Instincts entered, intertwined. But through time exacting actions brought dissolution, disillusion, divine defied, defiled, declined. Deft but blind. 191023 lf

Instincts entered intertwined

Incredibly Unincredible (poem/ thought)

But now and then, and once for a long while,

the right one pulled me in close,

I’ve made so many mistakes

it’s incredible as many amazing things have happened as they have.

To have been so blessed

as to feel bliss w/ someone

even for a while feels such a gift.

Maybe I was bound to mess it up

with my worry, my intensity, my perfectionism

which make most feel separate from me.

But now and then, and once for a long while,

the right one pulled me in close, tingled my skin

& the heart of my depth and my truth;

brushed up against me,

a comfort beyond words.

But I couldn’t sustain,

even though I wished to,

maybe because I wished to.

I pushed it, and questioned it;

by trying to form it,

killed it

with unnecessary need and

unincredible words.

190918 lf

Lit (poem)

Once lit never truly extinguished

We are not born once

but in a million ways in a million moments

made & chosen, lost & broken

in a brilliant spectrum of

truth & denial,

of light & trial

Sudden or slow

the awakening

shapes & makes us

ever different than the moment before.

 

Death is different

It never feels as complete as birth

The memory holds

It cradles the past in soft palms & fingertips

or in tight clutches

But never again wholly unknown

as the birth of a new connection

 

Neuron to neuron, pupil to pupil

once lit never truly extinguished.

 

190815 Aug. 2019 lgf

Petty (poem)

Time to return

to fully enhabiting myself.

To feel intensely had drifted

We had lost our charm

through petty words & actions

Sometimes we forgot

the daily wonderful,

the gift love is,

silent acceptance.

But the core remains

solid & aware

as it was in the beginning,

is now

and ever shall be

 

 

Woolen Slippers

I donated my old slippers because I didn’t like wearing them. I also thought I had a pair waiting for me at my other house. But when I journeyed there this weekend, found none and felt a faint tingle in the back of my mind, “oh yes, I donated them too because I didn’t love them”.  I am trying to get better about shooing things out of my life that I don’t heartily enjoy. This new habit I’m trying to form has left me slipperless.

Shopping is fairly torturous to me, I avoid rambling around looking for things. I don’t have a lot of belief that anything I will cherish is manufactured in bulk. Thus, when I am disproven it is usually the result of a gift. Fortunately in this instance I stumbled on a work around.

I went looking in my yarn bin for materials to make a crocheted Trotro doll for my niece’s X mas present around the same time I was experiencing slipper loss and just starting to warm up the cabin by woodstove heat.

Years ago I did my student teaching in New Zealand and I still remember the day in the market that I bought some virgin wool. A woman named Nicole made me her confidante. She was in a quandary. She said she had started to raise a few sheep to have wool for her projects. She said she had been naive, she didn’t realize they would multiple so quickly. She promised herself when there were 15 she would find a solution to keep the numbers low. She repromised at 20. She said she now had 30 and couldn’t think of having the lambs slaughtered, but couldn’t kill the old ones either. What should she do, she asked me. Me, a twenty something from America, I had no idea what to say to her. Her wools were soft and varied. Creams to greys and browns and rich charcoal, I could imagine this beautiful flock and the impossibility of trying to decide between them. These are materials I can love. I bought a variety, and way more than this non-consumer could concieve of. When I got it home to my place in NZ n realized my bags were full and I was to depart in a few days I realized I would have to wear it to get it home. I crocheted it into a long sleeveless cloak with a big pocket and traveled home encompassed in the heart of the land of NZ. It stayed that way, for years, I had never intended to keep it in that form, but somehow it remained and went on many more travels with me. Finally a few years ago I set to the task of taking it apart and finally, they are anew

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ever a time

is there ever a time

when everything comes together in your mind

the perfect tug unravels the yarn ball tangled thoughts into a single line

clear vision lays before you

crystalline in acceptance of everything?

deserving of anything?

I get glimmers,

though any attempts to hold on,

only makes the clarity retreat more swiftly

so i must settle, for now, for here, for this

for it is all a gift.

i will try to remember on days long forgotten,

that there was ever a time.

“we”

“We” are special until we think we aren’t.

It still takes two to tango, even if we never learned how.

faults are natural, they occur.

they occur in the streets, in quiet spaces, in blank faces, in every nation.

no one can explain it all, nor understand it all.

but traveling widely it seems the world’s majority people are seekers of good, are good.

may “we” not fall into their hatred

may “we” be bigger than that.