Category Archives: PEACE

Fear Or LOve… Boston, Texas, The World.

18th day, NaPoWriMo


I thought I might not ‘go’ to the tragedy of Boston, of Texas, the spots of angry fire, and fear, with all the pain of it, the anguish of it.  My inclination is to seek some joy past the horror and grief.  To not join in with the fear, to not feed it the food of my angry/sad feelings and still feel deeply, passionately, without avoidance.  Fear is not what I wish to feed.  And feelings are not for my evasion; necessary to have so they don’t build in my body and create a whole other kind of pain.  And in this mix of emotions stirred by personal and world events, I invite grace and gratitude, joy and peace, into the cauldron, while I stir in love and the spirit of Oneness that I believe we all share in.


I will not feed the fear

In the having of feelings

that get drench and expose

burned and seared with the



Comprehending the allowance

of loss as it fills me

letting in what will tear

away in that vast salty

ocean of endings


Grateful for the salty

bouncy in the fear of

drowning rising to the

surface a buoy bobbing

seeking a safe shore


I will not feed the fear

in the having of feelings

that need to be felt

in the vulnerability

of living love expressively


Of rising to an angry

cause to pray away

unfathomable acts of

violence that feed the

fear and fearful


I will have my


I will have my


I will have my


I will have my



I will have all of me



I will feed forgiveness





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Spring Daisy Jones… Character study #2

SPRING…So it is, even without the green and bloom we’re all eager for.  The pattern of the seasons says so.  The day light settles between the Winter and Summer Solstice.  Persephone will walk the land giving of her verdant gifts.  Blooms Are on the way…




Spring Daisy Jones

She wore her name well, held to the day of her birth

when the pattern of the season gives it’s light just right

and the good bye to the cold and chill makes it’s stand.

The only child from the womb of Violet Jones, who was

long passed the age of birthing when love found her ready.


A red hair child born on the first day of Spring 63 years ago.

Hard to know if her Momma’s flourish for dressing her

All in soft greens, with hand made flowers pinned to her

dresses stuck to her for a life time, or being a child of the

60’s, when hippydom held her to the cause of Peace and Love,

Forever a Flower child with a treasure chest full of hand made

flower pins, and fragile wreaths made from garden blooms for her hair.


Her coffin is wide open.  She lays on a bed of moss green velvet.

With that treasure chest of faded flowers filling the spaces around her

I pass, looking down at her alabaster face still holding kindness

And years of good living ready to rest into the body of the Earth.

A wreath of fresh flowers crowns her faded red curls.

Her folded hands hold a peace sign and a heart.

John Lennon’s music plays in the background and I cry.


Spring  was every season of her life, ever a give of her blossoms

A living bouquet of a life ever in bloom and greening.

She came home to die, to be with her family, her old friends.

To wrap her memories around us, to pin us with her flowers,

Hug us with her Love.  To remind us to always give Peace a chance.





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Peace took a tumble in the morning

After months of making a presence

For public consumption, situated

Calmly against the window pane,

Pointing South, Peace took a dive.

A hard hit to the wood floor.


The slam crack was startling

Loud in fact, like it wanted

My attention right then and there

Which I didn’t have to give. I was busy

Unraveling my mind in cyberspace.

Where peace is hard pressed to be found


I dismissed the clamor, the strike hit

To the floor.  A cursory glance, a nod.

Probably my cat slam dunking his toy

Over there somewhere by the window.

Not to worry, not to be bothered.

Peace was the least of my worries


In the later on with it all forgotten

A passing glance catches the lean

Of Peace against the wall on the floor.

I think to pick it up, relocate the peace.

I don’t.  I leave it there.  It’s still there

Making peace with my foundation.


That seems about right in the peace

Of things.  That makes for the unity

Of wall to floor in a flip flop off

The window,calling out for a better

Place to be for awhile till I hear it

Call out to me to give peace a new place.


It will call me out for relocation

Thank God I tattooed it on my wrist

Long ago just in case Peace crashed

Somewhere and I could still have it

With me no matter where or what

Peace decided to do to get some attention.


Peace is like that.  It needs to be seen,

Heard, felt, experienced.  It wants

A Chance to fill you up and call you

Out of your revery off the window pane

On to your floor in case you forgot

That Peace and love are the answers




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