Poetry, Uncategorized

The Cottonwood Stars

Here they are today, these cottonwood stars –

this is my body, borne adrift

on a wind of sunlit motes

these are the stars

in the rarefied breath of angels

with sentience inspired.

I am this way, as one of these

headstrong and earthbound.

Perhaps the wind will lift me

up and through grandfather cloud

I will pass into the deep sky…

Else, I shall drift my day

purpose supplied, motive unsure

and drift given wind by patterning wind

I and my spirit, we are spirit

and spirited on.

And then, as we were once

before the roots bore us up

and the sun gave strength through

time until our parents we fly

back unto the body we are still

and our children may be stars.


Karmic Poertal

It is always the right thing if you know it is. You can reach a consensus of your being and know. We are all Boddhisattvas, great and small. Acts of kindness pay the greatest dividends that the Great Investment Bank of Heaven pays forward. To All.

Technology is a sense intensifier. Our world is globally connected. It is possible to transfer everything we value to anyone and anywhere almost instantaneously. All the positivity and all the ramifications exist simultaneously. The absolute duality of physical existent becomes front fold and ramifications multiply exponentially. How many factors duality can multiply up into is a mystery to me.

As are you, as am I.

I’ve tried to be kind. Sometimes that is not easy. The Universe offends if that is the language you know. It is obvious. But you may learn to remain your world from a place of positivity, and those messages will change. As will your life, possibly to your benefit and control. This is our waking dream, we are each and everyone of us expanded across Time co-creators.

This was a gift from the heart. A MF840LL/A MacBook Pro (Retina, 13-inch, Early 2015)

And it is a new space. New technology, a new interface. I need to have a good chat with Siri someday. Can you interview her, and can she interview you? Typing on this keypad is like frogs dancing on the tops of silicone lily pads. And, a publisher as radical as Gutenberg.

It is Love when the Universe dances in collusion with its sweet self.

I am worthy. Worthy of my thoughts. Worthy of my soul, and worthy of my being.

Thank you and Bless You.


On Sustainability

Sand and Sarong

Choose. Each moment of your life can have little impact on the inevitable days to follow. Or, each moment may follow the the most profound joy of the moments that passed before. 11 million bits of sense data per second. Close your eyes for a moment and imagine. Then open them again, and read this. What will you do next? Read on?

Breathe. And after that, the rest of your life will follow. Moment by moment. You have a voice in that, a strong, vested interest. For yourself, for those you love, for all of this tribe that have been and are yet to be. Many unfortunate souls think they do not, or are faced with devastating circumstances, or have forgotten about the mystical nature of time. The sarong you lost to the beach last summer has returned to dress the tumbled pebbles and driftwood. We are all half-buried in the glistening black sand, tumbled and exposed, shaped and polished by the brute energy of the cyclical nature of duality. Volcano and sea salt, tide and premonition, fiber and nuance. At present, we are not just flesh and bone, but soul and spirit.

And tomorrow? It is our tomorrow. Please help me choose.