Come with me into the expansive gift of poetry to experience a disruption of habitual ways of thinking and perceiving. The magic of poetry happens when it is spoken, heard and felt as vibrations in your body.
Will you consider joining me
around each full moon in 2021
in the sacred cave at Bodega Bay,
to dream and sing and listen and celebrate
with the seals and the fish and the ravens
and the waves and the rocks and the sand fleas?
Visit the Ecos de la Marea page for details.
What if......our immune systems are not systems of war designed to protect, fight and defend but instead beautiful systems for integrating, one-ing, making love with all of nature?
What if......Mother Nature is silently, patiently waiting to hold you, to nurture you?
Your anger is holy.
Your grief is pure.
Step quietly out of your shadow
like a panther
who leaves no tracks.
Let your fierceness fertilize the void.
Fling generous curses
into musky voluptuous furrows
so that fiery petals
of inexpressible bliss
spring up for no reason
in the forest of your nerves.
Be what happens in tombs
and bridal chambers,
among lovers and mushrooms.
Let your bruises ripen into juice.
Keep rooting down
until you touch your vacuous core.
Precious the dung.
Sacred the manure flower.
This is the only way up
to the Rose.
This post is dedicated to the beautiful artist,
Sandy Eastoak, who passed away last month.