Birds in Winter

baby birds grown,
nests exposed, and
summer's lessons tested

first snow flakes
fall slushily
on crispy maple leaves

tree architecture, naked
shows the still life
of birds in winter

The Lady with the Lamp

I'm in Roseville, Minnesota, blessed to spend some time with my hard-working and very talented grandparents (88 and 91 years old) who've been navigating some extra challenges this summer. A couple of weeks ago Gram called me The Lady with the Lamp, and my dad wrote this poem that I thought was too wonderful not to share.

The Lady With the Lamp


When times are tough and we are down, there is a myth of wide renown:

As home fires fade and the kindling’s damp, here comes the Lady With the Lamp.

She brings a warmth and energy, a light that brightens all we see.

As hope returns and spirits rise, we soon begin to realize

The Lady With the Lamp is here to overcome despair and fear,

Reminding us to hope and pray for help to find a better way

To meet the many tests we face, with resolve and steady grace.

The Lady With the Lamp is more than just a maid of local lore.

Her little lamp, though very bright, represents a greater, larger light.

And though we may not understand the source of every helping hand,

We have a feeling in our heart that her compassion is a part

Of a universal earthly love that we were given from above.

Life is full of mysteries that compensate for frailties,

And one to help us up the ramp is the Lady With the Lamp.

***

Thanks, Dad! Makin' me cry! :)
Much Love!
-dancinghawk-

Ten Gnats and the Golden Dragonfly

Sunset under the bridge:
golden dragonfly lights on a rock, and
ponders.

Ten gnats circle up, up, up a sunbeam, and
drift.
Then drop, like a waterfall,
stop,
and form into a ball.
Updraft.
Ten gnats circle up a sunbeam.

Flit!
One gnat leaves the column for a surrounding ring:
one thousand gnats.
Scythe!
One pointy-winged little bird
bullet-trains through the
now-wider gap.

Golden dragonfly
disappears in a curve of shadows,
perfectly mimicking a leaf's edge.

Sunset under the bridge:
Golden shadows are in motion.

Garden News, May 29, 2010 (Spokane, WA)

Garden News, May 29, 2010
-Spokane, WA

Record rain
after late-season freezes, and yet
Egyptian Iris blooms luminescent -
ancient perfume on the breeze.

Purple chive tops,
valerian and columbine pink,
Joe Pye magenta and
crazy daisies everywhere,
each curving maneuver captured in
long stems seeking the ever-moving sun.

The first spring-red strawberry
was gobbled up two days ago, and
summer fruit is set -
round and green -
gooseberries, raspberries,
currant.

Sandy soil welcomes water as
sage tips nearly burst.
Volcanic ash, arrived 30 years ago on the plumes of
Mt. St. Helens, infuses the earth -
a recent memory in geologic time -
already sifted deep into soil

eager to nourish.

Flanders Fields poppies
just might pop on Memorial Day -
dripping blood red in living color - and the
Bleeding Heart has been blooming for weeks,
remembering the fallen
of many seasons.

The depths inform the surface;
this little patch of ground is thriving.
May this breath be remembered
for the beauty it contains.

Blessed Be.
-Dancing Hawk

I was born with worker-bee markings

I carry
I chop
I dig
I plant
I do

I am

Native No More

This canyon echoes rumbling rails

while ancient creek bed holds its tales,

and diving falcons practice fleet

with dancers - now all whirling birds.

As fish swim close to banks of words

sprayed ‘neath the beasts of steel, discrete,

I think of those who went before –

they traveled far to fish a store

of salmon jumping up the street.

The salmon jump, alas, no more,

And those who lived were shown the door –

the Chief, he rests his weary feet

along the Falls now owned by men

who might not care for fish or fen

(they sit inside a room to meet).

The river runs through PCBs –

polluters seem to sleep with ease.

The sun shines on with light and heat

and we keep on our meet and greet,

while birds of prey hunt on for meat:

in place of salmon … nothing’s sweet.

Worlds of Wonder - Starting with You

Isn't it amazing?

That we can detect CO2
- a gas -
right out of the atmospere?

That we make iron, and chromali steel
- alloy metals -
and build race cars with the tungsten?

That we sequence DNA and other
- biological minutia -
and build humans with the findings?

That these tiny bits of creation
- various and elemental -
each form a nucleus of passionate human endeavor?

And that we are here
- briefly -
the nuclei of our own possibilities and plantings?

Isn't it amazing?

A 2010 Wish List

Quark 8
iMac
2.8 GHz
16 GB 1066 MH DDR3
1TB HD (drool)
ATI Radion HD 4850, 512 MB
8x Double Layer Super Drive
Office Mac Business Edition
$4186.95
27"
3,000,000 GHz lol

The Little Breezes Blow

Little breezes blow
and poetry fills my head -

a line
another line
a gust
and i realize
i must grab a pen
and notebook.

When little breezes blow
i must be mindful -

and listen
and carefully record
what will quickly change
with the next fugue.

Prayer flags move,
leaves rustle,
and thoughts come
with increasing urgency.

To write is a release
for which i'm grateful.

When little breezes blow
i am touched
with presence
and gratitude -

may the little breezes ever grace
my universe with whispers.

Spring Equinox Meditation 2010

The lesson is:
follow your heart.

Show me my path
and give me the courage
to follow it.

The lesson is:
open your heart everywhere, all the time,

and a part of me says,
in today's society?

Show me my path
and give me the courage
to follow it.

The lesson is:
The prayer is:
Show me my path
and give me the courage to follow it.

The vision is:
from your heart all things flow, as water;
from your head - obstacles to freedom.

Change is the path and the path is change.

The prayer is:
Show me my path
and give me the courage to follow it.

You Were There

I heard you played the fiddle,
though I never heard you play.
I was told your favorite story,
though I never heard you say
what your favorite poem was,
or speak your favorite verse.

I wish that we had had the time
to sit down and converse.

We're related by some precious bond,
I feel it in my bones -
if we had had that time together,
who knows what we'd have known.
But you were there and I am here -
our paths again won't meet,

Except, perhaps, in dreams and thoughts
that live in this heart's beat.

The Bleeding Heart (for Grandma C.)

Your children gathered to mourn your passing, and the sun rose and set
just as any other day. But the Bleeding Heart awoke at dawn,
blooming red out of season. Brilliant small flower evoking
sudden travails of a far-flung clan, its message
seemed to me quite clear:

Rejoice! it sang, For even in your darkest hour I am seeking the sun,
drawing from the earth's center the passions of your spirit.
I grieve for the web of your family, weaving on for new generations.
Take solace in my presence, and let your tears nourish
the fecund earth from which I grow.

Circle within circle within circle, our passing ripples
to every atom in the universe. You are missed,
and you are remembered.

The Dog, He Barks No More (A Vinegar Flats Story)

The boy, he fell asleep, and
the cat tipped over the bong, and
the house, it caught on fire.

The dog, he barked until
the firemen arrived and
carried his

lifeless
body
out.

Prayer of Thanks (for Grandfather Ten Bears)

You helped me see the beauty
in my dreams,
and made them all the more
worth dreaming.

You held the vastness of all
in your eyes.
You kept the circle intact
with love in your heart.

You held heavy responsibility
lightly with love.
You shared and sang and listened
until your soul must have rung

with the din of it.
And you enjoyed life and living -
appreciating the gifts
most of us deny.

Thank you, Grandfather, for
your many teachings.
May my heart song
bring you
joy.

Aho Mataquiesen.

imprisoned writers throughout the world

This great site is a collection of folks from all over the world that have been taking action for imprisoned writers throughout the globe ... and this is their 50th anniversary! Check out:
englishpen.org

Imprisoned Poets in China (Feb 2010)

If poets are being imprisoned
for writing poems about the Dalai Lama,
poetry is powerful.

Poets ARE being imprisoned
for writing poems about the Dalai Lama:
poetry IS powerful ...

And you, as a poet
have poems in you
that are powerful poetry.

Mirror

I hope to be a mirror
reflecting back to you
the perfect beauty
that is your birthright.

May the white light within you
glow with special ferocity,
and your beauty awaken you
to new horizons.

Namaste.

Pleasure

Your pleasure is
My pleasure is
Our pleasure, and,
given with love,
Our pleasure
pleasures
the whole world.

A Valentine's Eve Vision

Two herons appeared in the east -

flying just over the trees,

low through the canyon -

from the south, in near-synchronicity.

Arcing upward, they suddenly banked left,

and then parted ways -

one continuing north,

the other returning south.

Twilight: Perhaps to jointly fish

a larger territory, that the new babes

of spring might enjoy their catch;

Together, we can't always be physically -

but together we can be

in purpose.

Aho Mataquiesen.

(note) 2010 Feb 13

i'm committed to sitting 8-9pm PST ... gathering energy ... and sending with love at midnight EST ... if you've never done a healing circle before ... simply meditate or pray, get yourself centered and grounded, gather that good energy, and when you've gathered all you can, add it to the circle, and the circle sends it, just like throwing a ball, at the end of the session (midnight EST in this case) ... picture where it's going in your mind's eye ... and direct your thoughts and feeling to the ones you would aid ... much love!

A Valentine's Day Wish (for Grito and AIXA)

Members of OP!
Friends of Grito and AIXA!
Dancing Hawk invites you to join her
for a Valentine's Day wish:
An hour of meditation and prayer and then
at the stroke of midnight, EST,
we send, together,
our white light and love to Grito and AIXA.

Saturday night
8-9pm PST
9-10pm MST
10-11pm CST
11-12midnight, EST

Gather your white light and prayers,
gather your feathers,
and together we, the OP circle,
will unfold some of our pure,
tangible essence.

Blue Inca Night
and
Strong White Stallion

May our love be healing wings
in every dimension.

At the stroke of midnight,
Valentine's Day,
may you, Grito and AIXA,
feel our healing love and light.

Namaste.

Dancing Hawk

Global Warming (Haiku)

The sky, it is blue.
The ground, it is frozen. The
rain, it is warm. Hmmm.

I've Done All I Can Do

I've done all I can do.

Wow.

A high standard -
difficult to maintain.

Requires
single-thought focus.

Being

in the moment.

What powerful changes we could effect
if we could say,
at any moment,

I've done all I can do.

***

Perhaps it is primordial,
this connection we have
with the darkest primitive experiences of humanity -
hunger and cold -
at the darkest time of the year.

December hits and the food drives go crazy.
Clothing, cash, blankets ...
Christmas dinners,
Volunteer everything,
Focus, focus, for one month of the year.

January hits, and exhaustion sets in.
Resolutions begin with
new paths envisioned, though
old paths tend to imprison
our possibilities.

By February, one wonders
if the urgency of need
has truly faded -
or have we simply forgotten
that hunger goes on?

Perhaps it's for survival
our collective mind works this way.
In the toughest times (the darkest times)
we fight
for survival of the species.

And somehow, we've translated this
directly
to the reptilian brain.

Literal.

When the sun is shining,
better get your bootstraps.
Make hay, or go hungry.

Hardwired into the human -
Qualities necessary for Survival.
It takes
I've done all I can do
to another level -

Because we are more
than this reptilian brain.
We are ancient -
but we are also new.
We are instinct and we are thought.

We are choice
with infinite possibilities.
We can act out of instinct
AND out of thought.
We can do much.

***

Moody like a cat
howling at the moon with the dogs
flying outside the garden wall - the hawk -
and touching the sun - the eagle -
wolf, versatile, smart, endangered, and loyal
changeling snake in transformation
spider weaving family's web
squirrel storing nuts and dancing on poles
bear, dancing on pines, fierce and unafraid
salmon jumping, journeying, providing
and hummingbird, flit-floating on
long journeys, big eyes set in whirring wings.

Just a portion of the stories of Creation,
who tells a billion tales
with every creature
unleashed on Earth.
Bee and dragonfly buzzing
about their business,
each expression of Creation can say
every day
I've done all I can do.

Can you?

we must Be Peace

if we wish for peace,
we must Be Peace

if we wish for war's end,
we must Be Peace

if we wish to be whole,
we must Be Peace

it's the only way:
if we wish for peace,
we must
Be
Peace