Thank you, Alaya, for sending me this extraordinary youtube series! Just this morning, I was pining for the wonderful videos and music I used to post here, but some rural technological challenges have gotten in the way. If the entire series is as thought-provoking, funny, authentic and richly inspiring as these, we can surely ride this wave into The New.  French original, English subtitles, 10 minutes long. Vive the hearts and minds who brought this forth to share with the planet! Here are the first two; if they resonate with you, you can go to youtube for the remainder.

i always wanted to share with you
the best of who i am

reap and replenish the fruits
of succulent succor

i remained at the ready

heart open
door more than ajar

while you cantered
cantilevered

your variant mutterings echoed
like quicksilver
maybe maybe not
whatever

hovering just above the surface
hummingbird
in flight
midair frenzy
of wings
would gentle soaring somehow destroy your nature?

all creation would be served by
your earthly arrival
battling against gravity
is food for fools

time is but an essence
concentrated experience that leaps
flutters
drifts past us vaguely somnambulant
 until we blink

and it disappears from view

illusion is like that,
you know,
it no longer holds my attention

please may i have
another piece of pie?

perhaps the pecan
this time

must we again be crammed like cattle in the birth canal?
every vestige of the old clings and clutters
like intoxicated flies of autumn that will not be swatted away
they weave listlessly
landing near to our noses and teasing with the momentarily unattainable
our feet stuck in the syrup again

oh, shift!
we know we are but an instant away
the land of the promised tangoes toward us
only to pull back sharply in a volte-face
a sea change poised in oscillating sway
renders us restive and incomplete

oh, shift!
the vibrational backhoes rev their engines
they have arrived to carry away the sweepings of unlived lives
clear slag heaps of ancient flotsam and jetsam
of runious choices and decisions of invalidity
is my closet not yet empty of the remnants of reconciliation?

transmutation is a bittersweet pill marked by rhapsody and lamentation
supernal spiraling and plummeting freefall
we hang on tenterhooks decaying to the core
while the chrysalis pulses in deconstructive readiness,
quickened by impending genesis, the final molting tickles our tongues
wends its way through a helical dance of evolution
and urgently entreats us to be patient once more.

oh, shift!

Here we go with some more traditional, rhyming verse. A wise friend commented that the free-flowing muse shifted recently, bringing in a more structured energy all-around. Whatever the reason, it’s working for me. This piece seems a likely companion to a similar one I penned some years back, which you can read right here. 

 how brave the heart

Through the mist softly came a wandering  herd
Not of flesh, bone and sinew–the primary word
Arrived in the meadow bent humbly in prayer
This did not go unnoticed
By one sweet maiden fair.

What fresh wind is this?
What fate elemental?
You pierce me, my Lord!
With things rare, sentimental
The gifts that you offer, the alchemist’s table
Is prepared, set for magic through this unfolding fable.

My cauldron infused with herb, flower, and bee
Potent, my potions align here with thee
You surprise me, but yet something knowing pours through
Some deeply lodged landscape unfolds into view,
The vessel familiar, the stage rightly set
But natheless, all new: Have we ere met?

Something unsettling though earthly in essence
Moves swiftly, aloft, yet strangely quiescent
Is this destiny or madness?
Pray tell, what say ye?
Am I daft or deranged? Has the mead left me bold?
In the twinning of souls I see dross turned to gold!
The delights of the hillside, of dark, flowing streams
The drone of the bagpipe, the lancet’s gleam
Bringers of peace triumph mongers of hate
Across continents, eons, march armies of fate.

M’Lord, you intrigue me, this I cannot deny
Whether tis you that attracts or some unearthly cry
To reclaim true connection, merry greet, merry part
The ultimate opening of the universal heart
Enchantment and science the answer may give:
Why must every man die — while scant few dare to live?

It’s not the bat – - it’s the one who wields it
Not the ball but the one who fields it,
Not the swing, it’s the yearning within
It’s not the score – - it’s the spirit that wins

It’s the passion, the glory, that design the form
The ardor unchained that subdues the storm,
The plan is nothing without those who create
Who resist the temptation to arrive too late
Who time after time return to the start
Forging art as their lives and life as their art

The mind is the chock – - it will not be the lever
It deadens the heart while trumpeting, “Never!”
It’s the heavy grey shroud that swaddles desire
The thunderous torrent that dampens the fire
Quell your overzealous intellect, its rampant domination
Set the table for head and heart to dine on besotted integration

It’s not your childhood dysfunction, that old, tired news
It’s the dance of living delight, the song of the muse
Every pain that comes up offers its own box of matches
The immaculate keys that unlock inner padlocks and latches,
Your resistance is futile, surrender the way
It’s your best, highest promise for a truly new day

Does not the search for sweetness fuel every bee’s bumble?
It’s all about the catch – - not a bit about the fumble
It’s the crumbling edifice you erected in deepest slumber
Your awakening to a storehouse of riches beyond number
It’s a choice to self-flagellate every step of the race
Another yet to choose instead to walk, head high, with grace

It’s not about what hasn’t happened; it’s about what’s now in bloom
It’s not that anything you did was wrong – - just that you were right too soon
This, now, is what it is; this is what’s it’s not
How will you honor all you’ve been given…

       …and bring forth the blessings of all that you’ve got?

I began this piece back in July and found myself stumbling upon it this morning and bringing it to completion. These words contain great power for anyone who speaks them aloud. If this energy resonates with where you are now, you might also want to visit (or revisit) “prayer for radical forgiveness,” which resides in the right-hand sidebar in the list of “pages.” As in much of my work, the “you” in this piece may indeed represent a part of yourself that is ready to release and heal.

clearing prayer for personal sovereignty

To the one who bulleted my tender arroyos with the rat-a-tatting of buckshot spray,
I invite you to consider how the weapon was placed in your hand
Who gave you the sharp command to fire at will,
And why you acquiesced without reflection

To the one who laid at my feet a bundle of thorns beribboned by knotted raffia,
I suggest you ponder gently the origins of your wounded heart
The ancient inklings of your foundational fear
And your penetrating need to remain outside the margins of healthy attachment

To you who projected onto my illuminative scrim
a blistering repertoire of gaping wounds,
I offer you a lightsaber of Forgiveness
dipped in a river of uncoiling Compassion

To you who tore into my soft underbelly with rusty and jagged swordplay
intent on inflicting unremitting pain absent the bliss of final annihilation,
I thank you for the opportunity to strengthen the invincible core of who I Am

To the one who feigned shock and astonishment when the mirror of truth
was raised squarely to your visage of affectation and scowled discontent,
   Who retreated because you refused to offer access to Love 
when it pounded at your door
Who beat back the arrival of Contentment
when it arrived cloaked in naught but a pearly sheen of Peace,

I invite you to turn your attention inward and halt your ragtag march
to bludgeon every supposed exterior enemy along your path

And I release here and now,
into the willing and outstretched arms of a Just and Loving universe,
My unholy attachment to your pain-riddled accusations.

May Blessings and Joy embrace you in every moment
May LovingKindness guide your every step
May we all choose our highest expression
and let Love lead the way.

You can pray
Or be the prayer

Sing
Or be the song

Ask the searching questions
Or live the unmistakable answers in every moment

You were placed here for a purpose beyond all purpose
A hope beyond all hope
You are the very breath of Creation
And the unfolding of Eternity

Nothing is about you
And everything is

Nothing is certain
Save the unequivocal certainty of the here and now

You own nothing because you are the All
Need nothing because within you lies the completeness of never-ending Love
And the promise of humanity’s everlasting freedom

You can talk the talk and walk the talk
Until that unmissable moment that you become the talk

You are the message, the prophecy,
 The incantations and the psalms
The ritual is your beating heart
The absolution, the blood coursing through your veins
Your eyes speak the benediction with every blink

No longer must you see yourself
a lowly pawn in the grand game

No longer need you wait, candle in hand,
For the apparition made manifest

The temple lies within you!
Through your holy mouth enter the willing
And return the newly born.

your regrets and disappointments,
let them go
missteps and infelicities,
cast them aside
indiscretions of the past mean nothing now
and if you insist on lugging them along
in some ersatz act of Sisyphusian heroics
your feet will fail you

and you may never arrive

leaking baggage is no longer de rigueur
as proof of your wounded eccentricities,
the weight of these badges has inspissated your soul!
elevate yourself
let each sodden sack tumble over the transom

these millstones are no longer yours to carry

place your struggle on the ground before you
and walk away
bundle your ancient shame in a canvas bag
loosen it from your shoulder
and drop it on the doorstep of Creation

it is none of your business who picks it up

do not look back,
retrain your gaze
the old holds nothing for you now!
you need not watch in morbid fascination
as it sputters and spins itself out of existence

your eyes were given to see so much more

divest yourself of the accumulated wreckage of life
and its propensity to drag  you to the dungeon,
the light of all that is good and true
sweeps the endless horizon in illuminative glory,
searching out the intrepid spirit
that lies beneath your ragged heart

prepare to receive the outpourings of love

It is hard to fathom how much  has been going on with me since my last post — which seems like eons ago.

I have relocated to the tiny southeastern Colorado town depicted in my banner (above) and am awash in a new world of communication snafus. No cell phone service, intermittent internet at my home computer, and no landline (yet).

But that’s really okay, since I am now finishing up a book that I need to deliver to the publisher in about a week. So, the fewer distractions, the better. The book, Be Filled With Faith, is set for release by Blue Mountain Arts in March 2010 – my first solo title with them. Up until now, they have published a handful of my greeting cards, plus included individual verses in about a dozen or so of their gift anthologies.

Also, I am treasuring my last week with my daughter, who heads off to a distant college next week. Plus, about two weeks ago, she and I traveled to the Washington, DC area for a wonderful week with family.

So, amidst the unpacked boxes and bags, unmade phone calls and  emails, etc., I am basking in my newfound community –  embraced by my generous and caring rural ranch country friends, sustained by offers of fresh eggs, plums off the tree, and a 25-lb watermelon (among much more to nourish body, mind and spirit!); and luxuriating in the emptiness that surrounds me with its richness.

As you might presume, nearly everything I’ve ever written about is manifesting in my life in an accelerated manner — and I couldn’t be more thrilled!

Give me another week or so and I hope (!) to get back to blogging with some regularity. In the meantime, continue to clear and release, embrace new opportunities, and leap into this amazing new world that is unfolding as we speak. Never has there been so much support available to those of us who are committed to the manifestation of our highest truths and most cherished dreams…

I am thrilled to share the news that my poem, Migration, was awarded an Honorable Mention in the Writing Competition sponsored by Tiferet: A Journal of Spiritual Literature. First Prize went to a work of nonfiction; two Honorable Mentions were given each in the Poetry and Fiction categories.

Tiferet’s self-described mission is “to promote peace in you as an individual and in our world. Our poetry and prose are dedicated to bringing you closer to spirit and higher consciousness through the written word. Tiferet is a Hebrew word meaning reconciliation of opposites, the heart, compassion, truth. On the Tree of Life, it is where the material and spiritual worlds meet. Tiferet the magazine is a multi-faith publication, presenting a variety of religious traditions as different paths up the same mountain.”

Not certain what might accompany the honor, since I haven’t received official notice but simply stumbled upon the news today on the Tiferet website. For me, however, the profound joy at being recognized in the spiritual literary arena, in a journal that features work by some serious heavyweights living and dead, is enough. Oy! I am certain that my Grandmother and my Father are beaming from above.

BTW, this poem first appeared on this blog on August 25, 2008, under the title “poetry for the nomadic soul: migration.”

For another winning poem, (re)visit the post, “well, dang if i didn’t grab first prize in the “inaugural poem we should have had” contest!”

Migration
By Rachel Snyder

Here is where I lay my head
Where I have proffered my heart time and again in absolution,
At this very juncture I extracted the juice from an overripe pomegranate
Stripped off a smocked robe devoid of fasteners
Knelt beneath a river of bliss that choked my bloodstream with its acrid sweetness

And shook my fist defiantly in the face I had stroked tenderly mere eons before.

Here is my port of storm
My underground railroad lugging along an oasis of liberation,
Two rivers confluent in the language of ornate limitation
This unmapped cacophony of intersecting lines and concurrent spheres
Littered with etched footprints askew in the breath of restless sand

Mocking my every move with its erudite solidity.

Here I seek a deep shred of nourishment
The unmistakable stench of recombinant DNA wends through my brain,
Taking up residence in caves noiselessly vacated by wanderers besotted and adrift
Awash at sea in the primordial tears of unborn nebulae
Insistently begging to be shown the higher ground

Peering into my eyes and gazing beyond unknown ellipses of abnegation.

Here is a waystation for the soul’s undoing
The familiarity of nowhere grazes dermic underpinnings,
Floods a riparian desert with outpourings of eternity run amok
Every empty vessel is filled to overbrimming
The sublime and sublunary meet in a shuddering of ecstasy

The balm of Melissa no longer soothes.