Broken Compasses

Rocks and Light breed poetry in my bones.
Like a lovers gaze,
They hold secret messages

silent. whispers.

Chapters full of adventures, long roads traveled and yet to travel.
Water and blood like a horror
with deaths and rebirths

and. broken. compasses.

They do not sit alone.
These Rocks.
This light.

Huddled together and close to other elements
they embrace with
light kissing treetops

a. sacred. tribe.

I stare.  I soak it all up.
I ask
many questions.

and. they. answer



(Enjoying other poets, I'm linking up here today).

I've Learned To Be OK With Getting Lost

There's a sacred calming sometimes in starting new rituals, like sitting with a new book of a favorite poet. 

There's a thundering fear sometimes in starting new rituals, like a grey sky announcing a storm is on the horizon.

Usually this is where I get stuck:

What if I don't make it?  What if it doesn't work?  What if once again I move onto something new?

The doubting begins.

Like loading the car up for a new adventure.  I begin, unsure where the road will take me, unsure which routes are in need of a detour.. and in case you didn't know, I'm a bit directionally challenged.  

It's as if my GPS has a weak wire, it isn't turning on and I'm left with only me and my intuition.  I'm left with a decision to just go for it or turn around and head back towards the familiar.

Yet this time, I choose to leap fearlessly and hope that my wings form in the process of descending.

I've learned to be OK
with getting lost.

This is scary.  This.  Learning to trust myself.  This.  Asking questions.

This living from the inside out.

I stretch my arms up to the sky,
asking nature to speak to me as I stand like a warrior.

It has begun.

Unsure where it will lead but doing it anyway.

Restless Artist

Words.  Grip me.  Scream behind bars for freedom.

Even if only through rotary listing.  One by one.

Light bathing.  Trees swaying.  A restless artist.

This.  

Eyes opened to the soul.  Soul of a poet.

~Linking Up Here with Mama Zen~

Clicking My Heels

She wrote a charge.  I think to myself that she wrote it to me.  Her words, "stop thinking so much and write.  Please.  Write."  Something inside of me was nudged.  So there I was, away from home but scribbling on scrap paper while ears popped as we drove through the NC mountains on our way home from our family vacation.  19+ hours in the car.

No end was is sight, just miles and miles of trees waving as we passed.  I caught myself wishing that I could rush the process.  Click my heels together like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, "There's no place like home, there's no place like home," and arrive.  This feeling of anxiety, wishing the destination would quickly appear at my beckon call wasn't foreign to me.

I've caught myself trying to "click my heels" before.  

I often tell others that it's not about the destination but rather, the journey.  I breathe deep and "pray" like my friend rain began teaching me last week.  I pray contentment with mindful breathing.  I pause, intent on just listening.  I'm reminded to be where I am. Now.

I lay my head back on the seat and my eyes met the clouds above the horizon.  Like watercolor masterpieces, the colors blend and take my breathe away.  It's then that something happened.  A quickening deep inside my soul.

I feel Her.  

She comes close and whispers, "This.  This, Willow, is what it's all about."

At first I questioned:  Who?  Could this really be?  Oh maybe it is.  Maybe the Divine Spirit is giving me a glimpse into knowing.  But wait, What?  What do you mean by "this"?  

But somehow I knew the answer.  It was in the quiet embrace of breathing and being where I was.  In the moment.  

Awake.  Aware. Listening

Waking Up Some More

It started with a post about naming.  Some of the words stirred my soul in a way that I just couldn't put my finger on.  I knew that naming was an important part of my awakening.

I'd heard of dying to the old and living anew.  But not in this way.

I wasn't sure what to do about my writing.  Things had gotten hard.  Painful.  There is pain involved when one wakes up from a deep sleep.  Muscles and Limbs are stiff and weak.

I feel as though I'm learning how to walk again.

One baby step at a time as one friend puts it.

This is that journey.  The journey of one girl.  Waking up some more.  One baby step at a time.  Care to join the journey?