the fabric of a Sunday night in Seattle
the rain comes
in torrents
ravaging the sky
pressing hard
into the earth
aching, turgid clouds
release as
I drift off
in the arms of
the Beloved
mind quiet
heart peaceful
body spent
In improv class, we don’t get to use the words “don’t” or “no” and rarely get to ask questions when we are playing games. This is because it stops the story from moving forward. This has, of course, got me thinking about how I stop my own story. I see how many times I’ve let…
invited in but always careening towards something (careless footsteps) skin throbbing from the sting (and not wanting to forget) the pulsating rhythm of blood rushing to the point of entry bathed in sunlight, the clenching stops while quiescent clouds gather rich, mellifluous enchantment moments and memories stitched together (everything in his house has a story)…
queen of cups trickling tributaries raging rivers bipolar bifurcations she, discerning choosing surrendering choosing life choosing love neither predator nor prey (finally!) an open vessel– at once overflowing and empty ready to fill and be filled
A shadow on my friend, Julia’s, wall that was cast by a little dragonfly hanging in the window. I drew the Dragonfly card in the Animal Medicine tarot deck by Jamie Sams so I appreciated the synchronicity of seeing this yesterday. Here’s a bit about Dragonfly medicine: “Dragonfly medicine is of the dreamtime and the…