Blood Moon in Western Sky over South Texas Hill Country April 15, 2014 2AM

Photo:  courtesy of Lin Phelps

fresh water wash me clean

    "Rain Dance" photo used with permission & with gratitude to the artist, Lynne Raspet.

i don't live 

in a neighborhood 

Ms.

he says      insisting

nothing happens 

on my street   

this thick   city

boy 

uniformed

scrubbed

polished

& sent to school

his black hair      stiffened

stands at attention

his head     is hurting 

(i am sure)

from too much

sitting still

     ~

i lean into

his round face 

willing words 

his imagination

—a phantom—

     ~

how many       of you 

have ever made 

mud pies

between     your toes   

a few hands       rise

—confessing 

actual play 

outside

go home      i say
turn on the hose 

make mud

they giggle

     ~

my toes          flex 

stretch their necks  

i am standing 

knee deep 

in rain water

this sky     wiping its eyes 

dim thunder     rumbling   

we     have all 

come outside 

waving—squawking birds 

converging     on a makeshift lake 

water      running to greet us

we wade in

     ~

a few fat drops

hit     shower us wet

—cold    clothes 

cling        barefoot toes

stomp 

splash

 sing in the street

—rain dance

 —glee club 

goose bumps  

     ~ 

i squat      squish mud 

between my toes 

shovel up a clump 

—oozing earth

fling it 

at the first    (unsuspecting)

one of us

a burst of laughter

—splat—

a flinched face

—splat—

an arched back

i got you!   

     ~

we are merciless 

     warriors      taking aim 

duck 

dive 

slip 

slide

run 

from each other 

like we     might really

die

in seconds 

      an hour passes 

      ~  

my breath 

comes fast

i am full 

of fun 

& covered 

in baking clay

     ~

lying down 

on long      green 

grass      in the gutter 

bent           under

this sudden stream

    fresh water 

—wash       me clean

Being Present with guest artists and commentary

"Three Tongues," Suzanne Copleston.

Image used with gratitude & permission of the artist, copyright Suzanne Copleson, 2013.  All rights reserved. Please visit Ms. Copleston's website here to view more of her beautiful work.


Present Love

Let love come unbidden
  in each moment's unfolding,
  like petals that open up around our feet
  the instant we step upon the ground.

Let us meet others in the present--
  fresh,
         uncluttered--
  our hearts and minds reflecting
  Love's heart and mind.

Let us not diminish into
  small views and perceptions,
  but step into our fullness,
  shaking off the dust of fear,
  separation, and outcome.

We awake in present love.

Desire only to reside there,
  buoyed by awakened sisters and brothers,
  a circle of love that vibrates,
  rippling outward, in a

      constant now.



Guest Poet, Tina Karagulian from her collection Under the Papaya Tree, Black Rose Press, 2013.  "Present Love" used by permission of the poet.  All rights reserved.


Centering Prayer is one way of "waking in present love."  This method, taught by Fr. Thomas Keating, uses a centering word or phrase one chooses for the practice to bring the mind back to the present  and to the practice of contemplation.  I began to incorporate this method into my spiritual practice decades ago after reading Fr. Keating's book, Open Mind Open Heart.

Microcosmic focus on beauty is another way of being present and awake, as in this photograph.  The artist, Georgia O'Keefe is said to have stated (paraphrased) that no one sees a flower, really.  

In her poem, Ms. Karagulian urges us to "let love come unbidden."  This line is most interesting to me as I have spent a good amount of energy throughout my life calling love, seeking love, practicing unloving behavior and calling it love.  

In other words, being consumed by what is not Love, because as this poet suggests, Great Love comes unbidden.  It simply is.  

And it is fully present to us by grace when we awake.


D. Ellis Phelps

beside this road

vultures 
come    and go

what follows

swarm
&      stench

hollow 

cage

crouching

beside this road

later      the hogs
will come     & take

these     remains 

Road Crew: four working; 25 watching

How many vultures does it take to keep the byways cleaned of carcass?  I count twenty-nine here, the most, by the way, I've ever seen concentrated on one roadkill in my neighborhood.  Must be slim-pickings this fall.

One Shamanic practitioner I know calls them the Peace Eagles, indicating their medicine.  In the Hill Country, we call them the Road Crew.  

I can just see them wearing their little florescent vests with the reflective strip and yellow hard hats.  The three closest to the carcass work to clear the mess with shovels.  The fourth one, further from the carcass, but still nearer than the others, leans on his broom.  The ones nearer the fence and on the ground have just finished their shift of shoveling and are headed to the ice house for beer.  

The ones sitting on the fence are supervisors.  They graduated from A&M. :)

what I learned today

that, given fresh rain and a full moon, a lily pad will grow ten to twelve inches in one day (of course, this is a barrel cactus bloom and not a lily)