Category Archives: BIRTH. LIFE. DEATH

Autumn Mabon


23 SEPT 2019

Ode to Autumn

~~~~~ 

She makes a moist entrance

Still feeling the Summer green of herself

with blooms filling her senses 

And harvest already giving to be received

~

She is a little care-less, a little nonchalant 

in the how soon of spicing us up in russets 

And golds, in the heart of her fire reds

and the becoming orange of green not

yet ready.

~

She will become a stellar show of her season 

of radiant bliss in the ever ongoing cycle 

of her presenting vivid aliveness

She returns unattended 

She is a follower after all.

~

Sister Summer begs her to stay 

in the green and blooms

Asking for her to wait a little

longer in the predictability of her

coming around again dressed to kill

~

The renegade in her thinks to hold

the season at bay from the request

of her beloved SisterGreen and Light

Letting the heat and rains linger

In the verdancy and lusciousness

~

And then…the inevitable rises in her

She asks the Sun to take his distance

And the trees to make way for quietude

in their letting go of summer days

She invites in the glory of the harvest 

~

The sweet crunch of apples.

The rake of Summer’s release

The cool winds rising from the north

And the hungry want of Winter’s breath

Nipping at wings to to fly south

~

Falling into the  quietude of regeneration 

to rise again in the inevitable cycle of 

Birth, Death, Life in patterns repeat

Calling you to surrender, let go, release

Deepen into the peace of silence

~

~

copyright jeanne adwani

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Filed under a sacred life, AUTUMN, BE HERE NOW, BIRTH. LIFE. DEATH, EARTH CHANGES, EARTH WISDOM, Geezer Girl, jeanne adwani

IT’S NOT TIME YET


28 April 2019

A pantoum 

~

It’s not the time yet for leaving

There is still breath and sight

Still the gathering of thoughts

In the construct of living

~

There is still breath and sight

And so much more to share, to say

In the construct of living

In the coming of unbearable loss

~

And so much more to share, to say

Heart to heart exchange, a steady beat

In the coming of unbearable loss

When the Infinite has you again 

~

Heart to heart exchange, a steady beat

The feel of false permanency rising

When the Infinite has you again

And your soul travels the vast unknown

~

The feel of false permanency rising

A surrender of gravitational pull on life

And your soul travels the vast unknown

Having to let go of this mundane living

~

A surrender of gravitational pull on life

As the Divine essence of Spirit calls

Having to let go of this mundane living

These pleasure of physical reality releasing

~

As the Diving essence of Spirit calls

Still the gathering of thoughts

These pleasures of physical reality releasing

It’s not the time yet for leaving

~

~~ cc jeanne adwani

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Filed under a sacred life, ASCENSION, BIRTH. LIFE. DEATH, jeanne adwani, NAPOWRIMO

The Ending is a New Beginning


Day 30… the last day of National poetry Month.

Thank you to those who have followed and read my work.

I deeply appreciate that.

As is my favorite style of poetry, I give you a pantoum.

I will be gathering my pantoums for a poetry book.

Stay tuned.

~~~~~~

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BE HERE NOW

A day comes to sunset, a story ends, a loved one dies.

A relationship meets its closure, a beginning finds it’s end

And endings make a place for a new possibility

Life is woven in spirals, cycles of starts and finishes

~

A relationship meets its closure, a beginning finds its end

The in-betweens hold the reactions, the bitter and the sweet

Life is woven in spirals, cycles of starts and finishes

Curves and turns, betrayals and losses, the heart breaks

~

The in-betweens hold the reaction, the bitter and the sweet

The re-start is out of reach in the crush of life’s take away

Curves and turns, betrayals and losses, the heart breaks

A new day gives rise out of the dark night

~

The re-start is out of reach in the crush of life’s take away

And endings make a place for a new possibility

A new days gives rise out of the dark night

A day comes to sunset, a story ends, a loved one dies

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Filed under a poem a day. Michigan poet, a sacred life, BE HERE NOW, BIRTH. LIFE. DEATH, lesbian poet, MICHIGAN POET, NAPOWRIMO, national poetry month, pantoum, Uncategorized

THIS DAY ASKS TO BE WRITTEN A CERTAIN WAY


DAY 12  National poetry Month.

dove.germany

This day asks to be written in a certain way

Resistance makes a plea of discord

And brain chaos finds its way back on track

if only to give into the ‘certain way’ to be over it

Finish with this day that has only just given rise

~

It’s memory history that defines the lay of words

How death’s stalk took two lives on the exact day of one year

Between the other, while Spring stretched her waking

and the two of you gave in to sleep eternal

~

On this day, this very day that calls up an ode

a story, a simple verse that can not be denied

For you are forever in the bones of this body

Forever a picture of yesterdays remembered

~

And there is a must have of celebration

Acknowledgement of how life comes and gives

and seems to end in that final breath taken

In how very gone you are in this life.

~

There can be no resistance to that call

Cause it’s a time clock inside that spills

Out the alarm of your passing to be recalled

To sit in the heart’s pulse of the ‘who’ of you

~

Of love lost and found, of rough edges

slightly smoothed and how a want to make connection

held so many distractions and avoidances.

And still, on this day of remembrance

~

I let you both in in the way I can hold you

In my heart to give the words to this day

That need saying to honor you

I love you

Till we meet again

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Filed under a poem a day. Michigan poet, BIRTH. LIFE. DEATH, national poetry month

writing for 45 minutes, 4 Feb 2015 A GIANT RAMBLe AbOuT aging.


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This is a bleary picture of me at my 67th birthday.  Bleary is good.  LOL.

Ok… here it goes.  this is what happens in 45 minutes when I sit to write.  little if no editing.

8:37

There is an age you reach where the thought of how many years you have left to live is something you decided you’re not going to consider.  There isn’t half as much left anymore.  Maybe not even a third as much.

Middle age has passed, even the “new middle age” has passed.  ( Who determined that anyway?) and the hope for a new middle age, if we live to 150, is unlikely.

How many years have ya left  if you’re over 60 and counting?  That’s right people over 60, not so many.  AND, it’s a good idea to get good with that, and not calculate to often out into the not-so-far decade away or so, cause that can roll you over on your back like bad dog and make you feel all kinds of vulnerable.

And, how about how time is going REALLY fast.  Wasn’t it just Christmas last week?  Is it only 6 weeks till Spring? Thank God for that.  It will be Spring tomorrow and you’ll wonder, “Didn’t winter fly by?”

I’m a Hairdresser/Artist. I look in a mirror all day long at you and me, watching myself and you age.  And… I’m going to work till my hands can’t move and I’m cutting myself more than your hair.  I know that sounds scary and grim.  And we both know that’s not gonna happen like that, right?

And, how can I imagine retirement?  I am not one that has embraced the journey of retirement in those traditional ways: saving, gathering, etc. etc.  I live to the full extent of my existence in the moment; saving little and celebrating  life moments as they present themselves.  Really, it’s all a gamble, and I have been called to the gamble of BE HERE NOW. (Thanks Ram Das)

When I get off the train of ‘Now’, a little bit of terror creeps in.  I hate terror.  Who likes it?  NO One.  That terror involves questions and sentences like this running through my head…

“What are you thinking? You have no retirement, no real extra cash, no children to buffer you, (I never wanted children, so that one isn’t really relevant).   You live by the seat of your pants and you’re getting old.  Your knees hurt, you got stuff that you can’t identify that comes and goes.  WHAT the fuck are you thinking you old geezer girl?  You’re gonna have to just drop dead one of these days and hope it doesn’t hurt too much and there is no lingering.  And that no one will have to coddle and fawn all over your dying pathetic body for too damn long.”

I let myself have these’s projections.  They happen more than I like to have them happen.  Then I look around as all that I have that I am grateful for, and let those pleasures and joys fill me up and push away the fear.  Future stuff has yet to happen and why linger there?  I have no idea.  Do YOU?  What good is it to fall prey to what we thing is going to happen as opposed to what is happening right now?  How can we make that good? WE have the power to change our attitude right now.

None of us get outta here alive in the physical sense of things for sure.  My spiritual path says I am an Infinite Being and Love is all there is. (Me and the Beatles are tight)   With that said, I’m having some trouble with this aging thing.  I do not wish to linger in the negative zones of that ‘thing’ as it creeps in to smother my good humor and well being.

Don’t think for one minute I am above having a good ol’ face lift.  It’s a respectable thing to do.  And we have the science and the Way to get looking younger, like how we feel inside.  I feel 30.  I do!  How about you?  And that face in my mirror is not a face of a 30 year old. NO it isn’t.  Graceful.  Nice one.  Gracefully aging.  I’m trying.  I am, I mean it.  And if I had the money to spare, I’d get a little nip n’ tuck.  I hope you still honor and respect me for these wants of mine.

My 45 minutes is almost up.  Thanks for listening.  You are kind.  Now you know a little more about me and how getting old sucks on some levels and is wondrous on others.

Here are the wonders.

I know a lot of shit.  And I have lots of wisdom

I’m still highly creative

I believe in magic.  I always have

I love my friends and family

I know I am loved deeply.

I am still learning things everyday

I love life

I think the Seasons are glorious even when I complain of too cold or too hot

The Earth is magical

I am a Mystery unfolding

I love feeling 30 inside this 67 year old body.

There is fabulousness in living in the moment.

I close with giving you a Haiku

~~~~~~~

Bringing in my Breath

Wonder and magic fills me

Dancing on the edge

9:22am

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Filed under AGING, BE HERE NOW, BIRTH. LIFE. DEATH, EYES WIDE OPEN, HAIKU, HEALTH AND WELLBEING, MAGICAL THINKING, WINTER.

SOLAR RETURN again… a haiku


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A Solar return

Age moves old on bones

Winter’s chill illuminates

 

Winter’s chill illuminates

Hail the days gone and to come

Deep freeze till Spring time

 

Deep freeze till Spring time

Seeds sleep in the winter nights

The silence holds peace

 

The silence holds peace

Rebel life gets in the way

Days slip to the wind

 

Days slip to the wind

Seeds sleep in the winter nights

A Solar return

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Being silent… listening


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Chill lays a damp rest on my exposed flesh.

Morning moves with the swift flight of birds

ascending with the Sun.

What is re-born sits with ringlets  of scattered

morning white tumbling, breathing.

With those two crows that take watch in the

corners of these eyes that have seen six decades

There is a rightness to this with a hand

extended into the wet dirt, moving centuries

around in the stirring of life up again.

Burying it closer to the surface this time

where green finds her rest and scattered

blooms come again because they must

The coffee is bitter in the sweet of the must have.

Inhaling the moist morning with the waft

of lemon and citronella to ward off the bitting.

A rapid scold comes from the tree tops speaking

in a foreign tongue familiar like music without

words that give a feel, a pulse, a cadence known

without remembering why.Telling the story of the

moment with absolute clarity.

There is no wrong in the want to carve my

initials across this land.  Lay some bit  of

myself in the claim of where I’ve been and

where I am.  The safety of it is illusive, dream

like, a fugue on this Earth Path of my foot-

prints shallow and deep along the soft and

hard ways finding home.

Sitting here in the damp of this rising

morning.  Being silent, listening.

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