Image re-posted from Enchanted Nature Facebook page.
Breaking chains that bind
Waiting on a free man’s sun
Faith in adventure
Breaking Free: Haiku IV
Tag Archives: possibility
Let Them Run
Image re-posted from Enchanted Nature’s Facebook page
I want freedom. Freedom from a tongue bound by convention. Freedom of thought that need not be harnessed back like horses wild. Let them run, I say. I want freedom of time that has no tick. No deadline. It belongs only to me. I am the boss who’s burning that midnight oil for inventions that build a life. My life. I want freedom of style as I slip on skinny jeans, GoGo boots and too much eyeliner. I want freedom of money, mullah, bank, green dogs braying with a jingling, jangling pick me up off my sad ass, hard times, hard luck self. I want freedom of space. Open plaines and wind swept deserts. Where I can walk a mile or ten in my crusty, beat up hikers and no one holds my line to any destination I desire. I want freedom of heart. Open it up wide as a storm gray clam glistening with sea water and pearls, while it still holds the grit I earned honestly. I want the freedom to love you. Love you as I take you into my skin, bury you deep in my belly and warm you up like mama’s stew. I want the freedom to open myself to possibilities and disaster. Good times and crazy adventure. I want freedom that only a bird knows. Alone, in a winter wood, with nothing but silence and every branch I own.
Work in progress from The Writing Church Writer’s group hosted by Marj Hahne, Boulder, CO. Inspired by the poem “What Do Women Want” by Kim Addonizio
Sustenance
Photo montage by Noelle
“Men can starve from a lack of self-realization as much as they can from a lack of bread.” -Richard Wright
Pathways: A Little Gem
Waterways: photo collage, by Noelle
“Any path is only a path, and there is no affront, to oneself or to others, in dropping it if that is what your heart tells you.” -Carlos Castenada
Alphabet Soup
Hidden River: Photography by Noelle
After their all gone, I find I’m still here
Bound to earth a regular oak in the field
Captured in this moment a
Dog with her bone
Even the clock ticks slower than a
Frost’s melt
Goaded by the weight of
Hampered grief in my chest
I stand in the quiet, deciding?
Jump back in or dally
Kicking the cat
Love is at the center of all this, even as
Misery runs me down in
Narrow alleys that smell of
Old fish and over sweet
Poppies
Quit your begging at
Rama’s door, I say to the mirror
Salvation is in your
Tight belly – hungry for
Unity a
Volcanic sound blasting
With the power of
Excalibur
You are grace and beauty at the
Zenith of a transformation you command
This Abecedarian was created in the Front Range Writer’s Room hosted by Marj Hahne
Exiting
Lone Leaf Beached: photography by Noelle
It felt good as done at the start. Bound, lost, no exit. Pressure to make a diamond lays on my mind. After all these years have I nothing? No smooth finish, but a stumbling out the door. Denial isn’t a river in Cairo, the old joke trails, but it is an immense watercourse in my mind. With Titan effort I withdraw and hibernate the winter. At first waiting for Godot. Then like driftwood, I surface upon a lone beach. No place to go. No direction suggests itself and after a bit, I can no longer sit. Crying. No warmth or comfort. I walk. Crying. Then walk with the most outrageous and worrisome yelling, before walking with no sound at all. First aimlessly, then with a longer stride. More determined, yet aware of what floats by me. Breath in, breath out. I no longer appear to be in any hurry. Anticipation taps at my heart. Single and free, alone on the beach. The expanse a welcome blanket and the endless sea it’s own serenade of the lover yet to come.
Inspired by The New York Times crossword puzzle: 3/11/2012. An exercise in creativity from Front Range Writers Room hosted by Marj Hahne
Untethered Boat
Free Bing stock photos
Today, I send into your meditation an untethered boat. It drifts in the early morning on a slow moving river, just off shore of a small dock. Bits of fog come and go and the sun is not quite up yet. You see glimpses of the opposite shore with trees and brush, but it fades in the mist as quickly. The oars rest in their locks at your feet. Your inclination is to pick them up and row. Row out onto the river and see where it goes or row back to shore and the dock. Three beliefs arise with this plan. The first, is to validate the belief that you must “do” something to get “somewhere”. The second is to affirm the belief that “effort” is also required to reach some destination. It may seem as if “doing” and “effort” are the same thing, but they aren’t actually. Doing means activity and busyness that may or may not take effort or yield any meaningful results. Effort means work, exertion, and definitely implies hoped for results.
What if you didn’t pick up the oars? If you simply let the boat drift in the morning mist? This brings us to the third belief. Can you believe in the river? Trust in its swiftness? Trust that it is going in a direction you wish to go? Trust that the scenic route, will, in fact, deliver the scenes you wish to see? Today, ponder what would happen if you let go of the doing, the effort, and the need to know where it’s all going. What would happen if you just let it all go and drifted on this slow moving river, in an early morning mist, with no idea where you are going at all?
Kite Flyers
Stained glass at Living Arts Center Denver: photography by Noelle
How the mundane mimics the divine….
The little boy dances around his father in the late afternoon sun
The kite rises in the strong wind and he squeals with delight
Then, it pitches and slams into the ground
All movement stops in his little body
Arms drop to his side
Face crestfallen
He turns to his father who reassures
It’s okay
Just a downed kite
It will fly again
Pick it up and toss it into the wind
It will fly
So he does
And it sores, tail whipping like a dragon
The currents of the Universe are strong
Pick up your kite and throw it back into the wind
It will fly
It will sore
It’s tail will whip the sky like a dragon
Passion
Re-posted from Enchanted Nature’s FB page
There are two states of living. One is alive, alert, curious, inquisitive, hungry, impassioned, in love and with the readiness of a child for the next possible moment to play. The other is to let go little by little all of the above, until you find your senses and your extraordinary mind dulled to the point of a plastic knife cutting a two-day old bagel.
Today I am everything I have ever been and in this day I have more than a million chances to discover someone in me I have never met. This is Wonderland and it was all made for me, as it was made for all of us. This is our adventure. Wake up everyone. It’s time to go out into the world and play.
Meditation Travelogue 
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