" ...Remember the people have always struggled to live in harmony in peace ..." / Young and old working together

I was listening to the voices of life

Chanting in unison

Carry on the struggle

The generations surge together

In resistance

To meet the reality of power

Mother earth embraces her children

In natural beauty to last beyond

Oppressors brutality

As the butterfly floats into life

We are the spirit of natural life

Which is forever

The power of understanding

Real connection to spirit

Is meaning our resistance our struggle

Is not sacrifice lost

Is natural energy properly used

One time

I was visiting with my relatives

The clouds the mountains the sky

The trees

My relatives touched my spirit

Nudged it lovingly

Listen to us impatient one

We are forever

You must remember the gentleness of time

You are struggling to be who you are

You say you want to learn the old ways

Struggling to learn

When all you must do is remember

Remember the people

Remember sky and earth

Remember the people

Have always struggled to live

In harmony in peace

Struggle against selfishness and

Weakness so the people may live

As nations

The old ways are hard

The people have always had

To work together

Remember impatient one

Remember and live

Do not be afraid of truth

Respect discipline

Share your life so the people may live

Honor sky and earth

Honor yourself

Honor your relations

Remember impatient one

The gentleness of time

Grandmother moon

You are more than light in the night

You are more than the moon

You are spirit connection

Your energy is our life

You are memories to generations past

You are the creator of sensations

That will always last

You are the knowledge the teacher

The influence to keep the people sane

You are a healer for spirit pain

Grandmother moon

We love you and we are angry

At the invaders who trash you

And violate our universe with

Their mechanical uncleanliness

We pray for you for us and for the

Invader who just can't comprehend

Respect love or the balance of life

We do not join the invading madness

From the way they act

It speaks of spirit sadness

Machine money progess is the

Cause of our common abuse

We see you grandmother

We feel you

We love you

We know through your reality

We will endure

We are one

We pray for you

We pray to you

Grandfathers whispering in the wind

Rejoice at the life you are a part of

Natural energy bound to natural laws

You will survive this

Temporary madness imposed upon you

Natural life is longer

Than opperssor's

Illusionary insanity

Spirits experience human deeds

But need not end

This is just one place of changes

Spirit life is forever if you want it

The universe is your home

You can survive here

Do not let them kill you

Keep your spirit strong

For distant stars and distant drums

Are the memories of spirit infancy

Children of earth let the spirit live

So you can grow in you place

In the universe

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Sunrise doesn't last all morning

A cloudburst doesn't last all day

Seems my love is up and has left you with no warning

It's not always gonna be this grey

All things must pass

All things must pass away

Sunset doesn't last all evening

A mind can blow those clouds away

After all this, my love is up and must be leaving

It's not always gonna be this grey

All things must pass

All things must pass away

All things must pass

None of life's strings can last

So I must be on my way

And face another day

Now the darkness only stays the night-time

In the morning it will fade away

Daylight is good at arriving at the right time

It's not always gonna be this grey

All things must pass

All things must pass away

All things must pass

None of life's strings can last

So I must be on my way

Face another day

Now the darkness only stays the night-time

In the morning it will fade away

Daylight is good at arriving at the right time

It's not always gonna be this gray

All things must pass

All things must pass away

All things must pass

All things must pass away

What woke me up today

 

Witness

Sometimes the mountain
is hidden from me in veils
of cloud, sometimes
I am hidden from the mountain
in veils of inattention, apathy, fatigue,
when I forget or refuse to go
down to the shore or a few yards
up the road, on a clear day,
to reconfirm
that witnessing presence.

by Denise Levertov

*

Awake Awhile

It does not have to be Forever,

Right Now.

One Step upon the Sky's soft skirt

Would be enough.

by Hafiz

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Awake

Waking today

just before winter

when I try to name the color of grasses,

how I feel of their beauty,

there is no word.

I think of the time before there were 

words

when you would know morning mist 

by the feel

of your loved one's skin and hair,

and when someone came from the forest 

of dry leaves

you would know by their scent

even if they carried no wood.

Or the heat of their body skin in summer.

Or if they came the winding way

down from the mountains

they would be covered in cloud

returning to the fold

or if they had gone farther, to the ocean,

you'd know them by their far-seeing eyes,

and when some travelers return

and are shining with light

you know, without saying, that they

have been

in touch with other worlds.

I have no wealth to speak of

other than this,

all this, just to praise the dry grasses

and their color that can't be spoken

in words.

by Linda Hogan

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It could have been the gift of a full moon in the palm of her hand and then I noticed the presence of her father for the first time

 

Yesterday I stopped at my hall closet door to look at the flyer attached there and announcing the last exhibit of some of the tapestries which my friend, Linda Rees, worked on over a period of 50 years before she had to stop weaving due to increasing memory loss.  When she could no longer remember how to warp her floor loom, a friend stepped in and warped it for her.  Linda still remembered how to weave and was not ready to stop, but the time came when she made a conscious decision to sell to a younger weaver the loom she had woven on for fifty years, beginning at the time her only daughter was born.

While looking closely at the image I had looked at so many times before, I suddenly noticed the figure of the father of her daughter.  He is dressed in pale green and khaki.   Odd how certain important details escape us until we can see them.  

Linda and I became good friends in the 1970s when her daughter was in grade school.  I bought one of Linda's earliest tapestries from a local yarn store.  When I handed the store owner my check, she noticed my address and told me that Linda lived a few houses down the street from where I lived and said that I might like to get to know Linda.  The store owner was right.  Linda and I bonded through our complementary art work and a love for long walks.

Linda died this past December after having turned 80 years old in November.  I miss her but can still feel her creative presence and encouragement as I prepare to begin working on Mandala #62.

Although the early morning sunlight is coming through the cottonwood trees to the east as I write, the half moon is visible high in the sky to the south.  The moon keeps us company more than the sun does.  The moon is present in our sky both day and night.  There are only two days of the month when it is not lit up for us by the sun at night, but it is still keeping us company while the sun is absent. 

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Hmmm ... and then there's the story of a bad moon rising first told in 1969 and continuing to be told more than 50 years later, carried forward by several generations:

"To us, the song is saying: "Prepare for tough times, but stay positive" -- an important message to share at times like these!" (The Melbourne Ukulele Community)

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There's the story of the Whole of the Moon as well:

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"... The moon, like a flower
In heaven's high bower,
With silent delight,
Sits and smiles on the night ..."

(William Blake, from "Night" -- Songs of Innocence)

Almost 50 years ago

Deven's sister found this photo in one of Deven's old photo albums and emailed it to me.  My R took this photo of me when we were on the island of Oahu during the week of the 4th of July 1970.  I flew to Oahu from San Francisco.  He flew to Oahu from the war in Vietnam.  It was a bittersweet week.  My overflowing happiness at being with him in that moment was innocent of what he had already been through in Vietnam and of what was to unfold for both of us (all of us) in the years to come.



From "The Hours"

And...and I remember  thinking to myself:



"So this is the beginning  of happiness..."



"This is where it starts!"





"And, of course,  there'll always be more."



Never occurred to me



it wasn't the beginning,



It was happiness.



It was the moment...