Heart Happy (cathy_edgett) wrote,
Heart Happy
cathy_edgett

Morning Flow -

Here is my morning flow.   Jane was thinking about emergence when she wrote her poem, though she didn’t feel she went there.  She went within.  We agree that her theme seems to have touched my poems,  though I thought I was more in the celebration of rest and renewal, and yes, that allows emergence, and allowance is big for me right now.  I notice that my hair looks like that of a newborn’s.  It is soft and fluffy, and frames my face, but is still not over-abundant, and that way I can see.  My eyes are wide as I take in this new world.  I feel myself stepping like a child into it, looking, then, crawling, and I am beginning to stand.  The world is new for me, both within and without.   Here is my morning flow.

 

Rest and Renewal

 

I sleep deeply now,

dream of playgrounds

and long slides

with no end -

I slide down feet first

allowing the glide

as it turns.

I am the stream

burning the rocks

with motion,

stamping them with knowing

that movement comes

from within the without.

I am a fast-moving stream.

The time for eddies is past,

and the ocean nears.

The hand calls the fingers

to close.

The opening -

I can’t imagine -

I’m still the slide.

 

 

Shadhavar

 

warmth today looking out

fog slides a trombone of notes

across the sky,

then,  a blast.

I hear Louis Armstrong cohere,

and then little gazelle feet tapping,

my dance.

I find the footholds on the mountain

and clasp

my own horn

and touch it to the sky,

a unicorn branch

for the wind to stroke as it glides,

a bow for the arrows resting inside. 

 

 

Inside Out

 

inside

outside

I am the door

and inside, outside

I am the river and the storm,

          the ocean, an animal

              pawing the sand.

I am the land, a womb,

the triangle where creation waves,

          points,  like flags,

stand here and there and everywhere,

          on one hand and the other,

crave the literal, metaphorical, archetypal,

          merge and mine,

          mind, body, spirit,

brave the tree, and climb down,

into the savanna grasses, wands for legs.

          Enter, and out, the cave.

            Enjoy the particle spice of each wave.

                       Cinnamon on fun.

 

 

Reborn

My hair is growing out

like a baby’s.

I feel myself like a fast moving stream

no curves, no eddies -

I see the world whole -

my eyes look for patterns -

each moment the first,

I cohere.  

 

I wondered about my image of the unicorn as a gazelle.  I google’d it, and discovered the Shadhavar of Persian myths.  It resembles a gazelle with a single hollow horn.  When the wind blows over and through the holes in the horn, beautiful music is produced.  I had the image without the  myth.  Now, I have both, and so, if you did not before, do you.

 

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