Marx's Tomb

Today was a day of fingers dancing
on keyboard letters
Slow waltzes spinning numbers into spreadsheets
Then tapping lightly as Inspiration
transported them, shaping stories in NETMA.
Today I wrote well if I say so myself.
Today I laughed a lot.
Today I was dumbfounded by ignorance:
Is Marx's tomb a communist plot?
That is a grave question indeed!
Today was a day I felt strong;
connected to Earth.
I could feel its currents like subtle caresses.
Today I liked being alive.
Today as I drove home, orange clouds tinged with pink
glowed in the West, pregnant with snow.
Today I was grateful I stayed late at work
just so I could watch the sky.

I want a magic wand!

Today eight Steller's Jays were all abuzz
when I opened the back door
to give them their daily fix of peanuts.
I swear they were saying "Hey!  She's here!"
Today I felt their excitement
and treasured their presence.
Today I wondered what gift the disharmony
and tension at work held for me.
Today I tried to discern what part
I play in all that.
I have to own what is reflected:
control, judgement, wanting to separate.
Today it was hard to keep love in my heart.
Today I fell into resistance.
Today I wanted a magic wand:
I'd sprinkle love and empowerment
and acceptance throughout my workplace.
Hell -- I'd initiate a downpour of love!
Open the floodgates!
Love starts with me.
Maybe I'm the wand?

Money, Honey!

(this is a rap...think Eminem)
Money.
The effluent
of affluence
defoliating dreams,
felling ideals,
clogging streams of consciousness.
The fluency
of currency
influencing reams of images
pretending to be authentic
voices of the soul.
Speaking in tongues of desire
to acquire;
conspiring
to strip,
rip,
nip
any shred of decency.
Shrouding the rawness of my hungers
in false cravings.
I wonder
when the ravening will cease.
The fingers stop groping,
hoping for increasingly
large handfuls of stuff
to titillate,
mire my mind
in the gyres of possession,
quelling higher callings
with a procession
of temptations
that
pull
me
down.
Suck my spirit
until my essence is gone,
spewed into the womb of cash registers
frozen in barren assets.
A landscape littered
with dollar signs.

Death of a friend

Today was a day of sad news
A friend died last night.
My God.
I didn't say goodbye.
No more quick repartee's!
Friendly lunches.
No more next times.
Today was a day I wondered
if Death sends subtle signals,
leaves small notes in unlikely places:
a trail of bread crumbs to follow
right up to His door.
Today I cast a net back in time
to see if something had slipped by me.
Any sign of a summons?
It came up empty.
Today I affirmed my joy in Being.
I'm not ready to slip into darkness.
There's too much I haven't done!
My heart has too recently opened!
I have more love to learn,
more forgiveness to practice.
There's something inside me
that has yet to manifest
before Breath leaves me.

Confetti

Today I focused on getting things done
so I could laugh.
Today I enjoyed interacting with co-workers,
being lighthearted and silly...
a little bit weird.
That's when my fairy energy feels safe to shine.
My hands dance as I talk,
pulling thoughts from the ether,
shaping them into words.
Today my muse nodded in my direction,
threw ideas like confetti.
I feel so alive when I'm playful,
so connected to spirit.
So small a thing,
yet it lifts my heart
and the world feels more buoyant,
transformed like the glow of a match
kissing a candle.
Everything shifts.
It's all there waiting --
Laughter lets in the light.

Poop and Peanuts

This was a day to prepare for snow:
Impending white blooms borne by clouds.
This was a day of stomach cramps:
An unhappy belly.
What the hell.
This was a day I stayed close to the toilet.
Not close enough sometimes.
This was a day of errands.
I thought I was organized,
but I forgot peanuts.
What the hell.
This was a day of a lot of "I didn'ts"
I didn't meditate
I didn't dance
I didn't feel good.
What the hell.
This was a day I kept saying "tomorrow"
Tomorrow I'll exercise
Tomorrow I'll write
Tomorrow I'll feel better.
What the hell.

Static

Today was a day of static:
A noun meaning a staccato haze of perception
Interrupted thoughts
Misconstructions
Irritating fuzz
The acrid smell of dust burning.
Today was a day of static:
A discouraging adjective
Nothing changing
In a state of stasis
Preservation of the mediocre
The tepid
The mundane.
Where's my joy?
Today brought a ray of hope
Emanating from Shawna the Post Master.
Will memories rise from the bowels
of the Mail Recover Center?
My "come to me" beacon is glowing, fueled by faith.
Today my resistance to routine relented
a micron or so.
My radar was tuned to sloppy thinking.
Lots of bogeys showed up on the screen.