Older

 As people are growing older            and older,

the quest doesn't become long life, as the days are running out.

It becomes meaning,

            if they're wise.

If there's only more days, drained of meaning,

life becomes

            unbearable.

Photo by Ravi Kant

Fortunately it seems,

most people think,

that squeezing out a couple of kids, or attain power, or just be part of any

powerplay (as if the very act of reproduction, or pulling other peoples' strings, or meddle where they need not           is quite enough to, not soak in perhaps, but get enough moisture, not to die of thirst.).

Bless their hearts.

!

Self portrait: with Spirit

But for the rest of us; the tainted, the tattered, the broken            the worried minds,

the answer can never be that simple. Or, we simply can't reach that far (it's difficult when your arms are lame or sinkhole gripped tired.)

Meaning is elusive

can never be owned (for the power people it's as irritating as love. In the end you cannot fake it, however hard you try).

We have to be very imaginative,            or very simple

For now, the highest meaning in my own Self,

is being with tribe (when energy allows)

being alone with Spirit (when need arise)

and the goal supreme            worth every strife

is making pancakes for embodied Love.

Sun as in Sunflower

Sunflowers follow me, over the world. Or, they're not actually following me as in trodding behind me on spindly roots. Rather, they grow where l stay. Perhaps l'm dtawn to sunflower people. Being one myself.

In my sister's garden

From Magic land in Virginia to a city plot in New Orleans. Over the Atlantic to Sweden, in my parent's garded, in my oldest sister's garden, there they are: sunny faces, explicitly oversized. Life symbols -determined to make things right.

Cleaning Day

 If you don't know what to do, you can always clean your room,

or your laptop, or your wardrobe, or that place under the sofa that we don't want to talk about.

If you don't know what to do, you can always exercise your body,

it needs attention too. Mine is hardly a temple, but its a sweet shack,

for the soul to dwell, to experience the world. 

Use small words. Words are a threatened species: overused, overblown ... words can get tired too you know. Save the big ones, for another day.

This is not sad. If that's what you believe you haven't experienced sadness. Your simply a spoilt brat (Hey, I' talking to myself here ... you know).

Live long, be wise, stay strong ... and,

if you don't know what to do, you can always clean your room,

Spirit Can't Be Forced

Spirit can't be forced

     just listened to

        reeled in

            playfully

Aboriginers do something creative every morning

first thing

If only a line

    in the sand

I was told

to show the Creator    

                they are willing to be creators too

If I remember it right. Doesn't matter. It's a great idea,

        reeling in Spirit first thing, in the morning

transforming dreamtime to creating time

         very softly, throughout the day

Over the abyss - journal

The Joy of a Finished Book

Editing is a glorious thing. To have a text, see what the author aims at, and take up the brushes - figuratively speaking - and get to work. Sometimes you need a knife - also figuratively - to make the story, big or small, shine through. Never is it as satisfying as when you can do it for someone you love. Therefor, I got a big grin on my face and a soft feeling in my heart, when l read the dedication in Travel Tales from Unknown Realities.

My husband's tales

There is an added tingling warmth through the heart area, when l personally know the journey and the hardships we both been through to get these tales published. With no further ado, if you are curious, you find the first chapters available on Amazon, as well as an online version, if you don't want to wait for print, which is in the process.

My beautiful husband

Lightness Altar

Lightness. Wind and air. A precious memory of ocean; seashells l found in my handbag. Faerystone and weddingrings; from a roadtrip, from lives of commitment. The most humble of altars can hold many things - embedded in a makeshift arrangement.

Lightness altar - until l need the brushes

 

Kicking Angry Spirits

 Angry spirits

       woke me up

whispering my ear.

I wonder what they want.

When l drink my morning coffee

I wonder what they want,

when l brush my teeth

I ask them. They scatter round,

and whine. As only angry spirits can whine.

Morning sun

I hit at them solely. Not at anyone else.

In the garden, on the grass: l hit one,

with a Tai Chi arrow. Another with a yoga kick. There are no such things you may say. But there are, there are.

Thai Chi crossbow stance create perfekt arrows. Yoga moves can floor, the most obnoxious spirit., in an ultrarapid speed.

Smack, smack, smack.

Little spirits gliding down,

alongside tree trunks     grass straws     

the side of my cheek

                    Good riddance