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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.
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 Coatlaxopeuh: She who comes flying from the region of light like an eagle on fire a.k.a. Lady G a.k.a. You!
 Telling Stories to the Trees by Rima Staines
 Chalk by Kirsten DeBoer. Used with permission. Things don't happen for a reason Sweet child No Life doesn't need a reason For happening It simply blooms forth With breathtaking chaos Rains down on you With senseless beauty And immeasurable heartache You can make up stories If you like About why things happen The way that they happened You can close one eye and squint To make up patterns You can tell stories of Tragedy Or perfection Curses Or blessings Or you can simply stand naked in The rain You can realize nothing Will ever really make sense Not if you're really honest Not if you're truly listening Nothing happens for a reason Yes, this is the truth This is it There is nothing else But your own heart Plunging Into reality Your own heart Drinking down The eruption of stars That is this radical emergence Of soul in body Of breath meeting sky Maybe There is nothing else to look for Maybe it didn't work out for the best Maybe it isn't an unfortunate mess Maybe no great spirit is helping Anything go your way Maybe Just maybe Life unfolds Relentlessly With no holy plan Maybe It is sacred Just as it is Its power and innocence Require no justification Its perfection requires no meaning Maybe nothing Means anything Other than what the Rose Means When it blooms It means Here I am Here I am Here I am Here I am - Maya Luna  Photo by Slawek K. Used with permission.
 Bathing in Black Light. Teotihuacan, Mexico.
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