Reflected Light

Mornings I sit at my altar
which holds photos
of those I follow on each path
candles lit below each image
a flame reflected in each heart
which makes me smile
that being the message, after all

Radha

Its Always the Same

Its always the same

After the yelling and screaming

I settle down

into the bottom layer

the layer of waiting

the layer of knowing your love in your absence

the layer of the deep belonging of our love

the layer of time forfeited

of sometimes sad aloneness

You give me space to calm down

I give you space to be

space to have your way

space to stay away

The separation will be longer now

Its always the same

Radha

Life so Bright, so Lonely

The moon so bright last night

It lit the sky, the ground and gardens

casting its light through the window

This morning, a new bird song

The air so crisp and bright

Sun rising over the ridge

The moon so bright last night

after I hung up on you

It lit the sky, the ground and gardens

anger born of frustration

casting its light through the window

your side of the bed empty

This morning a new bird song

Frustration born of long separation

The air so crisp and bright

details I forgot to tell

Sun rising over the ridge

consumed by loneliness

After I hung up on you

anger born of frustration

your side of the bed empty

Frustration born of long separation

details I forgot to tell

consumed by loneliness

Radha

Ode to the Sun

Sun,
a piece of your light
is trapped in my heart
Escaping to shine on my path
Leaking out into my every action
Exploding in joy and laughter
Settling in my eyes, my smile

Sun,
a piece of your light
is burning in my heart
and lighting up my life

Radha

A Prayer for Friends for Mom

Do not abandon me,
O smile pressed on my lips
or surely my eyes will leak tears
barely held back by will
for here are friends
not seen for a long while
Their appearance dramatically changed
as if a cruel wind of fate
has blown over them
 and left them bereft
of their previous selves
Skin hanging on bones
Legs that will not walk
Minds that lack recognition

Shock and sadness surface
The years have been more kind to me
I grasp at understanding why
Bar the door to pity
Let me see the life and joy
that lives still in their eyes
Stay with me, O smile
that I may walk forth
in Gratitude

Radha

The hero

Life is not like in the movies
If you challenge him
the hero will not persue you
to declare his forever love
You take a risk by asking this of him
All manner of practicalities will interfere
The story doesn't always have a happy ending

Radha

Catharsis

for Dave

Feeling your absence acutely this morning
silent unnoticed tears in yoga class
allowing myself to embrace this grief

Perhaps you did not take my invitation seriously
You like to keep the possibility of a visit
 always in the back of your mind

It is something you can push against
feeling strong in your ability to resist
following your compass; a path
previously laid

While I torture myself
with self inflicted dissapointment
having let myself wander into sweet anticipation
letting go of the strong voice of reason

These are old patterns and
I have tried to change them
from my side
to bravely hold to my independent life
to be strong and sensible

But my life flows forth from the heart
and the heart is a deeply tender
yet demanding place

Radha

Yoga Return

Lying on the mat again
returning to nourishing self
Aware of every muscle, every surface touching the floor
and not .... the hollows

Now sitting poised
central channel strong ; column of silver
water flowing ; regenerating
Aware of periphery
body open, empty, soft

Softening around the breath
Filling up and up to hold
pressing the edges of being
So Full
Breathe out and empty
devoid and still
floating, thirsting for air

Deliciously awake now
poses familiar, flowing
Alive, so alive and strong

Gently energy moves out from heart
aware of others; community breathing as one

Pull back the arrow
straight over the heart
The aim is true; pure thought
Let go and claim your truth

Radha

Moments, my love

Oh, I have moments, my love
Moments where my life here, my aloneness
seem empty and mysterious
when the brightly colored dress up clothes dissolve
revealing my nakedness
The carefully controlled yearning underneath
breaks through

I find myself standing at the window
as so often in the old days
I watch the driveway for your arrival
believing you are traveling toward me
My heart and soul reach out to snatch you to me
my mind grasping for a clear picture
of your eyes, your smile

Then the phone rings
rousing me from my reverie
Your voice from so far away
I plummet like a stone falling
your telephone persona all I hold
in my hands, my aloneness

Radha

Journey to the Mother

She lies curled under the leafy green
Heart broken, she has returned to the Mother
Into the depths she travels
through the pain and darkness
Under the leaf layer, into the dirt
Roots surround her
She dissolves into the soil;
the soul of who she is and where she comes from
Held by the Mother, her tears flow
The jagged edges of her heart bleed into the ground water

Days and nights she lies there
in the cave of the Mother's belly
Until a crack of light finds its way to her
touching her eyes, her heart

She begins to stir
Slowly she uncurls, stretching out her arms and legs
as if awakening from a long sleep
She feels emptied yet nourished
Seeds have taken root in the fertile soil of her belly
Her heart no longer bleeds
With spirit lightened, she reaches up
Still the Mother cradles her soul
Tenderly it opens as the petals of a rose unfurl
Resurfacing she rejoices in the pattern of light on the leaves
the smell of newness in the spring air

Radha

Weaving Ritual

Women weaving; weaving threads
speaking out, weaving in
threads of affirmation, promise and new ways

Women gathering; weaving threads
feeding the hearth fire, inner spirit
air, fire, water, earth be here

Women praying; weaving threads
asking for guidance to weave life's threads
threads of integrity, health and compassion

Women sharing; weaving threads
working through difficult unraveling threads
come center of the spiral, calm in the storm

Women weaving; weaving threads
touching, changing, revealing
threads of sisterhood, beauty and truth

Radha

This Silence

I want to capture this silence and take it home
where human intrusions press against my edges

Here in the ranchland loudness is only the scolding of squirrels
and the sudden clanging of the sandhill crane

Silence surrounds
It seeps under the skin and creeps into the heart
Thoughts can drain away, or know their own insignificance

The mind strains for the voices within the silence
for silence has its own quiet orchestra;
the creak and groan of trees moving
the undercurrent of grouse drumming

The soul reaches out to the vastness
and is content to listen
for the birth of wind slowly gathering in the trees
to sweep over fields and be gone

Radha

Unspoken

Are you waiting for me, as older,
to call and make amends for so long ago?
Could I weave the magic of forgiveness both ways?
We are different people now, in different places
The thought of returning to this past issue
strikes terror in my heart; your spirit so strong
your clarity of what was right and wrong
and on which side you fall, no questions asked

Yet stories differ with the hearts from which they come
I seek the path of least resistance
the gentler path; the memories of our love

Radha

Retirement Meditation

The yoga teacher speaks of the thymus gland
Hands in prayer position, thumbs touching chests, we listen
Close your eyes and go there she says and I do
to green fields spread out and blue sky
to openness and serenity

Next time, thumbs pressed to sternun
I try to return there... but
the edges are all rusty
the field funneled to an end, a cliff top
I stand where the land drops away
abruptly... my heart closes in fear
Am I ready to jump ? My eyes open
What signifigance is here, I muse

I long for those green fields
that my life should be thus :
spacious, no fear
My mind softens the cliff to a green slope
Do I dare to fly here?

Radha

The Little Bird

She sits on the snowy walk
stopped in action
Her wings spread behind her
feet curled under her chest
Black beads of eyes focussed inward
or somewhere far away
As if stopping to think
As if she could take off
Fly away any moment

Yet she is frozen and stiff
No movement, no breath
I lift her gently
her head still held up
Perhaps she hit the window, I think
and hope her passage was peaceful

Radha

Siskin Winter

Feeding a flock of pine siskins, we have hung a platform next to the bird feeder but farther down, outside the low cut picture window in the living room. The tray is newly filled with seeds as slowly they arrive, first a half dozen then twice that, until suddenly the air is filled with their comings and goings. They are constant motion, hopping about on the tray, pecking and chewing, arriving and departing. They flutter, hovering in the air by the feeder, landing in ones and twos, displacing others. The larger picture is one of frenetic movement with birds flying from cedar trees to the feeding station and back, passing both directions. The ground under the window accommodates many searching the ground and snow for seeds and bits of seed. Never still for long, they line the tree branches, taking a momentary rest. Occasionally two, at feeder or tray, will challenge each other, their little bodies upright, beek to beek and belly to belly with wings opened and quickly flapping, until one relinquishes it's spot. I've seen one clear the tray of six or seven others by rushing at them in turn, until only she was left at the feast. When she flew off, the tray would quickly repopulate.

Mia, my small long haired beige cat with blue eyes and black face, is fascinated. Alternately excited and discouraged, she sits with tail switching and mouth moving rapidly making little quiet sounds. She pounces at the window glass when a bird dares to walk along the window ledge which is littered with seeds. She settles draped on the arm of a big soft chair, eyes narrowed but watching it all. Oliver, her brother, a big orange tabby sleeps on my knee, for the moment unaware of the drama unfolding. When I get up, now disturbed from sleep, he becomes an active window hunter also.

At any moment some unknown energy can cause the siskins to suddenly and all together in one syncronized movement fly swooping upwards then over to land in farther removed trees, as if led by one spirit; one great intuitive understanding. Instantly all will be still at the feeding station – not one bird. Slowly, moments or several minutes later they trickle back, first one then six until the whole vista is vibrating with their movement once again.

Putting out seed for them every day has become a pleasure and I wonder if this winter will be remembered as the winter of the siskins or will they come again next year ?

Radha

The Last Poem OHOH ( Sept 2011)

Life interferes with good intention

But perhaps this poem is late in coming

as I deemed to write of endings and sorrowful partings

Yet the closing of our time together, though poinant

marks the beginning of new times

Already some of us meet to continue the cycle;

to dance and dare and play with creation

Memories still vivid are with us

They identify us with each other as sisters

What a grand job we did with focus and care

How with confidence we invited others in,

proudly standing together

How the energy flew and the hearts lifted up with joy

Oh yes, we did our teachers proud

Not without our mentors love and care

gently guiding us in good directions

zeroing in on what was needed where

Holding her faith in us

Music too, as if from heaven,

through faithful servants supported us

Once specific memories fade, some will remain

ingrained in our very beings, infusing our lifes blood

those grounded in sisterhood

connection to each other and spirit

in knowing from that deep place

in being in that place together

Radha

Home Day

A home day today after a week of too many people and places and schedules to keep

A day to slow down and take stock
to sit longer with morning coffee, prayer beads then books in hand
to jot down ideas on " to do " lists
to feel joy watching nuthatches and chicadees
swoop down from cedars to feeder,
their little bodies so close behind the window glass

A day to tie up loose ends
to fold laundry thats been waiting to be seen again
to fill the bird feeder and return messages
to hopefully check up on those yoga classes
finally acknowledging body as temple
leaving behind a long ingrained tendency to self neglect

A day to get down to the nitty gritty
to wash the oven mitts with the rags and towels
to give the cats new litter and tend the male tabby's wounds
to refill the honey jar
watching the honey peel off the metal ladle
a translucent golden stream of blessing

A day to be a homebody
to water plants and sweep the floor
to chop up pineapple for eatting, while you juice oranges, pineapples and melon
to watch with intrigue as you save the pulp to use in bisquits
fresh and buttered they will satisfy more than a physical appetite
evoking a sense of connection to our food source

Certainly not all gets done
One day spills over into the next; an endless cycle
Yet some gain has been made
in having peace of mind, catching our breath

Radha

A Day Such as This

Occasionally we can delight in a day such as this; slowly awakening to no plans, the clock, man made keeper of time having no influence over us. Able to relax and ponder life over coffee. Perhaps we would tend to household details previously left undone.
Breakfast at noon; eggs and toast and fruit. You having deferred when first offered food, prefering instead the taste of my lips. Carrying me, housecoat clad, back to the softness of the bed, lost in each others embrace.
Later we will sit at the coffee shop a short drive away and walk by the river at dusk; hoping for pinkness to settle into the clouds. Content to hold hands in silence, we walk while the dog races ahead and back; happy to be out on the snow, eyes ever attentive to us.

Setting the Tone for 2012

For me there has always been an underlying concept that what you do on New Years day sets the tone for the rest of the year. I am sure I have implemented this idea in all kinds of ways over the years. So I thought for example, if I restarted a yoga practice today, this might become a habit that I could keep throughout the next year. However this is not at all what transpired. We had stayed up late at our own little campfire, following a most joyous global peace celebration with our dance community (Dances of Universal Peace). So, my sweetie and I found ourselves just lying in bed til late; all snuggled up with no schedule to keep. Fighting the impulse to get up several times, I found myself thinking “why not allow ourselves the blessing of a couple of lazy hours after having spent over 9 months apart last year.” In fact some of my favorite new Years day memories are of special breakfasts with friends, hanging about drinking champagne and orange juice. That too was another event for today. Dave and I had a late pancake breakfast accompanied by just that, having opened a bottle of champagne by the fire last night to note the arrival of 2012. Later in the day, while snowshoeing along the river, another thought came. Perhaps this does set the tone for 2012 and more leisure time, more time just to “be” is what I truly desire.

2012 may even bring me just that with the major transition of retirement, which will soon be upon me. Maybe that is what I should tell people who ask what I am “going to do” once retired ( I never understand the traditional questions people ask) Relax and just be I should say. Presently, I laugh at this question and tell them that at this point work is interfering with my life. I am in fact going to focus on NOT taking on a lot of new things. It could be a trap to make ones life as busy as when working, by grasping onto a whole lot of changes. The changes for me will be more subtle. My work schedule never allowed me to fully attend events that happened on a weekly basis for instance. Not being able to get to them all, I tended not to sign up. I think I will join that writers group I have never got to and probably a choir. It will be a new experience to never have to miss an event because I am working. I may do some “on call” work but that allows me the final say. I am courting the possibility of establishing healthy routines such as regular walking, reading and yoga. Sound boring ? I don't think I have ever been bored. That might even be an interesting new experience, though my mind strays to all the tidying up and organizing that this house could stand after close to 8 years of being here. And ofcourse spring will bring forward all the garden and yard projects and what a joy it will be to have more uninterrrupted time for my passion / my property.

I have been asked about travel plans and I must say nothing extravagant occurs to me. I have discovered myself to be most often a homebody, though there are a few retreats I attend yearly (and more I could consider) I am comfortable driving places in my van and also sleeping in it, and there is this valley in Montana that I have heard is so beautiful. I have friends there and in a couple of places further into Montana, so you never know. Road trips are certainly not out of the equation. There is ofcourse “the ranch” Over all our years of being together, I have never stayed at Dave's place for more than probably 4 days, and always this was followed by a long days drive home and a 7 am start at work the next day. (except for that one Christmas I flew up) Depending on his work situation I may get my chance for a longer stay and less rushed travelling. Here enters the more leisure time theme again.

So the date is chosen. This month I am slated to send in my letter of resignation and my pension application. I am excited and a little scared. After nursing for the greater part of 39 years (minus a few adventures and 2 maternity leaves) I will no longer own a job. This last job started 27 plus years ago.It has been a huge part of my life. I am also totally aware of how privledged I am, although I think fortunate is a better word. What I have in a good pension and a severance package would be unheard of for many of my friends especially those in the United States. There is a tendency to feel guilty about this situation, but I try not to look at it that way. What I feel is so much gratitude. I also know I have worked hard to reach this moment and made sacrifices to get here. So many times I wanted to quit and have more time with my children when they were young and not be tied into constantly switching between 12 hour day and night shifts. But I persevered and somehow we all adjusted, though there definitely were losses. Now it is time to rest and to enjoy the benefits gained by those many years of work. Perhaps there will be more mornings of late rising, more time for contemplation. I would like that.

Radha