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.
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.
One 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.
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.
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.
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
Anahata
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.
Amen
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
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.
