There is a Bit of Me From Then

Nothing is simple. So many conglomerations of who we are in this life and from lives past. All of the people we have been...loves...pain...joys...appetites...talents are stored inside of us, popping out like a magickal jack in the box when we least expect it.

Nothing is forgotten...nothing is truly lost or destroyed.

Disconcerting as it is a times, traces of me have come through the years. I have recollected being an elderly Jewish man being herded onto a train in Germany during World War II. That was a surprise. I have been a servant, peasant, soldier, Queen (definitely not what it's cracked up to be..lonely), warrior (majorly more interesting than Queen), Nun (that really sucked) and Soiled Dove (couple of times...apparently I enjoyed that one A LOT!). It's been a long litany of positions in lives that were far from glamorous or easy. However, there was great good in each and lessons to be learned in all.

Each life time is a remarkable distillation of all these things. These are what we call "fantasies" in our lives now....what we want to act out for the fun...but is it just fun or is it a longing much deeper than we wish to acknowledge? Allowed to experience the remainders...emotions and desires or revulsions that come out of nowhere...or that sense of knowing where a place is in town without having been there in this lifetime...give us the reassurance of something more profound happening in our life than meets the eye. I have always believed that all the lessons...all of the growth that we must go through in order to grow spiritually cannot possibly be learned in one lifetime. We have to experience the parts we miss...the victim one lifetime...the robber the next....freedom, slavery, poverty and wealth and all the infinite lessons that go with each piece of the puzzle.

For me, I believe this is what Aleistar Crowley meant when he said that "every man is a star." We are multi-facetted and brilliant in our individuality. We become stars or angels or reach valhalla through our travels intot he infinity. Physics has proven that energy can never be destroyed, only changed into a different form of energy. Essentially we are all energy...that awesome and amazing power that is of God. Making man in his own image speaks of that energy within each of us from the Divine. Damnation comes in when we refuse to acknowledge that divine spark within us that encourages us to grow and become a part of the Ultimate. Accepting as a child...yes...Jesus was right...we lose our wonder and get jaded. We have to be curious and open like children.

I have spent the better part of the last 24 years running away and re-inventing myself because I did not like who I was in this lifetime. I didn't want to hear it. Didn't want to see it. I became unbalanced by embracing parts of what I was previously and overbalanced it with what is now. It's time I actually blend it with what I am now... exploring the bits and taking the joys and lessons from each morsel.

I'm not anticipating an ending to this. I don't believe I'll reach Nirvana anytime soon...though one never knows. I learned a long time ago that you just can't question God, it doesn't work. God just is. It's up to us to figure out how to get back home on our own journey. God left us road signs and markers along the way for each individual. I don't think anyone of these markers are the same for any one person.

Enjoy the journey!

Winter Solstice ( For Alice and For Artos)

And the candles shine
bright halo around the flame
pushing past the darkness
on this the shortest day

Druid whispers
soft moaning sighs
prayers down all the centuries
on this the shortest day

Journeys made in silence
never truly passing alone
Alice is home among the Old Ones
on this the shortest day

To all who remain living
may we remember whence we came
And celebrate the Yule fire light
on this the shortest day

For Terry

For Terry

I have a gypsy heart...following my passion was a rule
and I broke it
settled down to soon
for all the wrong reasons
tried to convince myself I was over you
never was started
never begun
but I carried you with me
to the West and the setting sun

Measuring time
and riding daydreams
I watched the years pass
Children, house and a husband
and the nameless something
standing so close by
longing through the night time
searchng in the day
believing it was just fantasy
I tried to make it slip away

Nightmares came with devestation
silent grief and oceans tears
I stood alone in the destruction
and waged war with guilt and fears
Came a day I just stopped trying
let the pain take me away
and I wished so hard for dying
but a memory bid me stay

Lost in the distance came a calling
so familiar and so sweet
I looked in your eyes and was falling
from the pain that was complete
and the mirror shattered into pieces
crumbling shards upon the floor
watched in wonder and excitement
to find another world and door

Back to the places I once danced in
free and easy, light and wild
I was loosened of my sorrow
and once again the gypsy child.
So you see you were the miracle
you had always held the key
and you freed me to come home now
to the you and I
and where we
should be

December 13, 2009

Cocoon

It is so funny how something so small can make you start dancing again...and I danced...sang...took a candlelight bubblebath. I sat and edited some of my poetry, turned the lights down, listened to country music all night....something I hadn't really done since high school. I had cut that part of me of since then. I tried to escape Provo completely, but it's where I spent my teenage years and some of my married ones. My kids were born there. I had traveled from one end to the other and both sides. I finally admitted to myself that I was homesick. It crept up when I went back with my family to my ex-mother-in-laws funeral in 2002. On the drive home, I cried when I hit the Utah county line.

I laughed long and hard at that! I think I laughed a lot more at myself and everything else. It felt good.

The last few months have been the most hellish I have ever had in my life. I seriously thought of suicide a couple of times. I didn't do it, of course or I wouldn't be writing this. I sort of felt like I went sky diving with my eyes closed and they pushed me out of the plane without telling me. The parachute never opened and I hit the dirt....hard. Isn't it great that God doesn't answer al of our prayers?!

I started looking at blue sky the last few weeks. The snow was beautiful. The leaves are gorgeous. I started listening to music, playing with my co-workers and my kids, laughing at jokes.

WOW! I am still alive and feeling things. The cocoon started opening...very, very slowly. Last night, I stepped out and let my wings dry. I started to fly again...no parachute needed, because the wings were attached. Had been attached all along. Amazing how you can lose track of those things when you are in pain. I realise that I have been given a very important gift...a chance to start over again. What a wonderfult thing to be thankful for.

Catching My Breath

I have become like you

worshipping the closeness of summer's warm dark

Walking through the fields

the night songs lift from unseen birds

breaking the silence under the oaks

I wait for you

catching my breath on first sight

all midnight and moon-brightness

Minds touch

before hands or lips press

Shelter reached

pulling me to you

clutching the ebony

to leave us lovers

hidden from the

harsh realities of daybreak

Weez 1991

The Dance Begins Again

Take me dancing

trailing skirts in the wind and

whirling

twisting my body back

feet tapping

hair whipping

whispering out against my skin

and the deep blue of the night

my hands stretch out

fingers lightly caressing

a distant

tune

gypsy longing

gliding back laughing

into your arms

Weez

11/14/2009

Black Mirror

Staring back at the mirror

ready waiting

doing what I do best

It's hard to say

if this is me

or emotions talking

But there are times

I wonder why

(bother)

the wondering makes me restless

makes me crazy

Lace

ribbons

and those eyes looking back

tired of the madness

of playing

the game

That bed is so hard to sleep in

but when sleep comes

oooooooh! How It Claims You

calls you out

running in the streets

flying down the darkness

to that stranger

A sinsiter

shadow

pressing her face to the glass

Sometimes there

is no face at all

or something

looking

back

from the mirror

coming closer

Finding me looking in

and gazing out

from what is real and

no my

fantasy

Weez

1991