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ANNIE'S POETRY PAGE
index Circle Dance Moon I worship the Moon - by Rumi Mabon 2004 Surfing the Bore Love Remains Qualities and Activities ************************************************ CIRCLE DANCE MOON 25 January 05 The moon is wearing her circle-dance skirt, A tie-dyed flare of orange and purple-green Flung around her full beaming face. The clouds are lit with her radiance As she steps within the joyful music of the windy night. Bare trees reach up wildly, tossing in the wind, stretching black fingers trying to touch the energy, catch the magic, kick-start the leafage Back into spring. Dancing in the bright, starlit February sky The full moon is utterly, utterly happy, And utterly, utterly silent. Her smile is the smile of one filled with God At one with her universe Drawing up the tides and sending down the light Just as she is, no tricks, no need to be clever, Radiant, full, the perfection of reflected light. Tonight, I will wear my circle dance skirt, A tie-dyed flare of orange and purple-green. The circle will be lit with my radiance As I step within the music, whatever it will be, And outside the night will be frosty and starlit. She is outside, dancing, and I am inside, dancing, She will draw up my tides and hold them at the still point So that I may be utterly, utterly happy And utterly, utterly silent At one with the universe No tricks, no need to be clever, Just radiant, full, the perfection of reflected light. ************************************************* The year melts imperceptibly through glacier-Winter gathers speed through fragile, fecund Spring Climbs compulsively through the busy Summer And stops at the top: Mabon: the End and The Beginning. The End: Autumn Delivers. In autumn, everything is as it is. Nothing else to grow, nothing else to harvest. No more effortful striving, no more disappointed expectations, no need to acknowledge failure, Just time to sit and be. Everyone knows it rains in autumn. Relax into awareness, allow connections, insight arises. See what is there. The Beginning: every gardener knows, this is thinking time, preparing time. Time to strip and remake beds and sheds, plan the plantings, Choose the seeds, consider the paths, observe the patterns, Learn from experience. Time to look into the dark, slip into the Dreamtime, hear the ancestors, shape the next step, face the future. Autumn glows, is regal, shining, rich, benevolent. When autumn comes, the garden wears a medieval wealth of gold and purple, Rich colours of harvest: gourds and quince, blackberry and pumpkin, And the deep purple and red of dahlia and nasturtium. Tired stubble fields are stitched by small red tractors flying silver streamers of gulls, Ploughing the shoreline between dull straw and shining waves of dark ploughed earth. The hedgerows are jewelled with rosehip and hawthorn: the slow-revealing skeletons wear diamond-dripping cobwebs flung carelessly over stalk and twig. The sun is low and bright, it captures golden poplars against its bright blue sky, The bronze pheasant in the purple seeding grasses, the shape of deer revealed in early mist. Autumn’s beauty is breathtaking. It takes you by storm, stuns you with light, stops you in your tracks With the wonder of change, the reliability of beauty, The Turning of the Wheel. |
*************************************************** I would love to kiss you.
The price of kissing is your life. Now my loving is running toward my life shouting, What a bargain, let's buy it. Rumi ************************************************** Spring Giddiness
Today, like every other day, we wake up empty and frightened. Don't open the door to the study and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument. Let the beauty we love be what we do. There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground. Rumi ************************************************** |
| SURFING THE BORE Flood-torrent. Ice-thaw. Snow-melt. A raging river Has ripped away the icy moraine Of my feelings. An underground volcano Has vomited molten lava From the dark, cold sea-bed Of my feelings. A tsunami Has smashed the coastal defences Of the small, in-season tourist resort Of my feelings. I am dying here! It happens. I am being re-born. In the meantime Please make allowances. I apologise for any inconvenience Or crap. Please continue to supply The clean drinking water, The level dancing-field, The healing balm of gentle kindness To this ravaged, ravished, Storm-tossed piece of flotsam Until normal transmission has been Finally turned off, and replaced by the Quietly-singing Lightly-dancing Wysiwyg broadband real-time Being-Here-Now Melting & Merging Flow. 29/12/05. Xmas when the tsunami hit SE Asia. |
Love is not hopeless Nor can it ever disappear. No matter how difficult the circumstances How far apart in time and space, How awkward the mind and body, Love remains. Let not this day be a day of mourning and separation, But rather a day of welome. Celebrate the return to unity, Undifferentiated love, Love glowing in the heart And in all the space around us. In our daily lives and in our Sacred spaces, Love remains. Youlgreave Easter Mar 30th 2005. On the Death of my Mother. |
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I went walking in the lane And crystal-rainbow drops On cobwebs in the hedgerows Caught my heart, And I watched the no-sound Of silent rain-drips Enter, one by one, a shining puddle, And ripple out, and disappear. And the light – the light was so tender, Clear, delicate, luminous, That I thought of a mother holding her baby. Qualities, like diamond necklaces found Scattered on the footpaths of daily life. Activities, precise and slow and delicate Like water slipping into water with no splash. Wisdom love, vast and spacious, Tolerant and infinitely kind, Waiting until reality can be revealed Without hurt. How can I speak my gratitude for this Most precious, most exquisite of gifts? Only the quiet mind sets about replicating The immaculate perfection of the heart-instruction. |
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| I WORSHIP THE MOON - RUMI I worship the moon. Tell me of the soft glow of a candle light and the sweetness of my moon. Don't talk about sorrow, tell me of that treasure. Hidden if it is to you, then just remain silent. Last night I lost my grip on reality and welcomed insanity. Love saw me and said, I showed up. Wipe your tears and be silent. I said, O Love I am frightened, but it's not you. Love said to me, there is nothing that is not me. be silent. I will whisper secrets in your ear just nod yes and be silent. A soul moon appeared in the path of my heart. How precious is this journey! I said, O Love what kind of moon is this? Love said to me, this is not for you to question. be silent. I said, O Love what kind of face is this, angelic, or human? Love said to me, this is beyond anything that you know. Be silent. I said, please reveal this to me I am dying in anticipation. Love said to me, that is where I want you: Always on the edge, be silent. You dwell in this hall of images and illusions, leave this house now and be silent. I said, O Love, tell me this: Does the Lord know you are treating me this way? Love said to me, yes He does, just be totally… totally… silent |
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