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I want to be strong, mask this need with calm
I want to be real, an open book of truth

The tension leaves me trembling, hungry
Daring you to see

Fall fields, golden brown and getting sleepy
River, sparkling, cold and clear
Branches silhouette, strong and silent
Coopers watch and then take flight
Prey easily seen
without summer’s blanket of green
Majestic eagle discerns a moving shadow
I see the outline of your frame
still

I wait

Will you carry me tonight?
Take me to the quiet of the trees?
Stand watch while I rest?

I could really use a friend tonight.

     You and me, in that tiny cabin, washing dishes, looking out over a weedy field to the pond. A simple human chore, made easier when shared. The truth in you stirred the long dead truth in me. I can still feel your hand brush against mine. I want to stay here in this space, so that feeling never fades.
     We all went to the pond, you swam, I watched. My eyes never left you, and after, we sat in the grass and talked of nothing that I remember. We talked on the phone, reached for speeding trains through our emails. I sent you flowers, you fed me a picnic. On the lakeshore, we watched the boats and willows blowing in the breeze.
     You kept stirring those ashes, till you found the coal. Hard, smelly, dirty, ugly coal. “Hold still,” you said, before you kissed that coal with softest lips, holding my face in your hands. A spark and combustion that frightened us both, two lonely souls, too lost for love. You were much braver than I.
     I betrayed you with my fear, and then you were gone, air sucked from my chest, no longer a fire, just the emptiness of guilt. Your Celtic, pagan seed birthed a raven and a shield, inked into my arm. Freshly aware of fragile life, I returned to the land that feeds my soul.
     You sent them, didn’t you? …our seven sisters who lifted me from my selfish mourning to look into the sky. They and the other guides, especially the wind, singing in the trees, roaring across the canyons, have brought your heart back to me, teaching me what I must do, who I must serve.
     You can see now, can’t you? Finally, the vacuum has expanded into a space worthy of your memory.
     I will try, my friend, to be a worthy vessel for that space.

     I’m not sure if I can say this right, but I’m going to try.
     There are lot of folks who hate everything to do with war, who believe we should never have stuck our nose where it didn’t belong, who believe we were duped into fighting for democracy when the asset protected was only oil. You are the folks I hope to reach with these words. You see, it doesn’t matter.
     Every nation needs a defense. Sure, it would be nice to live in a world where everyone played nice in the same sand box. We don’t. Just look at your family, your co-workers, your neighbors, at any group of humans, including your spiritual community. We don’t always behave. Take that fact and crank it up to the international level, and the bad behavior gets seriously dangerous.
     Humans need rules, boundaries, and those who are willing to enforce them. We are not so evolved that we can walk away from that system. Maybe someday, but not now. So we need those soldiers who are willing to follow orders and be the enforcers.
     My son is one of those soldiers. There were many years of tracking his unit’s location on maps and worrying over stories from those regions. I did not see my son for five years and wondered if I would even know whether something happened to him. He’s safe now, stationed on US soil for the first time since he graduated high school, other than basic training and a very brief stint as a civilian, before he re-enlisted. The Army and the life he’s led have changed him, because you’re right, it’s not a pretty world out there.
     It’s not a pretty world here in our own country, either. Just like every police officer and every soldier, my son has had to do things he’d rather not talk about. But he is still my son. And we still need those willing to be the enforcers. Do you remember when we called them peacekeepers? I don’t think we saw them as the enemy then. I am forever proud of my son and his service. I’m grateful for him and all those who serve in our military and as law enforcement. Whether you want to admit it or not, we need them.
     So,thank you to all of you who’ve served.

I love getting new art. I love that a significant dream is now part of my skin; I can never forget its message.

Who are you, calling me awake this night?
I feel your unrest and turn my ear, but it’s my heart you want.

Go easy with your guide, willing, but untrained.
What is it that you need?

What ache, no angst, what?

Ahhh

The souls cry out to be remembered
not with candy, masks, and games,
but with reverence and tender hearts.

Bring memories to life
that those who’ve passed may live again,
to touch us on Samhain.

Leaving a trail, an apple here and there, scattered in the field, near the place where I wait. An invitation to this cautious creature. Sleek and magnificent, radiating power and mystery. Circle round me, catch my scent. Watch me from afar. I’ve laid no snares in the grass. No rope will claim and pull you, in submission to my will. I ask you to come freely, or come not at all. I invite you on this journey as my companion and my help. I offer you the same. Some days our chests will heave and hearts race, running at full gallop. Some days you’ll carry me, some days I’ll shelter you. We can not know how far we’ll go, nor how close we’ll grow, until we take that first step.

Until you’re ready then, I’ll sit and wait, watching you watch me, wondering if you’ll leave, or come a little closer.

The envelope is sealed, notice given, stamps applied.
Will I set my heart adrift, passed from hand, to bag, to plastic tote?
Will I let these strangers leave me naked at your door?

I’ve never been one to tape notes to the bathroom mirror; I had an ex who did. I often wondered what she got from the toothpaste splattered scraps that she couldn’t get from a clean mirror. Well, I suppose I’m not yet too old to learn something new.

A wrinkled yellow post-it, with two scribbled sentences, has chided me, calmed me, and nudged me, for several weeks. This one speaks today, “Nature does not fight against itself.”

After a fretful night and waking, my answer’s clearly reflected back at me, and settles in that knowing place. Truth finds its home in that same spring that keeps these words flowing out of me. I can no more deny my heart than I can my lungs. Oh trust me, I’ve tried and nearly lost myself in a slow and suffocating death. So, once again I open, let down the shields, and wait.

Am I a fool? Perhaps.I face toward the unknown and set foot upon this journey. Perhaps, I’ll learn a lesson about what energies I draw to my life. Perhaps, I’ll find a companion, whose well is as deep as my own. Perhaps, a passion lit from two flames.

What if dreams took form and space?
What if you could touch the shape of your wish?
Would you trust the connection of finger to hope?

What if you heard your solo echoed in the wind?
What if harmonies joined to become a duet?
Would you sing along?

What if another shadowed your dive?
What if you found you had wings to fly?
Would you try?

What if I offered you my hand?