The Speaking of the Stones

We come from the earth’s center

Formed thought the eons

And now,

Now, risen to the surface and exposed to light.

We are eternal….primordial….

Use to the deep dark places

Where knowing is felt.

There is no light to see by…

No books to read.

The body wisdom leads the way.

Trust in ones own intuition is heightened. 

The pace is slow… 

Formless… 

Patience is required. 

When we leave the dark places to rise to the surface

Another marriage will take place.

This one between

Spirit

And

Bodysoul.

The soul shows herself first

In the dark, eternal places

And

When she is honored

The body will bring it

To the light,

Honoring the way of the soul

Trusting its path

Its sense of direction.

The essence of the soul is sacred,

Holy

Let your soul lead you,

Let it lead you to the deepest places,

Down the longest roads

Up the tallest mountain,

Let it lead you to your wilderness.

Let it touch other souls

And be fed. 

Guard it with your life

For indeed,

It is your life

 

The Signing of the Contract

 

Some say we came to this world

With an ancient contract

Hidden in our memory

And pressed upon our upper lip

By our angels guiding hand.

Some say that we have already

Made choices, signed contracts

And then, forgotten

Why we chose this life.

They say we choose our families,

Our mother, our father, our sisters, our brothers,

And, they have agreed to inflict

The sacred wound. 

The sacred wound that will allow us

To become fully human,

Fully part of this world,

Rather than caught between.

The wound that is for our forgetting,

Now, for our remembering.

The wound that is for our healing

And so, for others.

The wound that will remind us

Again and again

Our true nature, our souls longing

To be transformed

By love.  

 

Introduction of the “Furies” who sing the stones

 

There was a time

Before this time

When the Furies were the force

That held the world together.

They roamed

In pursuit of those

Who dared to offend the primordial

Laws of kinship.

That is anyone

Who committed the sacrilege

Of spilling kindred blood.

They held the sacred energy

That knew we were all kin

All interconnected

Not only to each other but

To our physical world.

This knowing seems to be silent

Or forgotten, or mute,

Perhaps as we fell stones are

But in ancient times

Stones were known to be alive,

Holding soul

And spirit

And memory. 

Once

with a stone in my heart

I heard the stones sing.   

 

The Creation of the Vessel

 

Little one,

Little one, listen to me.

You of my heart

Listen to me.

I don’t know how to tell you

About the sadness,

The shame of being a woman

And why it should be so.

I don’t know how to make that different for you.

I don’t know how to tell you that deep

Inside you, your knowing is right,

When all around, we say that knowing

Is wrong. 

I don’t know how to protect you.

I want you to grow strong and brave,

Unafraid of living with a vulnerable heart.

I want you to be everything you can be,

And I want you never to diminish yourself

As I have done,

To be acceptable. 

Little one,

I offer my mistakes,

And my learning

For you to learn from.

Little one,

Listen to your voice, your knowing

And go forth.   

 

Dark Heart

 

I have not

brought forth life

in that time-honored way

No new life captured in my belly

And bloodily

And rudely

Expelled into the world

When my body

Had decided it was time. 

No.

For me

New life has come from

A different place,

My hands, my heart,

My belly too,

Raw, uncensored,

Often unconscious,

From dreams

And memories

Of the ancient ones

Who whisper in my ear

And draw beneath my eyes

And urge me

Again and again

To bring forth,

To make manifest

Another reality.  

 

Longing

 

Where are you?

Where are you,

You who I miss so much.

Where are you?

Where is that sound that was you?

Where is that certain energy that I knew was you

That I loved being surrounded by. 

Where are you?

Where are you? 

Sages tell me you are all around,

Sometimes that even feels true,

But; in this place,

Where are you?  

 

Longing 2.

 

It’s over for another year, this time…

This time

Of trying to recapture

Some vague

But powerful memory

Of a certain kind of love. 

Thank god it’s over. 

This time when our very human frailties,

Our stone hearts,

Our unbridled will

Keep staring us in the face

And keep reminding us,

As if we needed it

That,

We are not that,

That somehow we

Keep eluding it,

Or,

It eludes us. 

And most of the time we can rest in our forgetting

But,

At this time of year,

As light is born again,

We can do nothing but wish

It might not be so.  

 

Whispers

 

I wish I wanted nothing.

This wanting,

This desiring,

This desperation

Brings all sorts of problems.

I hear the whispers

Telling me I should be more,

More than I am,

That I should be different,

Different than I am.

I should have this,

Or that,

I need it,

And if I had

It,

Whatever that particular it is,

I would be fine.

And with the whispers

Comes the jealousy,

And with the jealousy

Comes the hate,

And it’s so easy to hate

Someone who has what I want.

And while I am hating you

I am hating myself even more

For having all those lousy, shameful feelings

Of not being that

Which I long to be

With all my willful heart.

And in that place

It’s easier to rage and hate

Than stay and rest

In the place where the

Whispers can find me

And the shadows surround me. 

 

Lost Innocence

 

It’s been a long time coming.

A very long time,

This realization

That I am that…

I always blamed you

Or you

And said

If only you would change

If only you were different

I would be fine

And under my breath

And beneath my words

Was

“It’s all your fault

poor helpless me”

And it felt that way

As if I were helpless

And I hated that.

It all changed one day

When I realized

the voice

was in me.

I was that

Terrorizing, harsh,

Judgmental voice.

I am the dark extinguishing my light.

And somehow

that made a sea change

in me.

For now,

Now I saw,

I felt

The power of that energy

And knew

There was a part of me that loved it.

And in that knowing

I lost my innocence.

This hard time

Was a death

And a birth

And looking back

I know

It was a state of grace.

 

The Ground of my Being

 

I stand in my nakedness

Bare before you.

Bare to the earth

the grass, the stars.

Bare.

Standing on stone my ground.

The heavens above

And the earth below.

I am a rod

connecting both.

My body written upon,

impressed upon.

My body my story,

My body my soul made visible.

My body, my vessel,

My container, my ground. 

 

The Vessel

 

I wait

Empty

This is the beginning.

What will fill me I accept with gratitude.

It is what I need.

The place to start from.

I can choose to ignore it,

Degrade it,

Throw it away as unworthy,

Or, I can let it move me,

Form a relationship with it,

Follow where it leads

Waiting

Watching

Vigilant for the next filling.

What are the connections?

Where am I going?

I don’t know.

I follow the emptying

And the filling of the vessel

And the space between the actions.

I am learning

I am the vessel.

 

 

Lost Moment

   

When the sun rose

breaking the new dawn

did you help sing the world into creation

or

did you, like me

stand beside

waiting for another to sing that first note

before joining in.

When you were standing there

alone, self-conscious,

while all around

starting from that central point,

that essence

and spiraling ever outward

rose

note by note

the new song

which

became the new day.

But

if you were like me

holding on to yourself,

frozen in your fear

of not being good

or right

or whatever

they sang the song with out you

and the sun rose

and the world was created again

while you and I were still asleep.   

 

Memory

 

It may be

that

the time has come

to remember

our original language.

Not the language

of our mind,

our intellect

but the language of our true knowing. 

In this truth

those things which we use

to keep separate,

our ego,

our defenses,

the stone to cover our heart,

stand beside

and we know

even if for a brief moment

what it is to walk in love.