L is a seat to rest upon
O is omega, origin, oh! so complete
V is valuable, verified, voluptuous
E is the gate we keep closed in protection
Love is the sum of all these things
No one letter completes it alone
Poetry
Day 22 ~ What the Sufi Said
It is worse to be wounded by words than a sword
If the sword be not driven too deep.
But words you will keep, tormenting your heart.
The more so if they be true.
The truth and the lies dwell on the same tongue
but the mouth kept closed will gather no flies.
The heart of a fool is in his mouth;
the mouth of a wise man is in his heart.
In every false step there is something good
A lesson is there to be earned,
For he who wants honey must bear the bees stings
Accepting with grace, remembering what he has learned.
Nobody has ever lived in the way he would wish.
Many are the roads that don’t lead to the heart.
To live a good life you must love what you find,
Good works are the best place to start.
Day 21 ~ Myfanwy
Pardon me, dictate to me,
O Myfanwy
I submit to your tyranny,
for why did i neglect you?
Pale maiden of the wayside
Fie now, regard me as a fool
Pale man that I am, all remiss
Fie now, did you not see it all?
Parted, we knew then. O Myfanwy,
I had good need to be so hard.
I cherish all of it, O Myfanwy.
I thank you well you searched so far.
Why did I not avoid them
and keep you always near me?
I am chased by other laws, Myfanwy
To gallows, giddy, final, high
Day 20 ~ After Separation
there is a poem on my wall
hand written thirty years ago
it isn’t faded, no not yet
everything you ever gave me
was more precious than you knew
I should have told you
but these words you wrote ring true
defining now the way we should have been
back then
perhaps the way we were
I was young
too insecure
it was all beyond me
the things we make
so often come too late
Moonlit Dream
woods, birds, horses,
poetry and peace,
tribal spirit runs across the plains,
the sea is waiting,
big open spaces
plains for the galloping
fields of corn invite me
rest under a tree
this brought a tear to my eye
come with me, set me free
Day 19 ~ Powerful Little Bear (Zuni fetish figure)
I smell wood fires, burning crackle.
I see hawks, thunder, thunder.
Dancing feet, dust goes flying.
Down the valley, by the river,
Stone black bear, line of turquoise,
Running with a powerful sureness
Through his head, past listening ear,
To the heart, thumping, thumping.
On his back he carries tokens
To the clouds high up above
Spinning, spinning, Great Spirit spinning
Bringing power, protection, love,
To the cave beside the water
Flowing slow, flowing rapid
Hidden in the dark of evening,
Bear rolls over, sleeps again.
Bear awakes ev’ry morning
But at night he finds the stars,
Becomes a shadow, dark, foreboding,
Against the slowly scrolling sky,
His arms around us strong and wide.
You cannot hide, but
Don’t be scared, little child.
His claws are furled and hidden, smooth.
Wishing you no harm, my small one,
He will hold you once again
In his deep dark ancient arms.
Day 18 ~ Saturday Sun
Saturday Sun shines through the window
onto my chair, negating all shadow,
Taking the shade.
I drink morning coffee blinded by dazzle
Squinting my eyes against this new day.
Awoken too early from short restless sleep
And no particular time I need keep,
No place to go, no schedule pressing,
I turn on the news. Death figures rising.
Day 17 ~ My Grandad Had a Dibber
My Grandad had a dibber
Well worn, smooth and brown.
It fitted to the hand,
Nestled in my palm,
As I probed the ground.
He sent me on before him
Making well spaced holes
In rich and loamy earth,
While he followed slowly after,
Down on bended knees
Planting single seeds.
We would watch for weeks
And care for them with water
And then the bean would come
Growing up the frames,
Made from sticks re-used.
The small red flowers shone,
Pixie caps on twisting vines,
Row on row resplendent
In long hot summer suns.
Day 16 ~ Pursuing Aphrodite
Oh thou Chalice of Heaven, give me thy hand.
Thy feet are the petals of roses, as silent as swans they glide.
The music of angels plays with the sway of thy rounded hips
Thy navel is filled with honey, where thy belly dips.
Honeyed breath escapes from your parted lips.
Thy womb is a pleasant pasture, fertile and flowing with nectar,
I come as a humble servant begging to enter thy land.
I have journeyed many a mile. Thou art a work divine.
Do not make denial of he who worships thine every whim,
He who prays for the jewels of thine eyes to turn and shine upon him,
And the burning bow of your smile to bless him with one superior smirk.
Alexa and the Farmer
excellent piece of work – love it
A farmer was gifted Alexa.
He puzzled and he frowned.
“So, you can tell me the weather hey?”
“Yes” replied Alexa, so he took the thing around.
.
He placed it on the fence.
“It´s going to rain tomorrow” Alexa beeped.
“Of course it is” the farmer laughed
“The cows are moving to under the trees!”
.
The night fell soon enough,
“It will be frosty in the morning” Alexa piped.
“Well it´s not rocket science…
the moon is clear and shining bright!”
.
Alexa chimed upon waking
“It´s going to pour today, in a few hours”.
The farmer looked out his window
“Aye the petals are closed on those flowers”
.
The next day Alexa shouted
“It´s going to be dry and fine!”
The farmer had placed it further away.
Laughing “Says the open cones on this pine!”
.
Alexa screamed in desperation
“There will be freak snow soon!”
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The Dreaming Path 