poem on aging

as a child when i told her i was afraid she would die,
my mother would reply, i’m too mean to die

you can’t get rid of me that easily

(which was so far from the truth.)

well, i’ve got so much more to live,
i want to age like a fine wine

and it’s only recently that i’ve been crushed

and am fermenting

let the grapes mature and age in their unique flavor
we each have something all our own to share
and i’m so young with so much left to give.

fallen rising now

an early call out from the center of the world
(do not forsake yourself
(do not betray yourself

we, each of us, are tempted by this call

(listen to that own great voice from within
(it will not lead you astray
and out, into the world, we are all pulled and following
this trajectory of our limitless desire like a golden 
thread, find home again in the midst of even a thousand travesties
what is within us is the strongest thing we have hardly yet seen
what is within us cannot be broken even if it meets the shattering again
and again, we fall yet, arising from within it all, we arise again
stronger now, listening now, hungry now to follow our own glorious call
let anger and sorrow move through you like birds in flight
or crawl mud slogging like the earth worm trailing bright
earth angels we are all called from within to know this fight
we battle ourselves, against our own good night 
we battle ourselves against this, our own good night
(enemies all within
and this is how the world ends, as the poet says
II this is how the world begins II with this, our own golden thread //

mission statement

what did you come here to do?

i came here to remind them of earth beauty. 

high alpine lake in peru, so high you can drink out of it,lapping like a dog

high alpine lake in peru, so high you can drink out of it,lapping like a dog

cordillera blanca trek, central peru

cordillera blanca trek, central peru

peru 1137

farmed terraces on the island of amantani on lake titicaca, South America

15 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 8 ~ Leaving

Welcome to 15 Days of Writing Prompts. Today we’re on Day 8; congrats you’ve completed half of them 🙂 Keep writing…

“Write about “leaving.” Approach it any way you want. Write about your divorce, leaving the house this morning, or a friend dying.” (from Natalie Goldberg’s Writing Down the Bones)

medicine people, new and old

As in times of old, the people went to the doctors for their ills. Yet, as time would have it, in keeping step with modern life, the face of the doctor has changed much. You see, it used to be there was a woman sitting out beneath the oaken sheath. She’d sit there all day in yonder field, sewing, milking her one goat fair, making cheese, or spinning an old yarn for the children who came by after school. It’was like this in the olden days. Whereas now, the old man you go to see in a sterile room doesn’t know your family, doesn’t have a goat or sheep and himself is harboring a cold from spending all his time indoors and is sick from false air.

‘Tis no surprise that it’s ended up in this way, my kin, but it is a shame if you ask me. With the new modern white-coat, who beat out the old hag long ago, many of the finest things about country medicine have been lost in those times, too. Many aides are lost in this sterility. Before, the midwife would come tromping over on a horse, she’d sit with ya while you were ill and she’d bring her knapsack of herbs picked from her very own garden. But now, we again have ‘em in white lab coats making medicines in glass beakers. ‘Tis nothing wrong with this, in fact, it’s an advancement in many ways. Yet, what’s fallen out in the middle of this great divide has a lot to do with bedside manner and accessibility.

You see, along with that there midwife having the keys to yer healing in her own garden, she’d share somma those seeds with you, too. And that very plant which did grow in your very garden then, was the same plant that healed ya last year. She’d’ve taught ya how to use it and so you knew that and could pass it on. It became the medicine of the house, the medicine spreading everywhere it’s needed. Try to do that with a beaker drug! No, in that way this current medical system makes us dependent.  And when someone’s dependent, it’s true that they become helpless in some way. Use to be people knew how to take care of themselves and pass on the healing knowledge, but now it’s relegated to ol white gown in his white sterile room.

The dependency isn’t doing good things for our society, you see. Yes, it saves lives and makes some a great deal better, but a lot falls through the cracks, a whole lot isn’t getting much better. And it’s this I’m writing about, this that needs a-pointing-to, cuz it’s easy to get swept up in “what is” and forget there could be somewheres better we can go. Medicine of the people, medicine of the earth, the old white coats make a fear factor about the herbs, but they’re the traditional allies of what cures.

15 Days of Writing Prompts: Day 7~ BeLoved Place

Welcome to Day 7 of 15 Days of Writing Prompts! Here’s the prompt for today from Natalie Goldberg’s Writing Down the Bones,

“Visualize a place that you really love, be there, see the details. Now write about it. It could be a corner of your bedroom, an old tree you sat under one whole summer, a table at McDonald’s in your neighborhood, a place by a river. What colors are there, sounds, smells? When someone else reads it, she should know what it is like to be there. She should feel how you love it, not by your saying you love it, but by your handling of the details.”

Mmm a good one; enjoy!