Monthly Archives: June 2015

“And”

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Put your thumb over the moon

Block out the glow, for just a moment
This could be the night
All the stars arrive, for you

Their infinite wisdom shining down on our crazy, beautiful existence

Put your thumb over the sun

Block out its radiating heat, for just a moment
This could be the day
All the wildflowers bloom, for you

Our horizons meet against the blue mirage of the mountains, circling each other’s desire for truth. A truth we already know and understand.  A need to reach it, to grasp it, allowing it to carry us into the darkest of nights, as Mars and Venus hold court over their kingdom below.

Block out the infinite constants that we know….
The sun, the moon, the stars and the wildflowers

Put your hands up to the evolving sky, graced with God beams and motionless clouds.

Rainbows of graphic colors take shape against the desolate mountains, the lowest, hottest, starkest place has something to say….quiet your thoughts and listen.

A simple word, taken for granted….And

And
Is it the most meaningful word?
And
A comforting sound in the silence of the desert
And
It will all come together
And
Take this road, it’s stunning
And
Be strong and forthcoming
And
You have been here before, remember?
And
Hope rises up to stare us in the eyes
And
Leads us to a new chapter
And
Believe, always believe

Love and Light, M

 

 

The Education of the Ancient Pines

Written about the eve of April 27, 2013, Ancient Bristlecone Pines, White Mountains, California

White lights disguised as head lamps criss-cross the ancient trees. Random souls placed at the top of the world, discovering their passions and their fates, together.

Asked to pray for peace and for each other, we did.  With cameras and equipment under our arms and wrapped around our bodies, we carried out our visions into the wild, wise, wind blown trees.   At the crest of the White Mountains, 11,188 feet of elevation, we touched the heavens if only by an inch.  Gathering around for one last lecture, he sent us off alone.

“This is a sacred special place.  Most people will never walk these trails or see these trees with their own eyes.  You are special and blessed to be among the worlds oldest livings things.  Feel their energy and let it flow into your creativity,” he said.

Finding my place far from the other students, I sat and watched. My camera still in my bag, I did not feel the need to hurry.  Taking in the majesty before me, wondering about the wisdom of the ancient pines, wondering if I asked them a question, would they answer?  Asking them to educate me on things I did not understand, I asked.  I begged and pleaded for answers.  They assured me that it was not my camera that brought me here.  They shared with me that the new leg of my journey was beginning, at that moment, on that very special day.   It was a feeling that my purpose in this life was taking on a new shape.  My camera was only a distraction that led me to my home.  It was opening the lens behind my eyes to a new self I needed to discover.

The dusty road took me towards a twisted grove of pines, each managing to barely touch each others branches.  I imagined the tremendous forces of wind that shaped and sealed each piece of wooden art. Their mangled beautiful limbs carried a multitude of my thoughts north to an unknown place.  One I dreamed about on rainy days.  Was I not worth the answers?  Am I not good enough to know the truth?  What the hell just happened? How did I end up here, alone?

Slowly, opening up and surrendering to my environment, the art poured out of my camera.  Amazed at what I was creating, looking at the live view, relieved that I could capture with clarity what I could see 20 feet in front of me, yet hundreds of miles away at the same time.

Some time later that evening, perhaps at the moment I was most awake within myself, my cell phone found a connection and activated.  This tiny transformer to the outside world began to sing like crazy.  Texts from my guides came flooding in.  Photos of my children came through to me.  A touching hello from a place I did not know.  Signals or signs from above that my loved ones cared about my well-being.  Tears of joy and sadness flooded out of my body.  Sobs of desperation, of wanting to see and hold these precious beings broke over my being.
I just wanted to hold them all.

Reflecting back on that night, I understand now that my guides were starting new legs of their journeys, with me, along for their latest ride.   On that night, with every star in the sky alive and shining brilliantly against mine, we held hands transparently across the miles, ready to begin the next chapters of our lives.

Some are still here, some are gone, some are reaching me from a place I cannot see…. yet.

Love and Light, M

“Lifers”

“People come into our lives for a reason, a season or a lifetime”

I used to have this quote on my desk at work. At the time, I am not sure if I knew exactly what it meant. Obviously, something about it resonated with me and made me think. Now I understand more clearly, but I’m not sure I really like that quote anymore. It kind of makes me cringe and wonder, do all people have to be catagorized in that manner? Do I have to look at everyone I have ever met and gotten to know with one of those labels? In my world, I want everyone to be “lifers.” If I meet you and we have a connection, I consider you to be lifer. However, upon further reflection of this saying, its right to begin to thank those reasons, seasons and lifers. It’s a funny thing, a lot of these people cross-over the label. Yes, some reasons have come and gone. Yes, some seasons, were just that, around in spring or summer, winter or fall. Unfortunately, yes, some lifers have fallen off the lifetime radar. At what point is someone considered a “lifer” though? It’s a sad realization, but we have to make the leap of faith that if they have fallen from our sides, it’s because their own journey is taking them to meet their own reasons, seasons and lifetime people.

I won’t place a label or name the people I want to thank. In my mind, they are my loved ones, no matter how long ago or how recent the person has touched my life…. thank you. In a very random order, hopefully you will know who you are….

To the one who gave me a chance to work a full-time job while attending college
To the one who taught me how to drive a stick-shift
To the one who taught me how to be committed to an important cause
To the one who can tell me like it is, with no apologies
To the one who renewed my faith
To the ones who will listen
To the one who made me laugh in the middle of the extreme chaos while renovating the house

To the ones who show me patience and strength
To the ones who showed up to help when my family was moving to Grandview
To the ones who make me smile, even when I don’t want to
To the one who signed up my kids for baseball and paid for it without my knowledge
To the ones who brought donuts and bagels to the house the morning after our home was broken into

To the one who taught me to appreciate the sunrise and sunset
To the one who helped me unpack Jake’s clothes in his new bedroom
To the one who can ride in a car with me, no destination in mind
To the ones who rode a bus to Florida and back, laughing all the way
To the ones who taught me how to tie my shoes and ride a bike
To the ones who taught me how to play scrabble
To the one who can dance and sing all night with me, to really bad 80’s music
To the ones who taught me how to work hard
To the ones who give me butterfly kisses
To the one who taught me how to set a beautiful dinner table
To the one who taught me how to use my tripod
To the ones who taught me that persistence matters
To the ones who inspire my art and creativity
To the one who taught me how to do the perfect lunge
To the one who taught me how to wrap a simple package and helped me study for french
To the one who taught me how to make the perfect meatloaf
To the ones who always takes my calls
To the one who has showed me that you can change your path
To the one who taught me how to use a map
To the one who showed me the mountains for the first time
To the one who trusted me enough to allow me to keep my job when I moved to Chicago
To the one who can sit with me, saying nothing at all
To the one who comforted me as cried all night
To the ones who are my partners in crime
To the one who gave Repax a chance, and took it to a whole new level
To the ones who would rather read a book than watch tv
To the ones who delivered my precious children
To the ones who saved my sick child from meningitis
To the ones who help me raise my children
To the one who shares great books and music with me
To the ones who are a good solid example for me
To the ones who love me, unconditionally, thank you

Love and Light, M

For G

For G… miss you….6.12.15
Hold my candle
As I read the words that bleed out from my heart
About a rescue without hesitation
An angel’s army arriving as I was drowning
Each one lights the other
Flickering faces basking in the dusky anniversary air
As I stood amongst the others
She placed her arms around my waist and held on
Like she always did… She held on to me…to all of us
I held her that day and we agreed she would stay
We agreed
But everyone’s journey is their own
Who am I to ask, stay?
Now, in the midst of remembering
Grateful to have been carried when I could not stand
Grateful to know a true angel
One only read about in fairy tales or legends of heroines
Each one lights the other
Remember the transfer of light
From a candle, from one heart to another heart
From her hand to mine

Love and light, M

“June”

It’s June, once more.  Summer solstice is approaching.  The day to declare the summer season is coming.  Does love arrive with summer?  Which season does love nestle into and blossom?

Where does love originate and where does it live? Is June love?

Is it locked up, tried and true, safe and warm?

Is it free and wild, mysterious and magical, crazy beautiful?

Did it come from above, delivered on the sun beams backlit against a sky so vast, our imaginations cannot grasp it?  The sky that reaches back to where we came from and moves forward to where we want to go.  The purple clouds emerge from antiquity to remind us that we are small, yet mighty, our hands hold our gifts and are used to spread messages to passengers on the train to understanding.

Listen

A miraculous song of divine intervention is playing as June rushes in.  Fields of wildflowers fill in the sparseness of the meadow, under the protection of the master, a symposium of colors happily greet the dawn.

It’s illogical, irrational, unreasonable.  Love. But it truly exists.

It comes from above, below and within.  If science could bottle the energy love creates….if science could duplicate the feeling…. if science could…. Would it be the same?  Would you buy love that science creates and take the drug?  Is it unreasonable to expect the wildflowers to arrive every summer?  Yet they do, without fail. They arrive. Can science really explain the magic of the summer season?  Is love a season?

Does the authenticity of love make sense?  Are the wildflowers I hold in my hand and give to you magical?  Can you bottle the feeling you get when I give the wildflowers to you, with forgiveness and purity in my heart?  I listen to the song they sing and every summer my heart is glad.  Love is delivered from below, above and within when I give the flowers to you. At that moment, in that instant, bottle THAT!  Yes, that’s the moment where love originates.  That is where love lives.  When I give something to you, free, unquestionably beautiful.  The something could be anything.  If I give it from my heart, it’s love.

That is where loves lives.  In that instant, when I hand you the singing wildflowers, in the meadow, with the master watching, beside the trees of summer.

Love and Light, M

“Eleven”

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“Eleven” appears in the June 2015 issue of 614 Magazine, Columbus, Ohio

Behind the wonder of it all

Lies a place only we can see
Chosen ones who must suffer
Before opening up to our gifts

Our fate lies in numbers in a velveteen hat

A red wine glass sits as the fruit flys gather
Skimming the top
We discuss a multitude of thoughts
Pick a number out of the hat, He asks

My chosen number….11
A known variable of the Angels
It’s everywhere, on me, in my heart
Wonders of the number drive my days and actions

A child at the time I chose
Knowing that along with 11, would come deep pain in my back
As the wings broke through, gradually, methodically, gracefully

Without 11’s, hope and faith would be buried
beneath sorrow and pain
Spring would not have a chance
Winter would live in all hearts and souls
He gives me a reason to keep my number, but tells me
a shift will come without warning

One day, another velveteen hat will appear
Millions of choices, pick another number to change your fate
Wonder comes back, she tells me to wait
Your number is who you are

You have suffered, inside your head, the voices will stay
You have sacrificed, outside your body
your loved ones, they need you
In another world, they see your humility and humanity
Don’t give up 11…….. don’t give up 11

Stay in the wonder of it all
Imagine a world without the 11’s
Darkness would swallow us whole
As an 11, we suck up the darkness and hide it in our bodies

As our backs break
As our minds hear thoughts that cannot be spoken
Wonder allows my hope and faith to continue
Telling me to keep my number, 11, safe

Love and Light, M

“Untitled 2”

 

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There is no physical evidence

No trace……

Only invisible clues
That they were here

But it was real
It’s printed on the fragile paper covering of our hearts
Precious moments
It transports us back to another time

We smile when we see a photo of their beautiful face
We laugh when we recall the sound of their voice
Tears of pure joy when we recreate the love they gave to us

From wherever they are….across the bright blue forever

I hope they smile and laugh
I hope they remember
I hope they still feel the love we share

The clues are in the sparkle in our eyes
The evidence in the words that we speak
A trace of love on our skin

It is with us…. always

When we touch, we can feel their energy
A clue in the way we reach out to others
Untouchable evidence, when we see with our nostalgic hearts

There is nothing left of them, but the blissful thought, radiating from us
If we are asked to remember, we will
As we do, reach into the photographic frame in our minds, and see

Love and Light, M