Renewal

Tap-Tap-Tapping (Audio)

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Обои завязанные глаза, девушка на поле ...

I wish I could write something beautiful
I wish I could write something so real that it would change how things are
I can see it in my mind, a picture so clear, I can taste it and inhale its fragrances
The desires of my heart have burned me, they have hollowed me out
The landscape of my soul has been altered
Or perhaps it is just the overgrowth that has been cleared
For now I seem to see better the rise and fall and shape of me
It seemed as if the fire would consume me and I would be no more
As the last ember died and the wind hurried away the final wisp of smoke
I remained, still there, naked, scarred, and raw, but separate somehow from all that had been
I found only dry bitter ashes and the black barren solitude of my grief
I wandered in that place, alone for many days and many nights watering the ground with my tears
Remembering what was and what could have been, wishing for what is now, Not

I hope I will write something beautiful
I hope that my Soul will find Her voice and learn to sing a new song, one that has always been
I can hear a simple sweet strain rise and fall, strangely familiar like a dream of home
For now I make my way like a blind man, sight requiring new senses
Cautiously my words tap – tap – tap before me, through the ash and the unknown
Seeking their way, reaching out, feeling for the next step along this new path
Scribbles on a page, symbols seeking structure enough to contain the melody of Her
Clever words and ego were burned in the clearing of me, the illusion of my intellect brought low
Yet with what small vision remains I catch glimpses of green arising from the soot
Life indomitable pushes through the ruin and back into the light, buds break and blossom
The landscape is bare but not barren, even the ruin enriches and reveals the soil of me
Salt tears are still needed to water this place and in my laughter new seeds are sown
What was is no longer, what is to come is yet to be, so Now patient I wait, just tap – tap – tapping

Garden Update

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“The Kingdom of Heaven is like a seed growing secretly . . .”

In a month or so this little space will be filled with green, and yellow blossoms and buzzing bees.  There will be insects laying eggs in the earth and under leaves.  Some will make their living eating the green and others will lay in wait for the ones doing that damage.

20150418_160948Roots will push deep into the earth, claiming space.  They will support all of the green that lives in the sunshine and the wind and the rain.  They will seek out places where water runs through and give every drop away to the place of the light.  The dark earth, through them will be transformed into stems and vines and blossoms and leaves and fruit.  They are not the stars of this ever unfolding process and never see the light except at the time of their uprooting and death.  Do they ever wish to be a flower or a green leaf?  Do their hearts yearn to live in the heavens and to feel the wind?  Or are they content making their way deep in the damp dark earth?

20150418_155008Tomatoes, Zucchini black and gold, Basil, Mint, Peppers, Egg Plants, Cantaloupes, and Squash will all live together in these little spaces, moving through their cycles.  When space is tight, up is the direction for growth.

Cucamelon, il melone che sembra un piccolo cetriolo

I have started some Cucamelon seeds and are waiting for them to push themselves up out of the darkness and into the light.  In a couple of weeks I will plant them in the large containers and make a trellis from them to climb.  It is said that they taste like cucumber with a hint of lime.  I thought they were cute and would make a good salad with some grape tomatoes and onions, vinegar and olive oil.

20150418_155033So the planting is just about finished.  As the babies settle in and grow a little I will give them a bed of clean wheat straw to help hold the water and give them a pretty place to rest.  And next year that straw will become a part of the earth, enriching it.  And next year’s roots will push through the earth finding water and through their magic transform last year’s straw into a squash or a tomato or a flower which feeds the bees.  Be Groovy! 🙂

Turning fallow Soil – My Garden, My Soul

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The remnants of last year’s little garden.  Curly kale gone to seed but supplied one last meal.  There was some spinach and chicory and a few brussel sprouts left to add to the meal.  A fall garden’s last gift to the spring.

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I have a raised bed with several different containers that produces food for a little bistro housed within a small winery.  The larger containers are 80 gallon fermenters that at one time held wine that I made.  Now they hold tomatoes, and cantaloupes, cucumbers, winter squash, and this year some cucamelon vines.  The Salvia has returned and the undying, unrelenting mint continues to attempt to claim all.  It is remarkable the amount of food that can be grown for pennies in such a small space.

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A thousand times the spade split the ground.  Lifting and turning unearthing the earth.  I began with soil that had too much clay.  Each year I amend it with last year’s straw.  And last year’s dung from an elephant at the zoo.

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I was happy to see many of these little guys.  Hidden deep under the earth they transform last year’s straw and last year’s crap into rich food that will produce fruit and seed that will sustain me.  The soul of the earth and my own soul seem to work in similar ways.

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The earth is ready.  Like a blank canvas it awaits my choices, ready to receive the seed, eager to hold, nourish and support the new life which will spring forth out of her.  For a few hours labor, blistered hands, burned skin, and aching muscles, I will receive back beauty and nourishment for my body and my soul.  The planter is one I made from a re-purposed pallet last fall.  I was going to plant strawberries but chose basil to use in a fresh pesto.

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My first babies of this year.  They were happy in their new home.

Be Groovy!

Lost (Audio)

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Photo Art – Matt Chambliss

Something was missing, awry, incomplete, Lost
Something undefined haunted, just outside of comprehension
An Un-Thought Known, a Soul’s itch that can not be scratched
Searching for an answer to a question not asked
Seeking a treasure rumored to exist somehow, somewhere

Beautiful echoes, fine like a razor, opening closed spaces
Fragrance on the breeze enchants, calls, inspires

The taste of blue, gold, and brown, known but not realized

(I can hear the sunlight, the birth of stars, all known but not realized. Alt.)
Soul extended, seeking to touch the moon, always out of reach, lunacy
Reflections glimpsed on the periphery of matter yet never beheld

Source of longing hidden, unfathomable like echoes, fragrances, the flavor of blue
Senses, flesh, building empty treasure houses
Pilgrimage to no-where, there and back, there and back
Hope, disappointment, grief, hope, disappointment, grief
Tired, sinking low under the weight, all the houses have crumbled

Senses, Spirit, Soul, unfettered for a season
Ego humbled by folly
Yet even as the dust settled around and over the debris
There was laughter, a sweet simple melody, rich as the Earth
Quickened now, thirst creates a new and unseen path

As “I” crumbled my Self was found
The treasure is always in the heart of the Temple
The fool has died, but the Jester remains
I was lost but now am found
Was blind but now I see

The Second Half (Audio)

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Calling

I have skills

I have intelligence

I have proven courage

I am creative and imaginative

I have an easy way with people

I am moderately attractive

I am strong in action

I have access to resources

I am healthy

I have led

I have followed

I am experienced

Yet I sit

I am not lazy

I am accustomed to work

But now even marking white screen with black symbols is an effort

To what end

An act of faith, or a shot in the dark

I have

I have

I am

I am

Yet it all seems a mask, paper mache

Wire, paper, glue and hollow inside

Or perhaps a game played but no longer interesting

I seek a calling

A reason

A vision to manifest

A vocation to which I will submit the second half

A new reality on which to focus what I have and who I am

That I may be remade, renewed, restored, and redeemed

I want to be alive before I die

In submission to the true calling of my Soul

I will find my freedom