The First Poem

image from ipzircon at deviantart.com

Cave woman,
dressed in skins, and pelts,
comes out of her cave,
sits by the fire,
looks up at the stars.
In her heart is a wordless longing,
that she has not yet language for.


Beside her, 
her wolf-pup
lifts his muzzle to the sky
and howls mournfully
at the moon.


The human begins to thump
a steady beat
against her knee.
It grows in intensity and rhythm
until she, too,
tilts her head far back 
and makes sounds in her throat
that have no interpretation,
yet describe her longing
perfectly.

The first poem.


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Gay, over at dVerse, has set a challenge for poets to write about poetry: what it means to us,  what makes it great, etc. This leaped out of my head, Wild Woman that I am :) Congrats to dVerse on its one year anniversary. I remember the excitement when you began. You run a GREAT site. Kudos!!!!

A Late Afternoon At the Lake

[Image of an oil painting, found on google. Artist unknown.]

Kids, last evening, Damian and I were at the lake. I was sitting blissed out in a deck chair while Damian happily tunneled and dug moats around his castle, humming away to himself. In front of me and over a bit was a fifty-ish woman with her golden lab. Of course, the first thing I had done when we arrived was make friends with the dog and say how great it was to see a dog in the water on a hot day.


As I sat watching, I became struck by the closeness of their bond. He was utterly devoted to his mistress, and she was very caring with him, patting him, smoothing the water from his muzzle. I thought "a woman alone", as I recognized the closeness of that bond, when one does not have a significant human Other.


After a bit, the dog lumbered, panting, over to me and we communed. He was such a lovely old soul. "How old?" I asked her, as it was obvious he was near the end of his life.


"Twelve," she replied.


"He's so devoted," I observed.


"Yes, completely," she said. And then she blew my doors off. "My husband died suddenly, three months ago. He wasn't ill, we had no warning. So Charley knows something large has happened. And do you hear that rasping in his breathing? He has cancer, both lungs."


In that moment, the peaceful woman, sitting contentedly by the lake with her dog, became a grieving woman, facing the imminent loss of the dog who was her main comfort.


"Life is so much about loss, isn't it?" I said gently.


"Too many losses," she replied.


Yes, too many losses. 


Every person has an incredible story. I keep discovering this. If you are a human, alive on this planet, you are making a heroic journey. Keep your hearts open, my friends. Observe the landscape you are traveling through. It is littered with stories more fantastic than Scheherazade's.

Message from the Little Grandmother

Keisha Crowther, the Little Grandmother

What the Seer sees

is the miracle 

and the inter-dependence 

of all life:

the rainbow in the dewdrop,

the blade of grass softly sipping,

the spiderweb trembling

on the breeze,

the fly who provides

the spider's meal,

after he has eaten

the flea.

It is the essence of love

that births all life

on this planet.

At a cellular level,

deeply,

we remember

that we come from love

and to love

we shall return.

Nature shows us

our inter-connection

with all life,

as it sings and dances

through the years

striving for

balance.

The Watcher

at the feast

is warning: Caution!

Take only what you need,

and then give back.

Mother Earth

is calling for

your protection.

Human imbalance

is toppling

the bounty

of her flow.

The Seer says:

It is not too late.

You are here

at this moment in time

to give love

and positive energy

towards the transformation

of consciousness

that is trying 

to birth itself

on this planet.

Live from your hearts

and have no fear,

for soon

you will see

a more beautiful earth

than you ever 

could have dreamed.

Blessed Be.

Kids, I am reading Little Grandmother's Message for the Tribe of Many Colors. Keisha Crowther is The Little Grandmother, a Seer who brings us messages from the spirit world about the Great Shift  about to happen on earth: the immense spiritual transformation which has been prophesied by almost all ancient and indigenous cultures. Naturally, I am loving it. You can find out more about her, and watch some of her AMAZING videos, at her website here. 

Colorado Moon

Your eery beauty

draws my eyes

like

the heart

of a candle's flame,

but I know

your color,

blood-red

against the navy sky,

is because

the forests, 

the houses

and the wildlife

all are burning.

Horses and humans flee fire

Sugar Doodle, after rescue

* photos from news sources on google

Kids, the red moon was beautiful, but it hurt to look at it, knowing our neighbors, both human and animal,  in Colorado and Montana, are suffering. I so admire the heroic firefighting efforts that are beginning to contain the fires. And my heart is lifted by the rescue efforts of emergency response teams,  the SPCA, and the Wildlife  people, who are trying to assist humans and animals impacted by this disaster.

Our skies, even as far north as Vancouver Island, are smogged by the neighboring fires, and it is hard to enjoy a summer afternoon, knowing so many lives have been turned upside down this week.

One scientist was quoted as saying: "This is what global warming looks like." I look at Sugar Doodle's coat, and my heart shrivels with pain, and then expands. Someone saved this critter. Wildlife workers tranquilized and carried out a huge moose who had succumbed to smoke inhalation. 

In the face of the overwhelming, it is all we can do, as humans: do what is in front of us, help whichever creature or person is in need. Clean up this planet, one inch, one mess, one human and one creature at a time.

Freaks Part II

Kids, last night was the ultimate! The organizers had regrouped after being slammed the night before and were On It! There were rows, and aisles, and things were under control, so much pleasanter. One could navigate. Whereas we could only hear my gal, k.d. lang, on Friday and not see her, last night we could see EmmyLou, but not hear very well.

Question: why would one go to a music festival and not listen to the music? Why do people feel they have to be talking at all times, to know they're alive?

Anyway. EmmyLou was warm, sweet and wonderful. She spoke so lovingly about the President, to our loud appreciation. It matters to us very much who the President of the USA is, as it impacts us directly. I love Obama, always have and always will. I respect and trust him.

EmmyLou said she wished we could all go down there and vote. Believe me, we do too!

We had Thai food - my new favorite thing in the world is Thai iced tea. I must learn how to make it. Too delicious. I wandered through the tents, full of all the wonderful alternative things I love and rarely get to see, funky clothing, all totally outrageous, wings, fur hats with ears - you know, cool stuff. I bought a new t-shirt and a couple of cd's - AND a wooden giraffe head to hang up among all the  other wildlife I have on my walls. I needed a giraffe and now wish I had bought a zebra too. And I finally found the rainstick I have been promising Damian! He so likes mine. 

But it was when the sun went down that things got really amazing, and the freaks came out in full regalia. A tall man in a yellow and red striped suit on stilts, another man all in white with a mask, women in ballgowns with full length white angel wings, little girls in lit up twinkling butterfly wings - it was all performance art.

It was like Mardis Gras, everyone parading grandly. There were performance dancers, and hula hoop dancers,; everything was lit up against the darkness. I was enchanted. It was the most magical thing I've ever seen. I felt like someone had waved a wand and transported me to All Is Possible, All is Beauty Land. A land where everyone is happy and smiling, where everyone loves everyone else. I wanted to stay. But we had to come home.

We drove home looking at a blood red moon, apparently from the terrible firestorms down in Colorado. Eerily beautiful. Home at one a.m. both nights, last night wonderfully satisfied by my weekend of fun. 

Now, of course, I am wildly behind online. Sigh. That's what today's for :)

* pix from google. Didnt have my camera, rats!

The First Wives Club: a Pantoum

 Cool poster from Snow White and the Huntsman

The First Wives Club arrives at the wedding,
smiling grimly, their clothing black,
hearts all brittle, gay laughter shrill,
old dreams adrift, full of all they lack.


Smiling grimly, their clothing black,
they gather like ravens at the feast,
old dreams adrift, full of all they lack,
eyes darting hungrily, not just for roast beast.


They gather like ravens at the feast,
longing in secret for loves of their own,
eyes darting hungrily, not just for roast beast,
in view, fiercely gay,while in private they moan.


Longing in secret for loves of their own,
they flock together; no partners have they.
In view, fiercely gay, in private they moan.
It is hard for them always to go home alone.


They flock together; no partners have they,
hearts all brittle, gay laughter shrill.
It is hard for them always to go home alone.
The First Wives Club gathers, as it always will. 


This topic appeared randomly in my mind and I decided to try a pantoum with it......My sister and I shall be attending our cousin's wedding (age fifty) in early August. After a brief first early marriage, she waited a lifetime to find her one and only, and is now radiantly happy, living the life of her dreams.


I have been remembering my sister's wedding, some years back,  (she is single now), when my cousin and I and my daughter were there, all dressed in black and lined up winsomely, and how I dubbed us The First Wives Club. Life, as it has a way of doing, has re-shuffled the deck, and some of the players have switched places. I, however, remain stolidly single: no one has dared cross my moat for several centuries. They're smart enough to keep out of my way, no doubt. Hee Hee. As I have the heart of a romantic, I confess there are nights when it is hard to always be the one going home alone from these events. At least this time, my sister and I will travel back together to our waiting livestock! I shall, however, be wearing black!!

A Sea of Asses

Well, kids, last night there were Big Doings for this homebody. My sister and I went to Courtenay to attend the Vancouver Island Music Festival, an annual event held outdoors - three days and nights of incredible music, lots of interesting alternative-type  booths, where we each scored a warm wrap right from the Himalayas, to put round our shoulders as the heat of the day gave way to the cool of the evening. Sold to us by a lovely man who said he was born in the Himalayas. Sigh.

We wandered the booths, ordered a WICKED thick halibut burger for supper, that will be long remembered, then settled into our chairs - far at the back of the venue, behind a sea of bobbing humanity - to pay attention to the fabulous music.

It was a love-and-freak-fest when my fave singer, k.d.lang, appeared, late in the evening. She opened with: “I'm pretty sure there are a lot of freaks in this audience." [Roars of happy agreement.] "Some of you are men who’ll say “my wife dragged me to this k.d.lang concert”......and you may be feeling a little nervous. Well, fellas, in your place, I’d feel a little nervous too.....” Hee hee. She so rocks.

BUT! Our lovely festival, which last year was a manageable couple of thousand or less, everyone stretched out nicely and politely on the grass, this year QUADRUPLED in size, making it rather awful for everyone. You COULD NOT MOVE, it took forever to get anywhere, and God help you if you needed to pee. 

We sat so far at the back that, had the people in front of us  not STOOD through the performance (a Sea of Asses), I could occasionally have caught a glimpse of her head bobbing energetically all over the stage. This was easier when she took off her jacket and showed her red shirt, then I knew where  to look. 

Oh, but her voice – incredible. I could hardly believe I was hearing her in person.  As long as one sat tight, and didnt have to enter that sea of humanity, it was all good. And, trust me, I did not want to enter that sea. I sat tight. AND she sang Halleluia, which made my night. Sigh. What a range she has. 

It was pure heaven. And the moon! It was nearly full,  and outrageously  orange. Spectacular. 

She sang for two hours. We started leaving during what we thought was her encore, but she sang half a dozen songs after that, including Helpless. By then it was midnight and we had a ninety minute ride home. Tonight we go back for Emmy Lou Harris. Yes, little me, out after dark. I think I'm having a Near-Life Experience, hee hee.