Spin Us the Web of Peace

Spider Woman

by Susan Boulet

from the Goddess Knowledge Cards

Grandmother Spider,

weave your gossamer threads 

around this spinning planet.

Reconnect us to

the web of life,

to our place in the cosmos.

Remind us

of our interdependence

on the earth

and its every living

and non-living thing.

Let one perfect dewdrop fall

to coat the morning.

Weave your web

artfully through our hearts,

so that we become caught up 

in earth's beauty

and wish to do nothing

to mar its perfection.

Raven is casting a black eye

upon the clouds and cacophony

of war.

Mother Earth is weeping

at our lack of unity.

But wait! 

Coyote is singing you

his weaving song.

Come! Quickly!
wrap us

in silken threads

of planetary

peace.

I am posting this for Mary's prompt at dVerse later today: Peace. It is the U.N. World Peace Day, so it's a timely topic. (It is always a timely topic.) Do click over to dVerse, as there will be some wonderful poems about peace to peruse.

Zen Beach

My Wickaninnish Waves

Wave upon wave,

rolling in to shore,

wipes my mind clean.

***

Heart lifts in joy,

adjusts its rhythm

to the song of the sea.

***

Head in the sky,

feet on the earth :

at one with it all.

Radar Hill at sunset

At Real Toads this morning, A Word With Laurie offers us the word: Zen, and asks the question: how do you achieve peace? Definitely my cup of tea, and make mine Oolong, please.

Bigger Than the Sky

[image from google]


There are panthers
in the forests of Mumbai.
This sets me dreaming
of a land where temples
lean towards the sky.
A poet walks in footsteps
of Siddhartha
as another day
on Planet Earth goes by.

There's a doctor
in the refugee camps  of Gaza
who lost three daughters
to Israeli bombs.
He works for peace
and daily crosses borders.
"I shall not hate," he says.
I shall not cease."

There's a Sky-show going on
this very second!
We live in miracles,
Traveler,
you and I.
Look up.
Look up!
Let's never cease
our striving
to keep our vision
bigger than the Sky.

A Monastery of the Heart

[image from google]

Some days,

when the news

everywhere

is bad,

when the endless

talking and

talking and talking

of the Talking Heads

makes me shake

my own
befuddled head

at the

utter futility

of all those Words

and conjectures,

all the

completely unproductive

histrionics,

I turn the tv off.

I do not turn on

the radio.

I live in

the sweet silence

of No Words,

and No Sound,

save those of the breeze

blowing by,

the creak of

the porch swing,

and the sweet twitter

of the small

neighbourhood birds,

the pecking

of that darned

demented woodpecker

on the tin garage roof,

punctuating

the tranquil sound

of

silence.

Routinely,

I turn the noise

completely off,

(or never

turn it on),

and retreat

to the

sweet peace

of the monastery

in my heart.

A Flowering of Hearts

[image from google]

Kids, between the devastating disaster in Japan, flooding through the prairies in Canada, and now the tornadoes in the southern States,  it seems like every week we are hearing about new natural disasters. Earth is trying to tell us something about global warming, while the Fat Cats try to deny it is even happening, in order to go on stuffing their pockets with the profits from our global devastation. It occurred to me to post this poem from the past, written in the time of El Nino. Same message, different day.

From El Nino to La Nina,

with floods, tornadoes,

wind and weirder weather,

Mother Earth has been

indicating to us

her grave displeasure.

Our hearts beat

in sympathy

with her,

share her dis-ease.

We seem to know that

we have lost our way,

but how do we

find the words to say,

the prayers to pray,

that will

unseat a dynasty

of such greed

and hungry power?

Shift

shift

the collective consciousness

to a more peaceful paradigm:

there is still time

to join together

all our human hearts

- the only place where

peace can truly flower.

The Wild Woman On Love

[Love Cats from p4poetry.com]

for Poets United's Thursday Think Tank prompt: Love

When I was young,
I dreamed Love
was out there
somewhere
just waiting for me,
and one day
it would find me.

When I was young,
I was tame.
I had been
trained
to stay within
safe confines,
trained to dream
standard
Technicolor dreams,
of boundaries
surrounded by
white picket fences.
Trained not to think
for one moment
that life could be
an adventure,
could be More,
could be
wild and free.

Marriage,
babies,
divorce,
single motherhood,
all hard work,
too exhausted
to do much more
than survive,
and yet,
somehow,
I did.

Love had been
a disappointment.
I did not find The One.

But I began to realize
you can't find
the love you need
Out There,
only within.
Instead of
looking for
The One,
I had to learn
the harder task,
of learning to value
and have compassion
for The Self.
Instead of looking
for the person
who would complete
my life,
I needed
to be that person,
and complete it
for myself.

It was a hard lesson,
accompanied by
tears,
but it was the lesson
I was meant to learn
this lifetime:
how to go it alone.

In time,
I began
to dream
a very wild
dream.
It involved
the universe,
and trust,
and one gigantic leap
out of my comfort zone
and into the
life of my dreams.

Wild Woman came alive
with an excited howl,
finally freed from
her fetters,
and we plunged into
frizzy-haired
wolf-howl
West Coast
living,
liberation,
life without limits,
where Different
was welcomed
and normal,
where life was
as big or as small
as you wanted
to make it.

In time,
I had to leave
that place.
But I brought
Wild Woman
with me
when I left.
She was rather quiet,
and tired,
bone-weary
from the long fatigue
of living.
Every now and then
she rattles my bones and
gives a long howl
to let me know
she is still in there,
still up for
another adventure,
for newness,
for dreams
with no limits.

We are still in love
with the land,
with the wind,
with the tall and  
toppling trees,
with night skies
and morning dew
and the smell of earth
stirring
in springtime.

Love? It never was
what I had been taught.
It never did come in
as a gift
from someone else
in the way
I had expected.
Instead, it goes out,
constantly,
from within
to all that
surrounds me:
babies, old people,
dogs, horses,
the sky,
forest trails,
the sea,
eagles and herons,
humanity itself,
transcendental heroes.
Love is in the living.
Love has never been
in the receiving,
nearly as much as
it is in 
the giving.

Midnight Moon

[utahskies.org]

La Luna,

so full and round

and golden,

so beautiful

and tranquil,

so serene,

midnight moon,

looking down

on this planet

of distress and turmoil,

beam us

some much-needed

peace.

A Word from Thay

[image from freebase]

Thich Nhat Hanh

Walk and touch peace every moment.

Walk and touch happiness every moment.

Each step brings a fresh breeze.

Each step makes a flower bloom.

Kiss the Earth with your feet.

Bring the Earth your love and happiness.

The Earth will be safe

when we feel safe in ourselves.

Being Peace

[image of Iraqi refugees from sundaytimes.lk]

In my Peace Globe hopping with yesterday's Blogblast for Peace, I have come across some amazing individuals. You can visit Mimi's site at mimilenox.com to check out the list of over 300 participants, if you wish. There are some inspiring peace activists listed there.

The woman I am blown away by is Allie McNeill at http://www.watergatesummer.blogspot.com/
She has "adopted" a displaced Iraqi family, who fled the war in their country and are trying to make a new life in the States. They have been so affected by war that the children still play low on the floor, below the windows, and the whole family startles at loud noises.

Allie is doing everything she can to welcome them to their new home, and is giving hands-on assistance, gathering resources from wherever she can to help them with their needs.

She is compassion in action. She is Doing Peace, she is Being Peace, she is Peace walking around on legs and holding out its hand. She makes me proud to be a human being.  Check her out if you wish. I found this story to be so inspiring, it makes me humble. We can write all our lofty words and make our dreamy wishes. This woman is out in the trenches, holding out her hand to the dispossessed and the disenfranchised.

What a story! What a woman! You can find this one family's story on her site. They put a face on what happens to ordinary people during war.

And now for something completely different.......

[image from vancouverisawesome.com - Vancouver is my big-city neighbour!]

............and utterly NON-peaceful. I am watching a documentary called Trinity and Beyond: the Atom Bomb Movie, which depicts the dropping of bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and the subsequent  testing of atomic and hydrogen bombs by the USA through the 1950's. It is simply appalling to watch the absolute insanity, filmed as they  exploded these massive bombs on the deserts and in the oceans of the planet, unleashing whatever at-that-time-unknown cataclysmic repercussions, and unloading huge quantities of radioactive material into the air to settle over humans and all other life everywhere.

They showed some green rock still highly radioactive fifty years later. They did not know what they were dealing with - the footage shows men standing within sight of the blast, watching the detonation. And "testing the viability of boats to nuclear blasts" by positioning ships full of men within the blast zone, some of which sank to the bottom of the sea.

Why was there not a huge public outcry?

I remember nuclear war seemed a very real threat when I was a youngster in school. I grew up with that fear. The adults all believed (or were led to believe by the careful news releases of the governments of the day) that it was a very real possibility. There were drills at school. Some people dug bomb shelters in their back yards. I remember being terrified when Russian ships were heading towards the Bay of Pigs and Kennedy did not back down.

I was a young mom when Chernobyl happened, and I was rivetted to the tv, afraid that it might set off a domino effect, igniting other reactors across the world, and that my children would suffer - the world's children would suffer. I imagine many of the children of Chernobyl are still suffering the effects of that "accident".

This is a power that humans are foolish to mess with. And there isn't even a safe way to contain the material,  if we tried to eliminate them.

I have peace on my mind, as November 4th approaches and the huge and accelerating Blogblast for Peace project gets underway. People from all over the world will be taking part and it does give one hope that the vast majority of us simply want to live in a world at peace. There are enough challenges in life without people having to try to survive in war zones.

I will finish watching this........thing........as one needs to know, I suppose, just how foolish governments can be. The only "safe" nuclear weapon is a non-existent one. And any hugely destructive force,  at risk of being left in the hands of humans, who can be reactive, angry, unwell or downright psychotic, or even just distracted, sleepy or careless, is a recipe for certain disaster which, fortunately until now, we have avoided, don't ask me how.

To finish on an upbeat note: judging from the people in countries all over the world pledging to join this movement for peace on the 4th, peace is an idea whose time has come. It is trying to happen. Imagine, if it does.............

[image from peaceabbey.org]

A Celtic Blessing of Peace

[image from the Global Peace Project website at bhagavandharma.org]

Deep Peace, I breathe into you,
O weariness, here.
O ache, here!
Deep peace, a soft white dove to you,
Deep peace, a quiet rain to you,
Deep peace, an ebbing wave to you!
Deep peace, red wind of the east from you,
Deep peace, gray wind of the west to you,
Deep peace, dark wind of the north from you,
Deep peace, blue wind of the south to you!
Deep peace, pure red of the flame to you,
Deep peace, pure white of the moon to you,
Deep peace, pure green of the grass to you,
Deep peace, pure brown of the earth to you,
Deep peace, pure gray of the dew to you,
Deep peace, pure blue of the sky to you!
Deep peace of the running wave to you,
Deep peace of the flowing air to you,
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you,
Deep peace of the sleeping stones to you,
Deep peace of the Yellow Shepherd to you,
Deep peace of the Wandering Shepherdess to you,
Deep peace of the Flock of Stars to you,
Deep peace of the Son of Peace to you,
Deep peace from the heart of Mary to you,
And from Bridget of the Mantle,
Deep peace, deep peace!


A Celtic blessing of peace for all hearts tonight.......I havent been able to find a source, other than it being adapted from some Celtic runes long ago..........

Tree Beings I Have Known

I have a treat for those of you who don't live near rainforests. This big fellow, and the ones below, live in the forests in the Pacific Rim National Park, a peninsula alongside the Pacific Ocean on the west coast of Vancouver Island. Across the harbour from Tofino is the big island called Meares Island, whose mountains face the village and create its harbour. On Meares, there is a fantastic trail called the Tall Tree Trail, which winds among some of the biggest tree giants still alive on the planet.

This is the Hanging Garden Tree, named  because of the many and various life forms that grow upon and hang off of her. I wrote a poem about her, called In the Presence of the Sacred, which can be found here : http://stardreamingwithsherrybluesky.blogspot.com/2010/06/mandarin-moon.html

because in her presence, I felt a spirituality stronger than anything I have ever experienced in a church. And because, as a mother of four, I identify with her strength and endurance, giving life to other life forms, staying strong and steady to nurture life..

These photos were taken ten years ago, when I had these lovely creatures out every window, and along every forest trail - miles of trails within the park, all full of peaceful presences covered with moss and fern, some trunks so big it takes a circle of people holding hands around it  to encircle their girth.

A medium-sized one.

There is a wonderful smell in the forest, air clean and fresh,  pungent and primeval, with only the ocean breezes to color it, no smells of  vehicles or industry - just clean, breathing air from these divine presences, inhaling our carbon dioxide, exhaling our precious and necessary oxygen. It is the damage to the air and the ozone that makes me the most upset, in all that is happening on this short-sighted planet.

Working among the First Nations people for eight and a half years, they taught me as they were taught by their ancestors : in every decision, one must think about how it will affect our

descendants, to the seventh generation.

Aboriginal wisdom we non-aboriginals should heed and respect, for it is earth-wisdom, from those who have lived in balance with and respected Mother Nature for centuries.

When a tree falls naturally in the forest, it becomes a nurse-log, which decomposes and in turn nourishes life on its trunk and all around it, over time.

Me, among my brethren.

A twisty trunk. Some of the trees along the outernmost edge of the forest, facing the sea, and recipient of the harsh winter winds, show their tenacity in withstanding the constant battering. They may all lean backwards, their branches bent and knotted. Yet they endure. I don't have any photos of them at hand this moment. Would be worth a photo shoot this winter:)

I love imagining little hobbits curling up in these hollows. Or perhaps fairies or gnomes....or, more prosaically, rabbits and chipmunks.

And down the path and away, until another day.

I still live only an hour and a half from these miraculous tree beings, and count that among my many blessings!

I Remember 9/11

I am flying my Peace globe on September 11th, in solidarity with Mimi Lenox at http://www.mimiwrites.blogspot.com/ who started the fast-growing Blogging For Peace movement.

On November 4th, in 50 countries around the world, we will be flying globes for world peace. Today, in light of the growing discord around the "pastor" in Florida who planned to burn the Qu'ran on September 11, and the backlash of anger that has been touched off in response, it is important to speak out for peace, not fan the flames of more hatred, division and discord.

I remember September 11, 2001. I was ill, in bed, when the phone rang and my daughter Lisa said, "Are you watching the news? They're flying planes into buildings in the states." I turned it on and watched in horror and disbelief. And with a horrible, sinking feeling............. because I knew when George Bush was elected there would be a war, and now I knew for sure that it would happen.

Over those first horrible days, when emotions ran so high, I listened to the administration's rhetoric and grappled with a mixture of feelings. It was terrible what had happened, what some misguided and extremist human beings had done to so many thousands of innocent other human beings, and their families. But I also knew there were events preceding this attack that were being ignored in the endless news discussions.

This week has seen a rise in rhetoric, in anger, in further estrangement. Acts of aggression cannot help but provoke such a reaction. They are not the way to peace.

Words fail me, at the moment. But I happened upon this prayer, tonight, riffling through my Earth Prayers book. I shall offer it here, to accompany my globe, in hopes no books get burned, no bad things happen, flared tempers will subside, and some manner of appeasement is managed, somehow, some way.

Here we are, God - a planet at prayer. Attune our spirits that we may hear your
harmonies and bow before your creative power

that we may face our violent discords and join with your Energy to make
heard in every heart your hymn of peace.

Here we are, God-a militarized planet. Transform our fears that we may
transform our war fields into wheatfields, arms into handshakes, missiles
into messengers of peace.

Here we are, God-a polluted planet. Purify our vision that we may perceive
ways to purify our beloved lands, cleanse our precious waters,
de-smog our life-giving air.

Here we are, God-an exploited planet. Heal our heart, that we may
respect our resources, hold priceless our people, and provide for
our starving children an abundance of daily bread.

Joan Metzner, from Earth Prayers

From my tired, weary, but still-hopeful heart, blessings and peace to all who long for peace - world peace, peace in every land, in every heart, on every hillside, under every tree, beside every garden, in every trench. May peace fall over the war zones of the world. May the only noise to be heard be the packing up of the bombs and guns, and the silent retreat of the stealthy, as they dismember the Improvised Explosive Devices.

May there never be another day like September 11, 2001, anywhere in the world.

Two Poems Against War

The war in Afghanistan - photo from yeahisaidthat.com

People on the planet

are on the move.

Fleeing political persecution

below

and bombs above,

it's hard to prove

which is which,

but it all must feel the same.

It all means flight;

the faces all wear pain;

row upon row

of displaced people

huddled against

the cold of night

or walking in the rain,

holding hands and helping,

foul weather friends,

they straggle

across borders,

to line up under tarps

and wait for this

nightmare

of human folly

to end.

The bombs rain down

"to keep their country safe"

the Suits all say.

But, their homes

in rubble around them,

under an exploding sky,

they can probably be forgiven

for not appreciating the "help"

or understanding why.

Three American lives

are imprisoned

and at risk

and governments mobilize

to talk,

all grave of face,

while thousand upon thousand

other human lives

are for years

displaced,

the "casualties of war",

another war

to Keep Freedom Safe

but safe for who?

As if we ever knew.

How did it come to be

that dropping bombs

became the way

to peace?

Old women

weeping in the mud

on my tv,

their normal lives

suspended

for the duration,

Tomorrow a questionable part

of the equation,

Today

a nightmare

dreamed by

an entire nation,

from which they cant

awaken.

People on the planet

are on the move.

Once more

long lines of

the dispossessed

cross borders

into lands that

do not want them.

Memories of

World War Two

come back to haunt them.

It seems the more technology

we gain,

the more shared pain,

the less we understand

the sacredness

of living,

and our true purpose

here

which is for giving.

Across blue springtime skies

jets soar like swallows

dropping bombs

in all the hidden hollows

that on-screen

are portrayed

like video games

the Big Boys play,

that carefully do not show

the human lives

scrabbling among the rubble

down below.

From space,

we look so pretty:

blue and white,

mountain ranges and water

spread about for our delight.

The bombs,

and all the misery,

are ours.

War is Man's invention:

the Suits, in all their might,

juggling their powers,

have created

one more disaster

that can never

be made right.

From above,

the Divine Source

that gave us

life on earth

must regret

entrusting to us solely

a gift of so much worth,

must be waiting for us to

finish ourselves off

so life can start again

somewhere more holy.

**********************

Deep in the

hidden caverns

of Mother Earth

moving from place

to distressed place

are Peaceful Beings

whose soul/sole purpose

is to beam Peace

upon the Planet

keeping it in

its natural cycles

and rotations

while other men

play war games

with the population.

These Beings

focus all their

energy

on peace

to help the centre hold

against the onslaught

of human error

that topples life

in place upon place

into distress and terror

across the embattled face

of Mother Earth,

weeping under

the crash of bombs

-peace by innuendo?-

released by young men

pushing buttons

the way that only yesterday

they played

Nintendo.

It is all human folly,

the result of a world

gone mad

pursuing the Myth of More:

more Things,

more Land, more Power,

from a world

of finite resources.

We squeeze and squeeze:

just a little bit more,

just let me have mine

and then we'll talk

conservation:

up ahead somewhere

other generations

can pull in their belts.

Just this little bit more

wont hurt,

no one will even

feel it.

The irony being

that in five minutes

the sky can rain down bombs

and we'll be forced to

hit the road

with only the clothes

on our backs,

all our Stuff

reduced

to what we can pack.

Bombs that rain so

Freedom can prevail?

Do the refugees believe?

Or do they flee the bombs

as much as they wish to be free?

Politics mere empty chatter

to the mass of humanity

that's seething

across the barren plains,

as sheer survival

boils down to

simply breathing.

The placid earth

waits silently below

for man to get a grip

and let his inner guidance flow.

For somewhere deep inside

we Know.

Bigger Than the Sky

photo from free-extras.com
There are panthers
in the forests
of Mumbai.
This sets me dreaming
of a land
where temples
lean towards
the sky.
A poet walks
in footsteps of Siddhartha
as another day
on Planet Earth
goes by.

There is a doctor
in the refugee camps
of Gaza
who lost three daughters
to Israeli bombs.
He works for peace
across Israeli borders.
"I shall not hate,"
he says.
"I shall not cease."

There's a Sky-show
going on
this very second!
We live in miracles,
Traveler,
you and I.
Look up,
look up.
Let's never cease
our striving
to keep our vision
bigger than
the Sky.

Prayer for Mother Earth

photo by NASA

From El Nino to La Nina,
with floods, tornadoes,
wind and weirder weather,
Mother Earth has been
indicating to us
her grave displeasure.

Our hearts beat in sympathy
with her,
share her dis-ease.
We seem to know that
we have lost our way,
but how do we
find the words to say,
the prayers to pray,
that will
unseat a dynasty
of such greed
and hungry power?

Shift
shift
the collective consciousness
to a more peaceful paradigm:
there is still time
to join together
all our human hearts
- the only place where
peace can truly flower.

LOVER OF THE SKY

2002

I am a lover of the blue sky,
perfect clouds
like a dream sail by;
of a green walk in the wild wood;
of trees dripping on me
where I stood;
of mist rising up
where the river bends;
of the small sweet song
of a striped-headed wren.
I am a lover of the burning flame
lit for world peace
in hearts the same.
I am a lover of the morning sun,
already radiant
the day begun.
I am a lover of the whale, leaping,
of the blue, blue hills
in the sunset sleeping.
I am a lover
of the eagle's cry,
who sweeps and soars
without a Why.
I am a lover
of life alone,
of the heart's peace
when it's at home.
I am a lover
of my old dog's smile,
of his warm brown eyes,
of his lack of guile.
I am a lover of the warm spring rain,
of the smell of earth stirring
to life again.
I am a lover of the ocean's roar,
of the sandy beach
stretching all before.
I am a lover of rock and log,
of driftwood shapes
looming through the fog.
I am a lover of clouds, of stars,
of the falling dark,
of soft guitars,
of the meadowlark,
of the summer's breeze,
of days of struggle,
days of ease,
of heartfelt love
gone away too soon,
of goodbyes under
a slice of moon.
I am a lover
of fresh-cut grass,
of children's laughter,
of dogs I pass,
of babies all
innocence and rapture,
of the bent and aged
who tremble after,
of the falling leaves,
of a job well done,
and I am a lover
of beasts that run,
of water that moves
and creates its own way,
of the journey made
and the price I pay.
I am a lover
of brand new books,
those journeys that
I never took.
I am a lover of music that sings,
songs of the heart,
the hope it brings,
and the flight of poems
for a brand new dawn
that knows this life
is Moving On.
Like the heron, stalk-still
at the water's edge,
makes a sudden leap -
I am the same.
Poised to dive
from a tilting ledge,
the horizon lit
with a golden flame,
I'm waiting
to hear
Someone
call my name.

OM SHANTI

September 2, 2002

Om Shanti.
(I am a peaceful soul.)

Peaceful
as the ancient wise old
stones
that rise up gray
against a brooding sky
as detached
as the dove-shaped clouds
that wisp serenely
by

Our souls have
traveled
far
'cross distant galaxies
from their home of silence
beyond the stars
From the moment we are born,
we are returning
along a pathway
that is
uniquely
ours

Om Shanti
I am a very
peaceful soul.
Tell me your dream,
and is it peaceful too?
How came we here
to this veiled question
written on the sky?
Another path diverging:
walk on,
or just go by

We live this life like a dream
that is dreaming itself.
Bemused we ponder
the way
we're meant to take
We sleepwalk
through our
solitary choices
and, at dream's end,
of one accord,
we wake.