Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Dear Sister


Dear sister,
I remember.
I remember who we are together, what the love that binds us looks like when it flows into this world.
Imagination, love for what each of us contributes, playfulness, ,inspiration.
When we played, when we created together, it was like riding a magnificent wave and we were dancing on top.
We did not meet with expectation or comparison or social etiquettes. There were no wrong or rights with us. There was only time stretching long before us asking to be filled.
We were queens of our realm, sister, and no one else ever entered. We tried, but no one ever did...

I know you know the story of our parting from your place standing young as I flung far childhood's crown and walked away forever.

They were cruel you know, about our games. Imagination and heart are liabilities in the real world.
Most people called that my growing up.
But what I know was that that was my growing closed, drawing heavy curtain down on the voices of heart that spoke lively in the mind. It became lonely so I replaced them with everyone else's voices and you'd think that would make it feel full but it was even lonelier.
It would lead me into a moment in college where I would put pen to blank paper, try to lay down heart as black ink and the great expanse of empty white would ask me to feel but I couldn't and I would have cried if I could have but the river had long run dry.

But Sister, my river flows now, and the fields are beginning to green again. It moves through the chest and down the face at the brazen beauty that paints itself across this world.
The voices are back too, my voices. They help me create worlds again. They help me play again.
And there is a happy ending to this story, because in the losing I Know what was lost and when Found there appeared a depth unknown before.

It has meant alot of time alone with those voices learning to Hear all over again.

But I remember sister. And when we create together, when we painted birds against sunset and I watched the pink feather through your gold as everyone else doggedly tried to wash brush to ensure it didn't happen to theirs, I watched you softly play with it and it inspired me...
I felt the wave call again.

I know my river will make waves again because I am returning to our realm, cleaning cobwebs, placing tarnished crown upon head once more

and I hold this wish dear and true sister
That when the dust of adult life settles we will return there together again, not as the children we were but as who they dreamed they would be.


Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Return of the Sun(son)

Easter Sunday


In Christian belief, The Son Day.







A time to peel back the lid

And See in a new way.




The autumnal harvest on which we feasted

Filled ourselves brimming


On the experiences, the desires of yesterday


Then the winter rest


The cocoon

Darkness wrapping itself around

Digesting us

Bathing us in the prophecies

Of what the feast of yesterday will become


It pulls us from the inside out

To Re-form

in the image of Our Heart's Longing


And then

pupa splits


Wings of tomorrow unfold

To take us to our destiny


What was only Promise Yesterday

We Become Today


Winged Glory


Let us Re-Joy-ce


Saturday, April 7, 2012

Storytelling:Secrets of Spring Part 1, The First Winter

Occasionally Noelle and I tell stories together. As a way to remember them, I am going to begin recording them here.

photo (2)

One spring morning a little bird sang on a branch and a little bunny hopped in the grass below.

"What are you doing little bunny?" asked the bird

"I am hunting for Easter eggs that I have seen the two legged children collecting! They look so beautiful"

"Ah yes, Easter" said the bird "the colorful Spring celebration. Little bunny, do you know the secret Spring reveals to us?"

"You mean like the surprises in the eggs?" asked the bunny

"Yes, kind of like that. The egg reminds us of new life. New life is all around us now. Would you like to hear the story of the First Winter little bunny?"

"Oh yes please!"

And the bunny settled into a nice patch of clover to listen to the bird sing him a story.

"In the Beginning Time life was new and fresh. The earth was beautiful and green, just as it is now. Flowers, bees, butterflies, flowing water and warm sun washed over the land.

In time the sun became warmer and many of the trees and plants began producing fruit and seeds. All the animals and even two leggeds ate the abundant and delicious plants and lived happily.

Then one day the air changed. It became crisper and cooler. The sun still shone but not for as long. The plants dropped all of their fruit, which the animals collected and saved away since there was much too much to eat at once. Leaves turned lively colors of red gold and orange. It seemed a celebration and the people were happy with the beauty that surrounded them.

But then something strange began to happen. All the leaves dropped from the trees and the plants wilted and died into the ground. No more fruit or nuts or seeds were made. Even the green grass turned brown and lay down quiet. The sun disappeared for longer and longer stretches of time and the air grew colder and colder…

The animals did not understand what was happening. Why was their beautiful home fading away? Why was everything dying? They became sad and scared and retreated into caves and underground to escape the cold.

One night their fear turned to wonder as something magical shone through the dark sky. We're the stars falling?

White covered all, a canvas washed clean.

The animals ate the food they had saved and continued to wait. They still did not understand but the white blanket had brought Hope that all was not lost.

One day the air became a bit warmer. The white began to pull back, revealing new green beneath. Delicate flowers graced stems and the animals left their nests and dens to stretch in the warmth. Life began again.

And this is the Promise of Spring, little bunny-- the return of life and abundance and warmth. The promise that the cold dying back and washing clean of winter will always yield a re-newed life."

"Yes I think I feel it," said the little bunny and hopped away into the spring grass feeling newer and lighter and filled with promise.