Lost River

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I was away for the weekend with nine women friends at Lost River State Park. I went hiking and stopped to paint and rest and to fight with the mosquitos. I may have gone over the legal limit on killing them. It was close to high noon and I could see their shadow on me before they landed making them easy targets. The lacy scarf seemed to protect my head and shoulders. I was among the horses going on trails and near a little old house that is no longer in use.

People hiking up to see the view were very friendly. I asked them if they would like to carry me to the view and I got different responses. I could hear their laughter as they went up the path and left me sitting under the shade of a tree. My water color paintings developed over a period of about two hours. I enjoyed a lunch of salad and dip and fruit and I had tea with me too. The tea water helped with the painting, supplying me with liquid for the paints.

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I forgot to bring my hiking poles with me this weekend. I got a new pair to use in Guatemala and they were great for going up high stairs to the Temple at the top of the building with a great view over lake Aztlan.

photo 5-86One morning after practice, with prayers, chanting and exercise, I had an hour to walk outside before breakfast. I walked on the board walks over the water and near the hotel. The local people used it to get to their work. When I used my hiking pole to block their way and greeted them they treated me to smiles from ear to ear.

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One stopped in a totally open stance and was in no hurry to go on. One young man saw what I was doing and tried to go another way but it was blocked by massive vines.

He had to face my question and he knew English. When I greeted him with my question he laughed and remembered when he had to pay a “troll toll” to get into “Burning Man” Festival on the West Coast. I asked him for a dream and he did have one for me. This made him reflect on his live and it made for a lively morning for me  and I felt alive and connected in the process. Breakfast tasted good afterwards too.

This weekend, it seemed a long time, as I waited to get my ride back to the cabin. The horses made strange with the acorns reigning down on them and became jumpy. The care taker came over to one and told him to settle down, up close and personal to his face, and he did. I sometimes do the same for myself when I think the sky is falling and it is only the acorns. I had a promise of a ride back to my cabin after the horse ride was over. I was glad to get back to tea and company.

I have been writing some poetry lately and this first one arrived last week after a period of meditation. As I got out of bed I had the impressions described below.  It stayed with me for a few mirth filled moments.

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She rolled out of bed at dawn
after practicing
so that she became
the round green in the heart
above the belly balls

of yellow orange and red
Below the blue neck roll
The rainbow balls ambled out

her body left behind

Lesser ones becoming a leg

The cushioned and the colored

In her laughing back bone.

Her face cracked into a million smile lines

What was heavy left behind on the bed.

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I also like to play with the Hail Mary and I liked another poem I read about the rosary. We always said it when we were children, with our parents lining us up between them. I am including the latin translation and I got it from my mother’s little hymn book.

Hail Mary Full of grace

Ave Maria, gratia plena

From your cathedral place

Plainly pure and blue


The Lord is with Thee

Dominus tecum

Inside in the ordinary oratory heart

Of a little would be  woman


Blessed art Thou among women

Benedicta tu in mulieribus

Stand near my gable walls

Pull me into your gaze

Star of the Sea

But not too bright

Your little blind woman


And blessed is the fruit of Thy Womb, Jesus

Benedictus fructus ventris tui, Jesus.

Creative sacred ventricle

Push from the bowl of the sacred bones

Help the birthing of a little woman


Holy Mary Mother of God

Santa Maria, Mater Dei,

Strike with lightening

Earthquake and thunder

Mother and Love

A little asunder woman


Pray for us sinners

Ora pro nobis peccatoribus.

Pick me up

Pull up into pure air

Into Oneness


A little woman

wanting some sacred heart


Now, And at the hour of our death

Nunc, et in hora mortis nostrae

To die

To dream into me and Thee

Rippling in blue

Now now

Make me a little little woman


And when I die ferry me

Across on your blue boat

In party dress

With your smiling grace

Holding my eyes

For the party you are

Hosting for me now face to face

Meeting that other little woman again

My mother

You covered in light soon after

Her flight.




Song of Love from Rose

You are a seed of love

In the deep dark earth

Kick away the dead heads

Water it

Warm it with passion

Between the upper and lower fires

Breath the air into it

Set the embers off

Charm it

Raise it into your heart

Shape it how you like

No end of flowers

You are your own seed of love

Love it up

In lovemaking

Pour it into food

Write it into your words

Hand it out in helping

Walk with love

You are your own seed of love

Charm it

Raise it

Shape it how you love

No end of brightness

In your flowering love

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I hope you are enjoying a lovely fall and that you are dreaming and that you have someone to share them with and that your inner Mary casts an eye on them and brings some meaning into them. I love to work with dreams. As one of my last clients said “They can be slippery.” I will be happy to work with you to pin them down. Love from Rose.










About rlongwort

Licensed Professional Counselor. Dream specialist.
This entry was posted in dreams, poetry, Virgin Mother Mary, Watercolors and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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