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“What if the world is holding its breath – 
waiting for you to take the place that only you can fill?”
David Whyte

Why, in the middle of your busy life, would you pause to read poetry?

Because good poetry points us to what truly matters, which is why I use poetry so much in my work.  A good poem offers sanctuary, reminding us of the necessity, power and beauty of contemplation.  In a world hell-bent on filling space with activity and silence with noise, this is a subversive act.  So slow down, digest a poem, let it take you by the hand.  Allow yourself be touched, even changed.  Indeed, poetry has been know to save lives.  Nuff said.  Onward!

Image: Paul Cezanne, Still life, pitcher and fruit

September 2019 ~ Coyote, Coyote Please Tell Me


Trickster, Teacher, Fool, Divine Immortal, Urban Legend, Sexy Beast, Trouble  Maker…..
survivor and creative force of nature.  Who can say what Coyote really is?  Not even Coyote!

Coyote, Coyote, Please Tell Me
What is a shaman?

A shaman I don’t know
anything about.
I’m a doctor, myself.
When I use medicine,
it’s between me,
my patient,
and the Creation.

Coyote, Coyote, Please tell me
What is power?

It is said that power
is the ability to start
your chainsaw
with one pull.

Coyote, Coyote, Please tell me
What is magic?

Magic is the first taste
of ripe strawberries and
magic is a child dancing
in a summer’s rain.

Coyote, Coyote, Please tell me
Why is Creation?

Creation is because I
went to sleep last night
with a full stomach,
and when I woke up
this morning,
everything was here.

Coyote, Coyote, Please tell me
Who you belong to?

According to the latest
survey, there are certain
persons who, in poetic
or scholarly guise,
have claimed me like
a conqueror’s prize.

Let me just say
once and for all,
just to be done:
Coyote,
he belongs to none.

By Peter Blue Cloud (1933-2011)

Coyote with feathers:  Painting by Lakota Phillips

Here is a wonderful article by Rebecca Solnit in The New Yorker:
https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2014/12/22/coyote-2

By |September 2nd, 2019|Tags: , |

August 2019 ~ The Way Of Love


In body, heart, mind – may the great unclenching commence.

The Way of Love

The way of love is not
a subtle argument.

The door there
is devastation.

Birds make great sky-circles
of their freedom.
How do they learn it?

They fall, and falling,
they’re given wings.

By Jalāl ad-Dīn Rumi (1207 – 1273) from The Essential Rumi
Translation by Coleman Barks

By |August 1st, 2019|Tags: , |

July 2019 ~ First Light


This poetic medicine will do you good.  It contains absolutely no harmful side effects.
Take any time of day or night.  Use if you want to remember what matters.

First Light
In the first light
I remember who rewards me for living,
not bosses
but singing birds and blue sky.

I know I can bathe and stretch,
make jewelry and love
the witch and wise woman
living inside, needing to be silenced
and put at rest for work’s long day.

In the first light
I offer cornmeal
and tobacco.
I say hello to those who came before me,
and to birds
under the eaves,
and budding plants.

I know the old ones are here
and every morning I remember the song
about how buffalo left through a hole in the sky
and how the grandmothers look out from those holes watching over us
from there and from there.

Linda Hogan, from Savings
Copyrighted material; for educational/therapeutic purposes only.

Hogan is a member of the Chickasaw Nation.  Learn more:  http://www.lindahoganwriter.com

Reflection:  What do you remember in First Light?  What happens when you begin the day remembering; what happens when you don’t?

By |July 1st, 2019|Tags: , |

Lucky’s Corner

lucky

Here’s a tasty morsel of poetic medicine from Lucky.
Down the hatch!

“Be a songbird,
not a parrot.”

Lawrence Ferlinghetti

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