Tuesday, November 17, 2015

Yellow StarThistle...part II

Yet, as she towered over me...smirking, all I could say was,

"But he didn't break my heart.   He Marked it.   He changed it.  He reminded me of how it feels to be loved".
She immediately diminished in size by a third.
Eye to eye- facing what was really a demon of sorts which I had left to grow and mature on the manure of regret and sorrow in the fields of my own soul- I realized I could manage this weed.

I asked her, "Does anyone walk away from an encounter with the divine and remain unchanged?"
She shuddered.   I asked, "What is the first thing the divine always says?  FEAR NOT!".
Why?   Because they are to wonderful, to profound, to glorious for us to understand without collapsing with fear."

The weed began to turn brown and shrivel.

By now- I am towering over her...shouting "How dare you try to corrupt something made only from love?   How dare I allow you to take root and suffocate the flowers in my garden heart?!  How dare you tarnish my memories of him with your slander and lies?!!!"

She could barely whisper, "What about your pain?  What about your loss?  What about the void he left in your life?"

"GRIEF!"  I shouted, "Is a LOVE word!"  

With a shudder and a tiny whimper the prickly monster fully wilted and collapsed.

Weeds are interesting creatures.   Their roots can go deep and lie dormant for a very long time.  Roots have to be pulled up and burned.   Even part of one left behind can cause problems in the future.   Keeping a vigilant eye on the garden is necessary even when it appears there is nothing untoward lurking in the ground.  


That beautiful man peeks in on me every now and again.  His love is real and so is his beauty.  When I see him or hear him he still makes my heart flutter.   I am drawn to him like a moth to a flame, except this flame will not burn me...it simply bathes me in light and reflects his goodness and love.

Yes, my heart was marked, and he is not capable of breaking it.
His graceful ways and thoughtful words, in the midst of his own burdens and struggles, are fresh air and sunshine to my heart.  
To paraphrase an old movie, "He makes me want to be a better woman".  

Which is precisely what one would expect in an encounter with the divine.


David...by Michelangelo

Wednesday, October 21, 2015

Yellow StarThistle

He was simply the most beautiful creature I had ever heard or seen in my life. I can compare him to none I have met before or since.
His voice reached the interior of my soul first. It was perfect. No accent, no nasal quality, but pure, manly deep but not overly so, like a perfect merlot- full, mellow, with notes of music and romance. The mere sound of his voice wrapped and filled me with comfort and bliss.
His skin was flawless, ringlets behaved in his precisely cut hairstyle, his Italian nose was both classic and perfection, teeth straight and bright, a smile so warm and welcoming one couldn’t help but feel taken in by it. The dimple I discovered when he smiled and the closely trimmed beard which was beginning to turn white made me come completely undone. He was absolutely divine.
Acutely aware of his infectious charm he perched behind a casual façade- as if to dim some of his own brilliance.  His self confidence was mesmerising. 
He carried it within him the way a mother carries a new babe in the womb- surely and deeply. His glow was undeniable.
He didn’t walk into a room like other people do, he was fluid, I would almost say he glided. There was nothing ungainly about his steps or his movements. Everything he did, from opening the car door, to washing a dish, to cooking a turkey was done in such a way I would have sworn it had been rehearsed. Never once did I see him flustered or shaken. Even in dealing with a hysterical woman, he was calm and unruffled. He was ever as tranquil and beautiful as a still lake at sunrise.
I loved him urgently, swiftly, and completely, though I was warned, “That man will break your heart.” I paid no heed, but a minuscule seed of worry was sown into my inner core and quickly forgotten. A seed, much like a weed, which began to take deep roots before I ever noticed its tiny shoots on the surface of my garden heart.  That weed much like kudzu, was impossible and fruit less.
He made love to me like I was the only woman in existence. I felt I was his angel, yet knowing full well I am much closer to the type described as Hobbit folk. The passion, the laughter, the shared stories and the way we reveled in each other was sublime. Our time together was too short. One of us was always having to leave, and the distance between us was bothersome and painful to me, but he took it all in stride. I took his self-confidence to mean he was sure of us, of our connection. Our interactions were not casual...though there were languid moments of delight, and sparkling ones of laughter.
His gifts were utterly unique, thoughtful, and timely. A jar with favorite chocolates and hand written love notes for my birthday.  Flowers for my arrival- pink, my favorite color rose. Music filled his house. Beloved tunes of his previous life, and new ones picked out for me. Dancing for no reason-except to dance and hold the person you love closely. Sunsets and moonlight and shooting stars were ours, and nothing was impossible when I was with him. No harm would come to me while in his embrace.
And then…
In one fell swoop I lost him. My divine being withdrew his wings and pulled away swiftly…almost as swiftly as I fell in love with him. A responsibility as big as keeping the moon in orbit fell upon him; and while fearless in his new role, he was unable to hold on to me. With grace, yet determination, he cut the tie he’d bound me with- never suspecting he’d also severed the cords of my heart.
I bled profusely. I wept like a little lost child in the middle of dirty Calcutta. I crumpled and fell to the ground like a used Kleenex, and my world was filled with searing pain. I searched my heart. Was there no way I could assist? No use for me in his new role? Couldn’t I remain attached as a cheerleader, or a bringer of dinner or flowers?
As I looked inwards- there it was, the Weed. 
It was so big and thorny and overgrown there was room for little else. It grew with rapid speed and complete destruction without the divine to keep it in check. It stood tall and stared back at me when I faced it. Internally she towered over me. She was as frightening as my lover had been beautiful. 
Without eyes and tilting her yellow head somehow she smirked at me.
Her words echoed in my gut, “That man will break your heart”.

Saturday, September 26, 2015

Dante's Inferno- LOVE

Love is more unitive than knowledge in seeking the THING, not the THINGS reason; :Love is bent on finding a real union- though this can only be constituted by knowledge.

Love wants to find the thing that is tactile.  Love wants what it can put it's heart, and hands, and lips on.  It wants warm flesh, and a knowing smile, and soft sheets, passion, and laughter when all is said and done.

According to Dante-
The effects of love are enumerated as "such":
*  Reciprocal abiding - together by choice
* Mutua Inhaesio-  mutual indwelling
* Of lover and beloved together
* a transplant- "out of the self into the other"
* ardent cherishing of each other- with zeal  (was Dante a woman or what?)
* a melting- liquefaction- so that the heart is unfrozen and open to be entered
*  a longing in absence
* heat in pursuit- fervor
*  AND enjoyment in presence..fruitito

Then...what of fear?
And honestly, this is where I have fallen short...fallen short of fear because there was never any need- and yet, now there is.

"Without the discipline of service and obedience, fear remains formal and does not spread over the whole known reality of existence."

As a kid I knew all too well if mom or dad threatened corporal punishment it would come surely and swiftly.   I abided by my word out of the fear of what they would do to me if I lied.   Being untruthful was a magnificent sin in my little world.
Once I expanded beyond my little world- I realised that lies were something people did every day- with no remorse- and no consequences.

Yet- as I age- I fall back into the undeniable value of trust, and truth, and being who I say I am.   Even if I admit to being faulty, or broken, or  blonde (flighty) at times.

In this moment I am alone.   There is no one to call (with more authority than me) if I end up in a rough place.   My kids, my siblings- my friends, all still look to me.   I am Mom, and the Eldest, and a pillar to most people who know me.

In love...what I long for and want to offer- is shelter.

Not necessarily a place to lay your head (though that would be fine)- but a place to lay your heart.  A place, like a manger, where the most important being in the world (to me) can rest his sleepy head.
And wake up feeling new- and strong- and awesome.
Mostly because my Love found it's union- and my wisdom could attest to my loves finding.

Monday, September 14, 2015

New day

"Wisdom trumps feelings."

-Cora Blue

without a doubt- this is true.  

Wednesday, September 02, 2015



The moment you doubt in yourself,
The moment you give way to another-
The moment your happiness depends on ___?
Is the moment you fail altogether.

In this landscape of broken dreams,
Is the moment you see WHO you are,
Beautiful, ugly, perfect, or shattered-
A planet, or a fallen star....

The sweet moon shines on me tonight-
Forgiving all of my imperfections-
I glow in the thought- of maybe just maybe,
I AM my own version of heaven....

IF I smile at each fear, IF I welcome each change,
IF I step out in faith when I must-
Love will find me- love will bind me,
And love- of myself- will be simply enough.

-CRB  9.2.15