Digging Through the Trash Heap on My Computer

As I’m looking for something I wrote a few years ago that is a nice fit for my blog, I am coming across all this old stuff I’d forgotten about. Be it “good” or be it “bad” here’s a poem I wrote for a class I took at CSL-KC a couple of years ago. Sharing it because I am fascinated with how clearly my life has themes. Who knew I was fixated on these very same things for years. ‘Bout time I started doing something with it all. (Even the whole nature theme. Totally weird)

In the Heart of God

I am receptacle and seed,
Sunshine and rain,
The gentle hand that loosens the earth
Around my roots,
The soft firm voice that whispers
“Grow little child, grow strong, grow free.”

I look into the eyes of Martin Luther King, Jr,
into the eyes of the slave owner,
into the eyes of Gandhi,
into the eyes of the one who killed a thousand sons
into the eyes of Jesus
into the eyes of every woman who never had a name
and see my own hopes and dreams
calling me out of the nightmare clutter of
“You are nothing. You never will be.”

I am the bird in flight,
powerful wings turning air into path,
the currents of spirit calling each beat.
I tuck the fears of generations under warm quilts
created by gnarled and loving hand,
sing lullabies to comfort,
lay them to rest.

I take the hand of every father,
the hand of every grandmother
who ever believed that they were nothing more
until all they had to give was nothing more
and I turn my face to the sun and begin to walk
singing a new song
with a voice spun from the chords of multi-hued angels
who look a lot like me.

The Body Knows What the Mind Wants to Believe

I wrote the piece below for the Science of Mind Magazine’s “Your Space Community” a couple of years ago (they printed it!). The theme was “Awakening Consciousness.” Crazy how your work doesn’t let you go just because you have not yet fully awakened your consciousness.

I have been on the path to wake up to the truth about me for a long time. I have delved into the knowing my body has held for me, the painful and untrue things I took on about me from people who could give me nothing better since it’s what they’d gotten. Slogging through the muck to come to what my body refused to let go of—that I am a beautiful, joyful, loving gift to the world.

I had long given up on finding a god I could let in close again when I ended up at CSL-KC with a friend. I loved the service, but I wasn’t about to get suckered into believing in some god that would require I give up one wit of who I was. At the same time, I was smitten, so I kept coming back. And I kept watching for anything that would deny my hard-won acceptance of myself. I demoted God to little g so I could begin to reclaim
“God” the word from all I’d been taught It was. (My little joke with G-god). And in time I finally heard it. I finally let it in: that God resides in me, as me. And all the jokes I’d made in self defense and blasphemous poke back at a religion that said I wasn’t enough, that I needed saving, I now knew to be the truth I had refused to let go of deep down inside me. I am sacred. Right in the middle of all my beautiful, exasperating, irresistible humanness.

Submitted 8/27/2011