Mothers medicine

I finally ventured out of my cocoon today.

I couldn't stand being inside for one more second.
Having recycled my germs over and over , I'd had enough . . .
I don't care what anybody says , I am going outside !!!!!

It was heaven to feel . . . everything . . .
that clean fresh air sinking in to my lungs,
erasing any remnance of creature's that might still be lurking there.

The smell of the morning dew on the pine and the cedar . . .
I am breathing all of this in ,fully.
This oxygenated medicinal brew .

Savoring the sun on my face , on my body ,
enveloping me in its warm embrace .
Healing me .

I am immersed in the return chorus of the geese ,
filling the silence of the woods ,
orchestrated by the awakened running of the stream.


I feel so much better.

I knew my mother would take care of me.

 Healthy M'Larky

Spring ahead

               Gazing out my window this morning ,
               I find myself longing to be ''out there''.
              In that fresh rising mud , surrounded by the remains
                     of winters black and white.

                 Thank God for the cardinal !

             Now comes forth the color , welcomed by all.
             Crisp newly born greens , sky blue sky , warm yellow sun.
             The return of green mallards beak.

              Soon to arrive , poppy reds , bachelor button blues , lavenders,
                lilac's and purple lupine.

             Let us not forget the rainbow iridescence of dragonfly.

             Oh how I do love Spring . . .
             It beckons me forth and out the door I go .


        Lark

Pneumonia

In this state of pause . . .
my body dissonate with the outside world.

I go within.

With my revived awareness ,
I see the scattered pieces before me , luminious.
Showing me the way .

I gather the pieces , connecting them back into wholeness,
Feeling the texture of myself again
 healing myself to holiness.


Lark

Lark

My buddie

                                     My skiing ,hiking buddie and true friend and I
                                   went to Ontareo to ski  this last weekend.

My friend being a far better skier than I, left the choice of
determining our coarse to me.
I being somewhat of a whimp knew that they would prefer the most difficult and challenging
coarse. I debated this for a moment, then taking a deep breath , choose the most challenging trail.

It was indeed a challenge  . . .  Alot of up and up and up and doooown  . . .
I did well. I was surprised .

Though this had much to do my friends encouragement and training.
The trails were spectacularly beautiful, with mountains all around us.

I fearlessly hugged the hills toward the end of the day ,
poleless and clueless as to what I had been so afraid of before.

What a metaphore for life . . .
When I left Ontareo, I'm not kidding , I was a brand new brave me.

When I skied today ,at one of my usual ski places ,
 always slightly confronted by'' THE HILL '' . . .

I stood a top it and thought , is this actually a hill  ? THE HILL ????
OMG .. . .  IT'S BARLEY AN INCLINE . . .  .
What a metamorphosis !!!!

There was no falling except when I stopped to pee , I slid on the ice, pants down .
And found myself completly tangled in my skis in the middle of the path . Nice !

Finally through my struggles and after what seemed eternity, I got to my feet with a
sprained wrist , only to fall again ,  backwards this time . . .
Bare assed mind you , into the very TALL snow bank,
while hearing the approaching skiers ,
still . . . . with a full bladder and pants literally FULL of snow !!!!!!

I finally managed to pull myself into an ''upright position'', uprighting my pants as well.
feeling quite humiliated , but knowing my secret was safe
with the boys, me  and  . . .you . . .
So I  went on my ''MERRY WAY'' to the end !

Yet another notch ( with snow ). . . .

 In my . . . . End !!!!!

Lark

Blossoming into Wholeness

Life can't bring you the sublime gift it has for you
until you interrupt your pusuit of a mediocre gift . . . .

Labyrinth of thought

I read something a Zen poet wrote ,''  truth is not found in words'' .

Words are formed from thought.

Thought is a labyrinth.                                                                           
On going. . .

It goes around and around
until it finds its momentary destination of truth.
How do  you capture something that is in constant motion ,
 and give words to it?

There is a lot to be said , in no words . .  . Silence can speak volumes.

And yet I know for myself I take great meaning in words.
Perhaps too much so.

They sometimes have a mind of their own,
 and act upon their own accord.

Words can be decieving ,  misunderstood , manipulated , conjegated,
 consecrated , contemplated. . . .

Depending on who is thinking ,speaking ,writing and listening .

How is it that any of us converse , trusting that our thoughts and words are ''truly''
recieved , understood and respected ?

It seems to me that it is the ''spoken word'' that gets ''complicated''.

Maybe if we went back  to primordial language , perhaps the beginning . . .
like grunting . . .
We would have a better sense and meaning of truth.
It might match the behavior best , in certain cases !

That WOULD be sad.

There are so many beautiful and profound words written and spoken that say
what we need /want to say .
It's hard for me to understand not using them.


I myself , may just stop speaking words all together and choose just to write.
It feels the best , it feels thought out, tender and true.

But then again , they are my words and I know them well.
I like to retreat inside , and surround myself with them . . .
where the words of my soul have been tried and i know they are true.




Lark