flower deep
i am flower deep
in this love
tipsy-sweet and delicate-pink
dancing
warm sunlight and sparkles bright……
and deep into the night
dreaming you & me
together
all throughout these grassy-green fields of forever
Tag: love
enchanted
in this garden
the deep soil where i blossom
is your love
i am its flower—wild and pink
and i dance in the warm sunshine
of you
this ancient garden is born anew
and blushes like the very first light that spills
into day
tumbling out
shy
from the covers of an unknown and eternal night
this night where we walk
all along
our long and winding path without, seemingly, an end
hand in hand together one
step after another, and
into the crystal clear waters sparking with light
where, in this darkness
and here underneath all these stars
is our story, steeped and older than time
and our heart,
a seashore swelling and crashing with waves
here, where we are singing and where we are weaving
the darkness into light
the darkness into love
the darkness into these roses growing—wild and pink
right here in this garden
where we
are
where we are one, and where
we are enchanted.
Children of Shimá
Now, more than ever.
Ever since I was little, I craved the guidance, mentorship, and leadership of women—of wise, old and beautiful women. As a little girl, I loved my grandmother’s hands. She would complain to me about her “ugly old-age spots,” but her wrinkled and spotted hands were to me, beautiful. They held mine warmly, with love and kindness. They gave me the world’s best chocolate-chip cookies, miniature shoes her mother had collected, and hugs.
And now, more than ever, I crave the kindness, wisdom, love and leadership—of women. I crave a world in which old women, with their soft, worn, and strong bodies of age are acknowledged for their beauty and for their power. I crave a world where grandmothers are government.
I am grateful to my mother, my grandmothers, and their mothers… to the many wise women teachers I’ve had… and to shimá (“my mother” in Navajo, implying both a personal and collective mother). The tremendous hardships they faced in life did not diminish their love and capacity to give, but deepened it. May I walk bravely in their footsteps…
now, more than ever.
again
empires rise and fall
and the world’s great cities are built to someday crumble back into the earth
as landmasses collide and drift apart
the stars, in brilliant constellations, climb up into the night sky only to disappear again
buried somewhere beneath the horizon of day
and we come and we go, again
and again
and yet
we dance, again
all the while we dance
again
in these eternal arms of love
new year aspirations
i want to fly with wings
like the angels
full of light and love and peace
beautiful
and in the divine wind, dance
like the starlings
precise, purposeful, impeccably wild and free
in spite of all these tears
the hardship and the heartache
in spite of our wars and endless trauma, catastrophe, disaster and destruction
i want to fall
again and again
like the drunken fools
madly in love with this world
fire
my heart
today
has no words
only fire
in this body burning
sacred
holy
and
divine
❤️🔥
ありがとう
my heart today has no words only love for you for your love for me
ありがとう is arigato, “thank you” in Japanese.
sunrise sequel
On the last day of my visit home to see my mother, I took one last sunrise photo—my heart filled with gratitude for her return from the hospital and steady recovery… My heart overwhelmed with gratitude for the doctors and nurses, the friends and family who prayed for her recovery, for the ability and support I received from my work to abruptly drop everything and fly across the Pacific to be with my mother, for the healing she received and for her own strong will to heal, for time with my family and our cat, for the ever deepening awareness of just how precious this life is… My heart flooded with the beauty of each and every new sunrise.
The following poem is inspired by and written for my mother, who enjoys gardening and playing the lyre, who loves harvesting the blueberries and baking bread, who delights in feeding the birds and fish and all the little creatures… for my mother, who is a poet and is poetry… for my precious mother, who is the sunrise…
home free
when the sun rises
all the beautiful flowers and butterflies dance
in this garden of life
in this wild symphony of wonder and delight
when the sun rises into the sky
i dance with the swallows
and with the wind
dancing
with no particular path nor purpose
dancing
just for joy
just for the sheer love of dancing
for love itself
and for life
for one another
when the sun rises
we dance wild and we fly
home free
imagine
angels and demons
dance together in my dreams
no heaven no hell
I wrote the above haiku and reflection below about two and a half years ago. With the recent outbreak of war between Israel and Hamas, I thought it apropos to share this again. May a world of peace for everyone dawn—pink and soft light over the horizon of darkness.
From Aristotle to Einstein, philosophers, artists and poets over the ages have spoken about the power of imagination. In some regards, it is lamentable that we often perceive knowledge as an accumulation of so-called objective “facts”, and imagination as a kind of unreal world of dreams. But the creation of anything and everything always starts with the imagination. So what then actually, is imagination? Is it not the source of everything?
Since its creation in 1971 by John Lennon and Yoko Ono, the famous song “Imagine” has been invoked worldwide in a shared desire for humanity to transcend differences and to live “life in peace”. You may say that imagining world peace has not created it; however, in the act of imagination, in stating and singing and sharing the dream, are we not creating the real experience of peace within our own hearts and together with others? When we imagine peace, we experience it. Likewise, when we imagine violence, we experience it. What we imagine, we experience. What we imagine, we become.
We are all dreamers—it is our birthright and our true nature. So why not dance and dream together, for a world of peace? We are our dreams. May they be light.
Michiru Adrienne 