Over the pond’s lilies’ leaves,
morning dew settles glistening sleeves —
a covering to compliment the green,
a translucent, hint-of-blue ~ from a quivering
mist hanging, hushing everything, so all the doing
of sunrise dances must in-stasis remain…
~ or transfer by essence to the understanding
intuiting within — to find birds preen, not taking wing;
and trees upswing drying branches, delighted by wet dew.
All breathe the notes of summer’s ending nocturne
composed throughout the woods and, now, day upon day,
repeat that lullaby, trickling the scales as in a piano’s play
to accompany the year’s passing time, turning into autumn
with her blazing, flaming, dazzling, bejewelling
before Mother Nature deeply exhales — weeping dew
over all her gardened Beauty blooms — beginning
their fated wilting, falling, final, felt arias’ murmuring
the refrains life plants within, holding a promise of re-birth
to come past winter’s dominance, all frozen still
with a quiet sleeping peace — prelude to renewal…
to dawn’s Spring dances and the refreshing touch of dew.
MindBody notices feelings
EgoMe-EcoWe deign ordain
to listen sacredly inside
And consider speaking up
kindly and calmly outside
about how I feel
+Healthy=InterDependently Wealthy
original earth-tribe design
Is what's left
when you subtract
Lose/Lose mortally diseased,
and/or win/lose uneased,
anxious
stressed in-between
by uncertain climate healthcare
survivalist or thrivalist choice
of health is wealth wellness-voiced conditions.
Heart and lungs feeling
EcoWe intuiting
inviting panentheistic peak sensory experiences
Reminding bicameral mindbody
why MeWe find
deep sacred safety
where we uncover wide polycultural democracy,
compassion,
multicultural
inter-religious gratitude
for EarthDay/Night
Light/Power
Space/Time
SkyYang/RevolvingEarth Yintegrity
OutSide/Inside
Precessive/Repressive [Buckminster Fuller]
Dipolar co-arising
StrongMind/FlowEmBodied
MonoTheistic/PanEntheistic
Universal/Unitarian
1/0 double-binary
co-empathic
Nature/Spirit
nondualistic bilateral
liberally conserving
ego/ecosystemic balancing
bilateral bicameral gifts.
What is this strange place we find ourselves in
Enmeshed by desires, mind battles we wage
We’re trapped in the open, yet free within
Solitude calms not deafening thought din
Toroidal storms of fears and desires rage
What is this strange place we find ourselves in
Inescapable seems the pull of sin
Conscience cautions us to turn a new page
We’re trapped in the open, yet free within
Though we know not the way, God search begin
Intuiting the world to be a stage
What is this strange place we find ourselves in
Cave of heart beckons, so we go therein
Beholding our soul made in God’s image
We’re trapped in the open, yet free within
Baptised by Spirit, bliss throbs on our skin
We’re free at last in this mind-body cage
What is this strange place we find ourselves in
We’re trapped in the open, yet free within
23-February-2022
Self confident
I would feel inconvenient
to be dead,
Yet relieved in freedom
from trimming toe
and finger nails
and receding hair
advancing down wrinkling neck
and softing shoulders.
Although not confident
I could grow
satisfied with fictional fame,
self-grandiosing glory,
I remain curious
how timelessly satisfying might emerge
historically famous fictions,
glories of grandly granted otherwise.
Confiding ancient secrets,
I could feel confluent
intuiting alive
resilience in freedom to survive
culture's soft-spoken rhyming terror
flirting with authenticity
of memory's patterned identity
and difference,
identically coincident.
Faith
masquerading hope,
Light
fading dual-dark air without
within
True life
camouflaging trust's pervasive love
Confident
I would feel false
to grow prematurely dead.
Three wasps or hornets (I'm not clear)
Once stung my brother in his ear.
In memory, I hear his cries
Of shock and pain and pure surprise.
A horde of moms wiped off the blood
And slathered on a coat of mud,
An act my brother did endure,
Intuiting a soothing cure.
My bro was fine; the stings all healed
Yet what this incident revealed
Was how those women somehow knew,
Together, just what they should do.
Those moms are either old or dead
But what they did stuck in my head.
Communal help for one in need
Is recollection-worth, indeed.
that epicenter
where the tectonic plates
overlap
a breaking point
before the shift
walking the edge
that wedge between
dormant and motion t
my essence the sea floor spreading
before the thunder.
words have power
when they break our backs
with the arduous labour
of function
they are otherwise
vapid
so I stand on the precipice
fingering the corrugations of furrowed wounds
intuiting the solid you are trying to touch down on
wrestling my own shadows
the ache of my constant dangerous want
still echoing in the sound
of your heartbeat
in the thick of trying to satiate so many
and failing..
© Katherine Wyatt