Ribbons Red

Ribbons red strung across the sky.
Cables of infinity, hoisting the sun
from the deep chasm of night,
and glowing scarlet with the heat of her fire.
Ribbons red radiating from the core
of our lifeblood, to awaken the day.
As she rises in splendor, they undulate and dance,
no longer needed as red turns to gold, and the new day begins.
Ribbons red floating away to become part of the whole,
much like a soul returning to the Creator.
And I smile within, knowing……….
Nothing is forever, yet nothing ever ends.
Ribbons red to teach of new beginnings.

A Dragon with Green Balls

Oh, so what exactly did you think you’d find?
This is for Dan with an apology. Dragons are not my forte. They are difficult to morph (change body parts) hard to pose, and impossible when trying to create skin textures. It’s a total fight every time. But I had to do this one for you because most dragon have green balls……..*winks*

Dragonfly

I fished a dragonfly out of the pond this morning. He had landed to drink, and gotten caught in a bit of string algae. The once iridescent wings looked pale, and listless. I don’t know if dragonflies have eyelids, but it seemed to me his were closed. Perhaps it was just the pall of death beginning to overtake his body. I scooped him out with an old pancake flipper, and gently laid him in the sun. I found myself unconsciously thinking, “breathe, damnit!” There was a tiny, almost imperceptible twitch. Had he died after all? Then another twitch, and the color began to return to the wings. As I watched, those eyes took on a spark, and I began to hope. The oppressive heat and brutal sun that I had been avoiding for days was healing and reviving this tiny creature. Within minutes, that dragonfly was flexing his wings, and as the speed picked up, I could almost imagine what a maelstrom it would create if it were the size of a jet. Suddenly it took flight, and my heart began to sing. Why should I care if this small insect survived? It’s singular existence held little impact in my world. Or did it? Perhaps this particular dragonfly was fated to eat the mosquito that would have carried west Nile virus to my horse. Perhaps, it would eat the fly that carried infection with it’s bite. I think more honestly, that this small greenish bug captured the still existing child in my soul. That tiny bit of innocence that I refuse to give up to the realities of life. I hold dear to that bit of innocence. From it comes my ability to love…and to care enough to fish out a little green dragonfly, and hope it would live.

Who are "You"?

I closed my Face Book page last week. No one noticed. Seriously. Not a single person on my friends list has thus far mentioned my leaving. That says volumes about me, or them…or the whole FB premise that the “I” is more important than the “you”. In my world, everyone comes with a story….everyone. All I have to do is listen. In this virtual blip blop world, the only story that is important is the mine. Millions of one sided identities who strive for the biggest friends list or the Twitter tripe that garners the most quips. I keep asking, where is the story? Who are you., what are your dreams and horrors…..what makes you uniquely “you”. I don’t want to press some vague “likes” button. I don’t want to leave a 50 character comment. I want to discuss. I miss the old MSN groups (actually, they were originally called Communities) We talked, we played stupid games, and we talked. I am one of those people who say that change is the antithesis of decay, but some changes are the actual decay. When people stop talking to each other and focus solely on talking at each other, the humanity that makes us special is slowly but inevitably eroded away. It scares me. Perhaps I can say it better here…

The souls within their eyes do speak
Calling out to hear,
See the cry within my smile
Touch this heart of fear.
Find not fault with how I am
Understanding I do seek
I am angry, quiet, bold
Perhaps you find me meek.
Each comes with a story
Feelings, hurts and joys.
And, there is within each
The need to quiet noise.
I simply take what's given,
A spark within me lights.
A tiny piece of offered soul
I'll keep it safe -
And write.

Go talk to someone. Give a tiny piece of yourself, and then really, really listen to what they have to say.

Moondark

Moon dark is coming
Keep hold on your thoughts!
Darkness abounds, emotions
Are wrought.
Moon dark is coming
A dangerous time!
For ranting and raving-
And speaking your mind.
Moon dark is coming
This time in the month
When emotions swing low,
And nerves seem to jump.
Take hold of your meanings
It’ll soon pass
Then we will be
in the upswing at last.
Moon dark is coming
It’s balance you know,
Is called the full moon,
in the night sky it glows.
So ride out the lows
On the way to the highs
For moon dark is coming
It will soon be nigh!

Lore

Damselmyth in lightning cowl
Reaching toward the sky
Searching with those keen dark eyes
Ever wondering why
Fathom deep the magic here
Feel the power true
Dragon’s fire issues forth
With meaning ever new
Flights of fancy mixing deep
With Earth’s sweet pull of lore
Rising suns and darkening moons
Now enter through the door
Tendrils seek to pull and sway
Winding round the mind
Faerie laugh on tiny feet
And peace there you will find
Gentle laughter coaxing now
Come out here and play
Magic realms of fantasy
Do brighten up the day….

A Child's Eye View

Bless me Father for I have sinned. I remember the first time I went into the confessional and said those words. It was just before my First Communion, and it meant I was entering the world of adults. The real world where you got to do penance. I loved the ritual of penance. You got to go up to the alter and say so many Hail Marys and Our Fathers, and if you were really sinful, you did the Stations of the Cross. I wanted that more than anything. As I sat waiting my turn I had planned the whole thing. Walking up the isle and genuflecting at the cross point…….then deciding which way to turn, left or right in order to kneel and do penance at the alter rail. I wanted to light a candle but didn’t remember if that was part of penance or for something else. The confessional was cool and dark, and smelled of polished wood and scrubbed floors. A faint scent of incense hung in the air although none burned. I kneeled on the floor and said the words.” Bless me Father for I have sinned.” There was silence for a moment and then he spoke. “Where are you?” He was Father Joseph. I was never sure whether he was a priest or a brother, but we called him father and he was one of my favorite people. He wore long brown robes and sandals, and was in town again especially for this First Communion. Not once had he sent me away or punished me for my never ending questions. “I’m kneeling on the floor. I have to do penance.” There was silence again and I thought for sure he had left. “Get up child, you have to tell me your sins before you do penance.” Sins? What sins? I was all of maybe seven. What did I know about sins? I knew I was in big trouble. I hadn’t planned on the telling of the sins part. I guess I wasn’t paying attention in that part of class. I have never been good at lying. It was never part of my nature, but my whole shot at penance was riding on being able to come up with sins. “Well crap.” It was out before I thought. Out before I could grab the words back and try and think up something sinful. “What did you say?” I knew I had blown it. He was going to send me away and there would be no penance. “I said crap, father. I need to do penance. I have been planning this penance ever since my Mom first brought me to church. You have to let me do penance, and maybe light a candle too?” There was that blasted silence again, and a strange sort of muffled wheezing. It sounded as though father Joseph was going to pop a lung. “Well you know, saying crap to a priest could be considered a sin.” I was beside myself with joy! “Big enough to do the Stations of the Cross?” I held my breath. This was going to be it. I just might get the chance. “No little one. Why don’t you save that for some other time.” It was my turn to be silent. Maybe a bigger swear word would do it .It wasn’t going to work. I knew really big words, but no big swear words. Darn. I was doomed. “ I’ll tell you what. You say two Hail Marys and three Our Fathers, and light a candle for someone special. That will be your penance.” Yes!!!!!!! I was floating on air. I was getting penance and getting to light a candle. Every other thought left my mind. I was going up there where God could get a good look at me and know that I had arrived. Me, who had vexed the sisters into throwing her out of class. Me, who asked too many questions and could never seem to just accept, had finally arrived. My carefully planned walk down the isle was blown all to hell. I flung myself out of the confessional and ran down the isle shouting “Hey God! I made it!!! Are you ready?” Somewhere from the area of the confessional came a burst of laughter. Maybe father Joseph had popped that lung after all.