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thanks giving

At the Table

You want your fond place at the table
You want to be a fellow jolly good "so say we all."
I tell you, the table is vastly laden with
layers of little memories, which
no two see the same.
We arrive at the feast
hungry for virtue, for love, for
forgiveness of our wanton ways;
willing to be merry, to partake of
ritual, merge through
Constellations, moving, shifting,
making waves in collective
consciousness, appear to reveal
sparkling impulses of truth.
On that star marked evening
taking in the sweet, evocative air,
embracing untranslated joy,
something catches in our throats.
The song we need so desperately
to share can only express in shards.
The pain, sucked in with our breath,
becomes one with the bread and wine.
This is the blood, the body,
marinated in salty tears, preserving
what has not yet found
appropriate release.

Again, and yet again
meeting, to take sustenance.
Hungry battle wounds
courageously opening,
to imbibe the healing
of grace.

music of the spheres

In quiet night sky
while starlight and peace prevail,
a haunting rhythm,
music of moving spheres,
slowly soars, entrances,
embraces fear,
kisses taunt of pain away.
Well into darkness, watching,
hoping for a passing meteor
to swoop down and carry
far into greater space,
where kindly constellations
tell stories of joy and thanksgiving.
Celestial fusion crackles and strains
like an old jazz recording.
Melodies layered through ages;
written on mighty, sacred wind;
told like Homeric verse
by the wanderers --
heavenly nurturing guides
leading us home.

Thanks for sharing

Thanks for sharing
your intimate secrets,
guilty despair.
"How can anything matter?
I am too damaged, dark,
no fun to pay admission."
It is not a birthday without
cake and good wishes.
No cure can take hold without
a get well card,
gift of courage
from caring others.
No rhyme, no rhythm,
no choir – no welcoming
into soft healing warmth.
Toxic potions,
shocking wires,
disconnection from
harried continuity
cannot weave wholeness.
Kind reception, open
revel in shared humanity
etches a loving pattern
for integration,
faith to dare creative leap.
Re-merged, nourished with fuel for
healthy fulfillment.
Multi-hued singing fountains
rejoice in new found company.

Not in Gratitude

Gratitude implies obligation.
Lilting beatitude, delight,
insightful embrace freely express.
Happy in my natural rhythm,
receptive to pleasure;
balm of luscious nectars,
warm melt of radiant bliss,
elation, charismatic exultation.
I am in awe, a true believer;
not on my knees in supplication.
Supine, welcoming grace.

Giving Thanks

Thank you all for being
-- as another year unwinds
All the hearing, touching, seeing
Your shared caring and desires
All the fear, sickness and heartache
All the joy, infectious smiles
Arts in which you kindly partake
in all your various styles
Dear wishes for a future where
convivial peace abides
Thank you all for being
in my life.

Firelight Story

Oh my children,
not so very long ago,
probably in many places still,
we lived in communities
in which we had pride and dignity.
Small enough for everyone to
know your name.
Large enough to provide diverse
resource of skills
and personalities.
Caring, squabbling, challenging
as family.
Able to leap beyond petty animosities
and find a way when a way
must be found.
Entrenched in lessons of former days,
preparation for breaking future ground.
Not just a pretty myth
like heroic champions who protect,
subtract our sins.
Community, adaptive growth within
a solid sphere,
a social network of mutual support,
often said to be what we are here for.
(I hear you sneer; you who tear down magic,
hope, shared trust.)
It could be, community,
our prayed for cure (balancing salvation)
to the follies of humanity's
deadly love
of war.

Soft sensuous clouds drift and blend
as crepuscular iridescent glow descends.
Below, welcoming evening lights,
drowsy trees, cozy homes, familiar rites.
Recall of feasts, merry meets, gift of returning friends
evokes deeply desired peace, belonging, generous amends.

Battle wary, ready for rest, to shelter.
Close this sorry chapter; relax, restore.

No space to listen, reflect, learn how
we could peacefully heal.
Its all teeth and claws, everyday wars,
every night prayers of repent. Every
penny spent to hold back the blame,
shame, certainty that all paths forward
lead to more of the same.

Earth spins; we want answers that
assure us yes, so wise, we are Messiah’s promised.

I give you a bubble of better days.
Ease of peace in contemplation, bliss of
transcendent imagery, artful conversation.
Feel complete
if only for this moment.
Nov/26/2014, 4:02 pm Link to this post Send Email to libramoon   Send PM to libramoon Blog

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