Tag Archives: MYSTERY

Her Magic


day 13… Ok so the prompt from NaPoWriMo.net.  is about magic.  Could be good, bad, ugly, or any combo of all that and then some.

                The thing is for me Is, I’m pretty much thinking’ it’s all magical in around me and thus, whether it seems so,  I’m busy feeling and writing about everyday magic anyway.  There’s magic, mystery, wonder, phenom, grooving around us all the time.    It takes noticing it.  It takes feeling it and moving with it. 

                 I suppose, it depends on your definition of ‘magic’.  There are as many definitions as there are people who want to define it.  The ‘taking for granted’ of breathing, speaking, and your heart beating, your mind grasping the roll of words strung together in some sort of sense, doesn’t seem magical, doesn’t seem much of a wonder.  And, there it is… incredibly awesome, stunningly wondrous.

Her Magic

Her breath is a sweet caress on my skin

The press of her nakedness to mine

speeds our heart’s beat together

Stirs my every cell

Awakens me to the mystery of Love


I feel a gasp, a desire with her finger tips

soft, slow, hard, deep, tender, aching

I pray her whispers of Love will never

cease, and that the breath of her will

be of my soul’s infinity


I fill my senses with her scent

The taste of her is honey and frangipani

Swimming in her eyes is a deep

dive, into the  darkest emerald sea

Oh, to let her Siren call have all of me


What else can it be call but magic

A wonder, a mystery, a phenom

stirred together in the cauldron

of my womb and heart

A witches brew of elements


A perfect blend of love’s desire

This creative brew of Alchemy

The unlikely, stirred into the

improbable, a mystery held

in the heart of Infinity

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Filed under Infinity. ONeness, jeanne adwani, Jeanne Beauchamp, NAPOWRIMO, national poetry month

DISTRACTION … a pantoum

2012-10-12 10.35.13

Distraction leads the Way to far away

Not for the grass to be greener

In the over there on that other side

Once there looking back to where you came from


Not for the grass to be greener

It’s more being pulled away from the moment

Once there looking back to where you came from

Yearning to be in that place  before the muse arrived


It’s more being pulled away from the moment

Maybe that moment held too much need

Yearning to be in the place before the muse arrived

She is an airy wisp of dreamy want


Maybe that moment held too much need

Some moments are like that in the working through

She is an airy wisp of dreamy want

She will hold you close once she has you


Some moments are like that in the working through

In the over there on that other side

She will hold you close once she has you

Distraction leads the Way to far away



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head in the clouds


I lay in the deep grass with my head in the clouds.

Filling on the smell of green, swimming in a sea of blue

The way from here gathers first in the roots

Drinking deep of dirt and moist

In the push through earth in the up and out

With the Sun a blaze in his Siren’s call

Willing the green, and branch to reach

past the surface to the wild world relentless

Fed on the light and rain, with clouds that

look like the face of the Creator smiling

That smile that only the Creator has

As I lay here body deep in green

blue sky high figuring how grounded

I really am and when I can give myself

completely to the Light that brought me here

in the first place and catch the next

magic carpet cloud ride straight to Heaven

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Mornin’.   I wrote the poem before I write this.  I have so much to say about curiosity, I could write a small book.  Maybe I will one of these days.    It is a trait, a way of living that I find incredibly important on so many levels.  I really would love a dialogue with anyone that wishes to be curious enough to join me in it.

peace and love people. peace and love.  And… stay curious and keep the questions rolling.




Curiosity… Forget that it killed the cat.

Or maybe the exploration of your light socket

Found what you hoped you’d never find

In the jolt up your mind to heart that gave answers

Best left uncovered, in that untruth.

Doing the Treasure Hunt of living.

Something will get you sooner or later.

Hope was at the bottom of Pandora’s Box


Life is splendid place when curiosity

Explores the corners to expands into the center

The mundane of what you see, of what you

Think you know when without questions

You story-tell all kinds of lies and foolishness

Cause you failed to ask and probe past the surface

Hoping conversation and perception would reveal the the hidden


Life wants to be known. You want to be known.

Curiosity fills the void, asks the questions

Tickles the edges to go pass the surfaces

Stirs the pot of desire that speaks to the passion

That Living and knowing is rich and it trembles

In the pleasure of being explored and questioned

A spark of desire that life is important enough

you are important enough for curiosity to find you


Live a curious life.  Let it kill you.


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This morning there was a relatively strong earthquake off the coast of California near Avalon, a southern, small city in California.

As a lover of The Autherian tale, of Avalon, The Lady of The Lake, the Knights of the Round Table, and Morgana Le Fey;  I for some reason felt a little jolt in myself.  The symbolism just sort of flooded my consciousness for a moment.  The magic of Avalon, is awakening, quaking.  The isle and lake that forged the magic in Excalibur gifted by the Lady of the Lake: what wonders great myths give symbol to.  And today, an Avalon quakes.

I thinks to me self:  What story rises again to reveal more mystery to the noticing observer?  What ‘sword’ rises up for the taking to fight fear away and give clarity to what needs to be known?  Who will lead the way?

glastonbury-tor. Avalon

This is a site that will give you a very general story of the Isle of Avalon and the celtic tale.



Hidden long by disbelief in magic that once was steeped

In tales of joust and warrior feats

An Isle of Glass, a Lady rose from the deep


In the fog the isle disappeared no ears could listen or hear

The veil be drawn tho very near

To be seen and felt with release of fear


Magic is as magic does. Tis ever present ever was

When in the quest belief does pause

The Grail still waits it must because


Tis in this quest a warrior finds beyond the fears that bind

A knowing that the heart reveals

To boat the waters where the deep can heal


A helping hand lifts from the deep awaking you from the sleep

Forgotten power to fears defeat

A sword to clear away what needs release


Oh Avalon rise again, give your magic from where you’ve always been

HIdden from our fear that we

Might be more powerful and at last we see


Beyond the veil of fog and mist to know the joy and what is our bliss

The Wholy Grail may at last be found

We are the mystery at last unbound.




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I wonder if one day, when at last words make no difference in the ‘end all Be All’ and my breath still fogs a mirrors; will my desire, want, need to write still call me forth to lay my words down?   There is an ego in me that still believes words heard in a certain way, fill certain people up into some deep knowing and understanding of the Universe around and within them. (They still do for me)   And in that filling up of mystery, or awakening, or an ‘ah-ha’ moment, something wondrous opens and unfolds in the heart that can best be described as ‘The Light of Love’.  This  connection with the magnificence of the Life we lead, and the possibility that we are all connected beyond with what seems so mundane, yet is so glorious when you really take a look around at this beautiful planet and All that shares it.


And My questions to myself is:   Who am I to think/feel that my ramblings have significance to others on their journey to find themselves how ever that finding is desired, wanted, needed?  And what if you have never felt lost, or not questioned the significance of Being Here Now?  Or you don’t really care?  Should I care about that for you when I know that you have all the answers you will ever need to find what ever way calls you up to living as the best self you can be?


I like to think/feel, I write for me, just lil’ ol’ me.  If that were so, I’d probably stop sharing on this blog with you and let this journal be stashed somewhere convenient to me so I can blabber in silence.  The truth for me is; that this is one of my Ways to give back what I have found to be profoundly amazing and spiritually awakening; to be reminded of how wonderful it is to be able to sit here and write every morning, and share that with whom ever finds themselves drawn to be here.  Thank you for your visit.    And by no means do I believe that every thing I write is full of profundity, and great Universal wisdom, as I sit here every morning waiting for some words to combine from some feeling/thought that I have, to free flow and spill out here.


I have let you in on my mornings and my heart’s desires, and my deepest yearnings for Peace, Light, and Kindness, and plenty of Laugher and Joy for everyone and everything.  I KNOw… beyond a shadow of doubt, I am One with Infinity, and that in that Oneness, I am awakening to my Divinity and Love everlasting.  I am a magical being. I am the mystery I have always been seeking.   I’m lots of fun. And, I will do my best to see the light of love and divinity in your eyes even when I am not sure I can bare to look at you or him or her.  I am connected, heart to heart even when it hurts.


Heart to heart as One

Beats together to Lightness

Cradle Loves greening


Before or after

Does not exist in the Now

Your are this moment


Believe that it is

It is yours to be seen that way

See only love’s light








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life is short, have some filthy fun

Mornin’… My friend and creativity coach mentor, Jill Badonsky, gave out a prompt for our little writer’s group on line.  It was, “Life is short and there will always be dirty dishes, so let’s dance.”

I thought, what isn’t fun about this little quote/prompt to play with?  This is what happened as I fell into the writing of it.  And, I have expanded on and edited up a little from last nights indulgence to the fall of these words.

Life’s short, pass the dirty dishes.


It’s not like I want the dirty dishes.  It’s not that I imagine life short or dirty… with dishes.  Tho’ a little ‘dirty’ in the biblical sense of things has it seductive enthusiasm with orgasmic exclamation if you dirty on it just right.

I’m pretty sure, actually, I’m positive, that life is only short when placing a time on the length of potential living.  Dirtying a life time of dishes happens in the daily experience of ingesting sustenance followed by the have to clean the mess up part of it.

Life is short, is relative to how life gets lived and how dirty you let it all become, metaphorically.  God forgive the literal mess, or make that Goddess to off the gender implications.  Or, maybe, from the stupid foolishness of bad decisions, you made manifest after an intimate meal that leads to sex. Damn those bad decisions and the dirty business that might follow.  Hope the sex was worth it.

I’m all for cleaning it up quickly.

Better yet, make life as long as possible, and make sure that getting dirty, however that feels/looks/ smells like for you, has an outcome that enhances the short life to one that is long n’ just a little filthy fun.

Leaving out the dirty is dull and wrong.

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WAT?  The last day of August.   Soon it will be the ‘Perfect’ full moon in Pisces at  9:58am.  Two hours from now.  Two full moons in one month =Blue Moon.  What ‘fullness’ do you feel?  How do you fill full your cup of life and pour it out?


Pisces invites you into a mystery, to feel and look beyond what the surfaces of life show you.  Flow into your deeper intuitive senses, allow what may feel unlikely, or too mysterious to have a few moments with you to see/feel if indeed it isn’t as ‘out-there’ as you might have considered, OR, it is too much and full of false hope and it’s time to let it go.  Follow your own discernment from your heart.    Dream the impossible into being.  Imagine your magic.

The swell of sleep fills me up

as the moon rises, leaving a

tower of glimmering light

across the lake.


I stand outside to receive

I inhale the night sky

deep blue caresses me


The moon beam shimmies

up my body bathes in light

Reminds that I am full


Perfect in my moments

when Light is my lead

and the patterns of nature


Claim me to the Earth

and Sky and I am

the Moon’s dance


Full up with myself

Giving Light across

the heavens and Earth


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mornin’… yawn and sippy that big ol’ cuppa Joe.  first day of Art Fair and the heat may… May ease up for those poor artists.  It’s a New Moon beginning early tomorrow in Cancer,  Here is a link to my favorite Astrology website giving some insight into this New Moon.  I think you can give it a click and get right on over there.



Moon Flower rising…

Dark night standing.

See what you want

from the inside out.

Pushing for release

of old habits that hold

hard to the lay it down

and the let it all go.


The body remembers

when the quake of want

shimmered and took

what it wanted in the

dark night’s hunger

Of the push to feel deep

coming together


It’s a dark night push

A New Moon rising

from the inside out

Give away the old habits

of lost yesterdays and

unknown tomorrows

Lay down with love

and let it all go

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Howdy… pause… returning to coffee pot.  Back now… aaaahhh. you know what I’m doing… pause.. sippy…black gold rolling in.


Alrighty… today the NaPoWriMo prompt is to take a poem already in existence and write it in opposition to what it says.  What?  Yep… I kinda like this prompt and I’m going to take one of my own previously rambled poems and see how I can change it.  eek…   OK… I change my mind, I just took a gander at a few of my poems and it’s seems like too much work to go for one of those.  


So..I’m gonna go for W.B. Yeats… like that will be easier, Right?  I’m not even sure I get this poem.  


tho’ as I have now read it several times, I have to say I believe it is about Jesus being crucified and buried.  I really don’t know I just copied it and pasted it here spontaneously.  Here is his and below will be mine.. 


The Magi  
by W. B. Yeats
Now as at all times I can see in the mind’s eye,

In their stiff, painted clothes, the pale unsatisfied ones

Appear and disappear in the blue depth of the sky

With all their ancient faces like rain-beaten stones,

And all their helms of silver hovering side by side,

And all their eyes still fixed, hoping to find once more,

Being by Calvary’s turbulence unsatisfied,

The uncontrollable mystery on the bestial floor.


The realist… by Jeanne Adwani


I can’t remember the last time I looked beyond myself

Out there to the loosely, devil may care brilliance of them

Fully presence before me radiating nonchalance in the night

I forgot all that youthful glory, shimmering like a full moon

Self centered, fresh faces, know-it-alls, the world their oyster

Seeing it all for the first time, reveling in the wonder

Calvary’s loss, a distance reverberation to their grab of the world

That makes each moment a thrilling mystery of a Universe unfolding


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