Have you ever felt the words of a poem so strongly in your heart that it hurts until you get them out? It is difficult sometimes, translating such emotions to words, especially the poems that seem better spoken then written. When the right words emerge though, they are beautiful, like a butterfly unfurling its wings.

Still there is fear of damage to something seemingly so delicate. My poems are my children, dare I send them out to the world? Or should I hold them close and protect them from the prying eyes that would judge them?

Autumn comes, the trees on my path change colour, animals move with a new urgency, even the moods of men seem changed as of late. Time for harvest, should I share what I have reaped or keep it as my own?

I bought these mystery flowers yesterday for two dollars, they were only purple at the time. I keep my flowers in an old glass milk bottle, I know my partner gets a laugh out of that.

This morning when I came out to feed my furry alarm clock I found white flowers opening up within the purple ruffles. What a delightful surprise! Better then coffee.

There are so many mysteries in life, so many are impossible to explain. I love these little mysteries because they do not ask to be understood - only appreciated. They teach us to have faith in their lessons, we do not need to have all the answers, we only need to live in that moment.

I stood on the seashore listening to the crashing waves. My tidal brothers and sisters called to me from deep below, that I should come join them. Their voices have drawn many before me, and I know I am not the last. I stood by the sea and yearned, hold my arms out wide and whispered for Her to take me.

In what moment do we cease to exist? Is it when we stop fighting and fall into the fold? Is it when we surrender to becoming what others expect of us? Is that a death? Should we mourn its passing?

I seek not to escape, or die or disappear, but rather, I only seek to wanderer. Perhaps that is why I do not enter the ocean now, her womb welcomes but I am still restless.

My soul breathes the winding roads and desolate landscapes. Worn down shoes mark my passage, a scallop shell marks me as a pilgrim. I journey to where the roads meet the sea and passes right though it. I shall cross there and continue on.

Satellites

I remember once walking on the beach at dawn the following day and I found my first bottle. The note inside simply said "I wish someone would save me." I took the bottle home and put a reply into it, "I wish I could save you." and I put my mailing address. Of course I never got a reply, not that I expected to. Perhaps the bottle was smashed on a rock, or is in someone's beach combing collection, maybe even mermaids took it, down deep away from this wrld.

I have moved many times since that bottle, but I still think about that message. I hope they found a way, I hope they found the strength to ask for help. I really meant what I said in the bottle.

That night, after sending my message back out I remember laying on the roof of my parents house, watching the stars. I saw a satellite scurry across the sky. I remember thinking that no one ever slows down, no one ever rests anymore. We just keep running and running until we drop, so tried we cannot even call for help. Or at least we dare not call out, we would be seen as weak.

The stars remind me of all those silent cries for help, those bottles. I am sure some of my own cries are up there too, being rushed past by those satellites.

My Soul – The Ocean

The ocean breathes through me
And my soul breathes the ocean.
White flowers swirl in the seafoam.
My offering, accepted by the tide.
Yemaya smiles.


Cool are the pearls around my neck.
The breeze kisses them and whispers,
Softly. Sweet words. Powerful words.
Kneeling in the sea, I close my eyes,
I breathe deep...


The ocean breathes through me,
And my soul breathes the ocean.
White flowers swirl in the seafoam.
My offering, accepted by the tide.
Yemaya smiles.

The sun blesses me with it's rays.
The waves come and embrace me.
My senses, drink it all in.
Purified, I raise my hands to the sky.
I breathe deep...

The ocean breathes through me,
And my soul breathes the ocean.
White flowers swirl in the seafoam.
My offering, accepted by the tide.
Yemaya smiles.

This moment is too great for my body.
The physical is shed, the spirit renewed.
My brethren, the currents, rush to greet me,
To take me on a journey.
To take me home.
I breathe deep...
And Yemaya smiles.


Mo juba awo Yemaya.
(I humble myself before the mystery of Yemaya.)