Sparks

sparks
Sparks are the beginning of fires, which warm, protect and guide, or maybe just give us something nice and spacey, a flickering flame upon which to levitate dreams.

Writing this, I guide myself. Reading it, you guide me, and perhaps yourself. We rely on each other. We move en masse, hobbling together through thickets, carrying what light we can find to see. Voices emerge, then recede.

Sparks of emotion can change your path. Sparks of ideas can light the universe. Sparks of distant stars give us dreams.

Listen, watch, trust, repeat. Sparks happen when you least expect.

Sparks can travel the speed of light through these wires, zapping you and moving on. What are sparks to you? Pass this spark on. Light a fire.

And please remember who was your flint. This flint sparked at Liz’s

Technorati tags- , ,

Virago

I wonder what would happen if the world finally came to its senses and decided war and power were self-destructive ends. AthenaWhat would it be like if women took leads and created an order of nurturing deeds. Would some women rise up and demand to be heard? Would they bicker and barter for their version of goodness goddesses as the best to be shared? Would we begin to see the comfort of a woman’s touch turn to brawn? Would her womb become the vehicle of a new ruling class, one of strength and control, a new kind of structure for keeping the peace?

What would the future be like if the world were ruled by a virago’s powerful, womanly clutch?

Technorati tags- strong women, women leaders, Athena, woman’s touch

Infinity

Infinity

A word
with eight letters
which points
in all directions
at all times,
a zillion rubber arrows
traveling out from me
forming a sphere
of unfettered completeness.

There’s comfort
in it’s cold consistency
of Always, Forever and Everywhere;
where tomorrow
and a billion yesterdays
are still and always original,
where toast popping up
warm and crusty brown,
calling for butter
to melt into into it’s textures,
is always there
waiting to be eaten.

And time
does not pass
through an hourglass
but spins
back into itself
like a huge, pink gyroscope
floating in my heart,
telling me
I’ll never be dead
only scattered.

This empty moment
as I stare out the window,
is neither here nor there,
is full of every molecule
in history, is
a fresh Fudgesicle
which never melts,
which tastes like
orange jello
or caramel pudding
or any flavor I imagine.

When I feel infinite
I expand like a red balloon
to engulf my mother’s
birth and death
my grandpa’s pain
my sister’s spinning
clutch of daily strain.
I cover them all
with endless adoration
even though I may never
see them again.

My fear sits
in my body
but I fear it not,
for it is a tender baby
to be caressed
and held lightly aloft
by my big, bulging
garnet jello heart.

I flow into my seat
and ride in my jello car
around mountains which
melt in a few billion years.
I slip down glaciers
a mile every century
and crawl up on muddy
banks with amphibian feet.
I fly over seas which boil
and then cool to salty abysses.
I breath through tree leaves
and drip sap to the forest
floor, where I compost
and form the carbon
jewel sold at the diamond store.
I ride up through the atmosphere
on a thought full of helium
and burn in a second
before visiting Luna
as a magnificent crater
is bursted open
by a star chip flying in
from infinite space.
I rage from the magma
bold belches of earth,
over the molten
eras which brew at her core.

Lime yellow jello time
wiggles around
me, in my ears
and nose, tickly
movements back
and forth, always
here and there
and never far
from Andromeda
or the Pleiades
Sisters seven stars.

When I return to my seat
in front of this screen,
the sun’s long shadows
have tuned evening’s chord
down a notch to a purple melody.

I smile an infinite smile
and no one knows who I am
but they do know, they do!
If they could just see what I can.

Technorati tags- ,

Thoughts on Connectedness

Blogging is limited by what is posted. If it’s not mentioned, it doesn’t exist, at least here on this blog. Though it may seem cliche to post about what everyone else will post about, it’s imperative that we acknowledge what must be acknowledged. We must express our various thoughtful and heartfelt meditations for the massive tragedy in Pakistan, which is, amazingly, still pale by comparison to the death toll of the Tsunami last year. And which I’m sure most of us hardly think of now, including myself. The disaster in New Orleans was a drop in the bucket by these standards, yet it took it’s toll on our culture and national spirit. The problem is how to keep these good intentions alive for more that a week or two. We live in a relatively stable political world, by historical standards. But the rage of the planet cannot be negotiated or quelled.

I was just over at Animated Stardust and read her moving meditation of the interconnectedness of all life. I pass the microphone to her, for I cannot find better words to express what I feel now.