My beloved friends and I gather together to write.
We do this every week, for years upon years
and we meet, share food and create together.
This I do not take for granted,
this, a blessing beyond all gifts.
This constancy, consistency, and commitment
that sustains us
through all losses & gains –
Patrick O’Neill quotes an Irish saying
“Friendship is the love that heals all loss.”
To remember this while the land is changing, blazing, erupting, and shaking
My beloved friend Araceli said today, “The earth is in a birthing process
and it’s painful and difficult in the middle of these changes to recognize that something new is being born.”
I remember Angeles saying-
“We are a love-starved culture,
and love is the greatest healing power we have.”
And so, last night as we were writing, my friend’s granddaughter came home.
And she inspired this, because she has just found her first love.
What an important subject. There is so much to love that shows itself
through the changes, through the loss,
through our ideas and opinions about what can,
should and should not be.
We can choose love, respect and authenticity
for ourselves and one another and love again
and again and again because life is made up of second chances.
And there is always love first, or as I named this piece, ‘1st Love 1st.’
1st Love 1st….
“The kingfishers enchant the blue
surface of the lake
wilderness moves like this
over the landscape
and you notice
the brighter days
but even in the darkness that closes around you
there is the sound of nighthawks
and you can smell the fragrance of ripe berries and rain
and it pulls you to the pulse that needs no voice
and the supple body hears songs at night
and stars show their faces closer
while everything quiets, becomes
close as eyelashes to one another
the innocence of the body
the tenderness of how the eye lands
silent birds, soft as mullein
and gold that floats down
and makes a place for seeds to land –
dusk & sunrise happen at the same time
and white geese from far away
come along the border of the lake.
a new story is forming, the world is making psalms of skin
and wing-beat in the chest as new as
breathing – aligned with a deeper blue.cobalt
and the white feather floats on the surface – a symbol
for soul that is visible and wherever time has guided you
It’s eternal – as though the feather has been waiting all along
to be recognized and suddenly everything you know and knew is remembered
and forgotten at the same time
and the sound of the kingfishers emerging
and their blue line across the silver air
through the sweet water
to submerge, to find the wished for
granted – the tabernacle,
the body of one enters another
the whole being is seen
day\night\flight & coming
home, we are nourished and fed
this is the bread – the sacred territory
This is the kiss of God.