One poem per day for 40 Days!

On November 11th I began a 40 Day Yoga journey. I think that when I started this blog many moons ago it was with the intention of writing every day for 40 Days.

Today I found myself to be very inspired and wrote 3 poems! That means I could catch up on November 12th, 13th and then have a poem for today, the 14th.

And so, my pledge is to write and post one poem per day for 40 Days.

November 12th:

"Sweeping Up Angels"

Clearing space

Crumbs and dust

Have left their trace

Upon the places we have gathered.

First sift through

Removing the tiny plastic building blocks

Of creation that You,

Beloved children, seem to spew from your pores.

Open closet doors

Finding secret filth cast aside

Left behind for another time where more

Energy is available.

Grains that have fallen from the table

Sprinkled amidst the debris

Food, hairballs, and specks all capable

of building a new empire.

And there, shining amongst the old, tired

particles...a sailboat and the Queen

Two discs refracting light like fire

That shines on a cold dark night.

I gently save them from the plight

of cheerios and dead skin cells

Then place them with the crystals right

Where two Angels might just rest awhile. 

November 13th:

"Residue" 

Refresh. Renew.

I love True! I do.

So why does a plague of uncertainty

Return endlessly to torture me?

I awoke! ...At least some (what?)

Feeling, for the moment, much less glum :D

Filled with potential to rain torrential 

Creativity and Love upon this Earth!

I am rebirth: reincarnation and eternal damnation

Rolled and moulded into one beautiful...

I (eye?)...am Holy, Wholly, woe-ly and slowly...

coming to the conclusion that certainty is an illusion.

Nothing stays the way it was. 

Consciousness is in flux, evolving as do we...

I see, I see...Mind is Alive!

For me to truly thrive

I can let those horses ride!

Without bridle, without reins.

Dancing boldly with wild manes 

flying in the wind.

Free.

I begin to see. 

Control of this cosmic mind is not mine to claim.

Whirling in beautiful concentric circles

Destroying any notions that time could possibly be linear...

But it is!

When we measure it, in minutes, in pauses.

Perhaps I best write myself a constitution with few clauses:

Your constitution is impeccable: change nothing.

The remnants of smoke that intermittently cloud Reality

Offer opportunities to breathe clear again 

To wake, to shake free

Releasing suppositions of what should or should not be.

What is Real? Baby? 

It is certain that you are, and also, please remember, me (too).