This life, this gift from Love to every soul, is to be seized at each day’s end with two strong hands Wrung for its experience until the mud and tears and blood and joy have run and splashed and dripped their last in you Rinsed in gratitude wrung again to dampness until your hands ache from the grip and twist. Let those hands rest; Then, holding tight the hem with one releasing snap open it clean and clear to dry in starlight and in dreams

Part 1 of 2: the fork to the path of Shamanism — Imagine yourself standing at a fork in the road of life. Ahead are the beginnings of two spiritual pathways that lead up a mountain, to a top not visible from where you stand. One path goes to the right, the other to the left. …

A talking blues song about yearning for a different life. — (I wrote this song a few years ago, expressing what a lot of us feel at some point in our lives. The notations at the ends of the lines and the choruses are for guitar. My musical skills are very limited. …

Brightness to the Dark Night and Back: a spiritual journey — I came to my path not through academic study but through my own reading, listening, and personal experience. I am deeply grateful for the contributions of others, those on whose shoulders I stand, that enable me to have an appreciation for the importance, validity, and context of what I’ve seen…

Three ideas that are sometimes difficult for me. — Now and then I experience a pure and beautiful form of courage. That’s when I post stories like the one titled, ”I have a son” (you can read that story here). Much of the time, though, I don’t feel courageous at all. I allow my fear of rejection, ridicule, or…

… and it echoes through the rest of your life — Conception, gestation, and birth; you’ve been there, or you wouldn’t be reading this. You wouldn’t exist. Every human goes through these events, but our experience of them is uniquely our own. The most terrifying moment of life for a fetus is the first hard contraction of labor. As the time…

Poems have been sprinkled Everywhere. Some catch the sun in drops of rain, or bits of glass or tin. Some on the ground make Shapes or Tracks; I bend my head to read the story they tell. Others, hues and shades that fill my eyes. Sometimes they move, and I dance with them. Grander verses compass Sky and earth with flawless harmony. Sometimes when I walk outside I’m tripped up by all these poems and forget where I’m going.

This may be my shortest post ever Seasons flow in symphony lives too if we will see them so This may not be evident as we are both instrumental and self-blinded in the music that we make and do not hear. April 1 2023

Applying unconditional love. — You have within you a beautiful soul. The essence of that soul is love. I invite you to have an experience of the unconditional love of souls for one another and all of Creation. …