Staples of Life


Photo by Max Malloy, curtesy of Pinterest.

Staples of Life

Food?
Water?
Light?

For the warrior of old
Chia was his sustenance
Now with innumerable grains
Some so old like amaranth, unknown

For the arid desert nomad
A palm on the horizon, a vision of hope
Now water, flat or sparkling
And in any flavor sought

The shepherd into his night
Lead by the galaxy of stars
Today with the neon lit skies
Some have lost the savoring of dawn

So what now remains
As the staples of life?
What is it, without which
We cannot survive!

Conditioned to strive
For fame and fortune
Placing prosperity before responsibility
Lost is man

In the battle
The mirage
The day’s toil
Leaders, soldiers, all men
Muddle in circles

The greatest of misfortunes
Has befallen mankind
For he has no answer
To what sustains his own life!

At times, man is forced to face
His dichotomous humanity
For some a choice
For most not

When stripped naked
Of the labels, the roles
The doing and undoings
The staples of life
Emerge from the core

Humility or pomposity
Vulnerability or defensiveness
Compassion or suppression
Gratitude or greed

Wait not for the unraveling of your life
Embrace your core
And claim
The grandest of staples
Fit for this life

Simplest of Thanks: Gratitude

At no other time in existence
Has there been a world of such abundance
Where we have them all
Choice, access, immediacy.

So, how hard is it to be grateful?

“You can be anything you want”
“Where there is a will, there is a way”
Philosophy to preachings
Man is the almighty!

So…How hard is it to be grateful?

Gratitude now linked to the tangible
Objects and materials
Acquisitions and conquests
Talent and masteries.

Yet the most sublime features
Sustaining our existence
The true wealth of mankind
Diminished to being taken for granted
Forgotten, dismissed
At best at the bottom of the list.

Requiring ownership and rsponsibility
Value to enable preservation
Is the air we breathe
The ground that hold us
This planet we all share.

Perhaps deeper still
The constant repair and re-birth of each living substance
The invisible atomic and cellular exchange
The very life source
Sustaining those things we enjoy.

Yet we abuse, even destroy
These majestic elements
Lost in our ignorance
Our pride, greed
Our righteousness.

Gratitude, I pray
Wake me,
Wake in me
So tomorrow can be
As fruitful as intended
By the Master designer.

 

Original art by Tejal Patel.

Returning Old Friend

Left guessing each morning
As the night sky lingers,
Sun rising faster elsewhere
You tease your arrival.

Tickling the leaves
At the tips of weighted branches,
Sway is soft, sometimes brisk
Ghost-like you change the air.

Mid morning telling
With full force brightness,
Your are not quite ready
To come and stay.

Waiting for your signs
With warm hues of amber and burnt orange,
The longing deepening
For what only you can deliver.

Trees will be crowned
With jewels to be shed,
Giving comfort
And rustle to my feet.

Fall you arrive
Bringing time to reconnect,
As the hearth becomes
The gathering spot.

Time for reflection
Three quarters in,
The year almost done
What’s happened? what’s yet to be done?

Lists never completed
Bewildering and unforgiving,
Instead let’s give thanks
To each day, each season.

Thank you my old friend
You teach how to shed,
Keep gratitude close
And revive for seasons to come.

Hardest Love

Learning to love
The ‘hardest’ person
In your life
Will be The greatest achievement.

To love this ‘hardest’ person
Means to Accept
Their weakness
Their faults
Their idiosyncrasies.

To love this ‘hardest’ person
Means to Forgive
Their choices
Their mistakes
The pains that are carried.

To love this ‘hardest’ person means
To show kindness in their loneliness
Share laughter in their sadness
Support their efforts
Acknowledge their concerns.

So begin now
To Love, Accept and Forgive
This ‘hardest’ person,
As it is none less
Than You, yourself!

This task appears easy
In this ‘me’ world
But who is it that we love?
The true self or the made up self?

Past the screens and barriers
Lies a tender soul,
Strong and fruitful
Locked away with but one key.

True love is this key,
With the mighty power
To release from all suffering
To embolden with courage.

So unlock this ‘hardest’ person.
Allow the potential
To surface
So love can be felt
Inside and out.

Artwork by Yossi Kotler, curtesy Pintrest.

Losing the Child

Every moment intense
With joy or discomfort.
The infant knows
Of nothing else.

Life as a child
Simple and unencumbered
Brims with adventure.
Here
Exhaustion is of excitement.

No need for bells and whistles
Nor ribbons or tassels.
Play and repeat play
Is the perfect ticket.

So what happens in all the growth?

We practice and perfect.
Becoming masters,
No longer enamored.
We call these milestones.

With crownings and honors
For drone like behavior,
These achievements a demand
Conforming to institutional norms.

With passage of time
Fatigue and age,
Perhaps we no longer
Jump, skips or dance.

Lost in this mud
Is the pure spirit of child,
The glee, the radiance,
The essence of life.

Without your childhood roots
Exist you would not,
So let the energy of old
Climb back into your bones.

Maybe then the ‘adventure’
Will not be lost,
Allowing your rise
To claim,
With the heart of a child
The aim,
To play again
In this great game of life.

The things you never thought that happen to you…

B63652E8-DA48-48DF-B6D8-515E8FA92A56

Basking in the light

You feel the sun

Did you know it comes up

Just for you?

 

Fingers entwined

Palms face to face

Perhaps as you stroll

Maybe just seated together,

That moment, it happened

Just for you!

 

Countless events

The mere length of a breath

A strangers smile

The taste of a pickle

A star streaking across the sky

Did you know they happened

Just for you

 

No premise requires

No transgressions possible

No power can deny

You just need the currency

Of being alive!

 

To know

What really happens in life

Takes no PHD

No millions or billions

No name or fame

 

So wake up to life

Capture this time

As so much is happening

Just for you!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Gift

No bow or ribbon in sight
No crisp enticing wrap
No tag to who or from where
Yet the unimaginable gift lays waiting.

Sometimes its hard to believe
This gift even exists,
That’s because it’s just not recognized,
Not seen for what it is.

Then moments arrive
Your quiet little dream
Or your deep screaming cry
Yield into form.

So what is your gift?
The subject of your dreams?
No my friends
The gift is a power.

The power to connect,
Connect and have relation
To the design within
Who hears all your ‘noise’.

So what when you feel giftless
When life is a mess
When all your efforts go astray
And defeated and alone you feel.

Remember you’re connected
Connected to the Source
And knowingly or unknowingly
We feed in the ‘noise’.

This noise, this input
Entered into the mainframe
Coded, decoded
With only one core instruction.

“Synthesize more of the loudest, most abundant input”

With little understood
This natural law, power, gift,
We misuse labels
‘Miracle’
‘Misfortune’
To explain our realities.

With a little understanding
Acknowledgement, appreciation.
We can come to recognize
That actually, all is our own doing,
Be it our dreams
Or our nightmares!

So beware what you dream for,
Snap out of your nightmares.
Focus and attend to your strengths,
Define your objectives,
And witness the majesty of designs
Create before your eyes.

Yogis in Africa

Yoga was a repeated practice and component on my recent adventure, lead by the instruction of Erin Elizabeth Young

 

27D2907C-1639-4019-B1E3-9FB42FD2B30B

 

Bandstand cabana
Kindly made available
Yogis international come together
On rainbow colored mats
Circular goddesses rise
Then dive to savasana
Egyptian salutations
Welcome almighty Sun
Seeding love, joy and life
Atop the A1 Hotel
Daring to face Mount Meru
We reach for the clouds
And dive to forward fold
Happy as clams
We clasp our hands
Then spread to warrior woman
Our strength never too far
Chirping birds surround
We perch on terrace edge
Stretching out in free dance
To reach the Tarangire plains
Above the Ngorongoro Crater
Amidst the thick foiled ridge
Sheltered by Acacias and more
Joined by creatures big and small
The sunset claims the backdrop
Making backbends a must
And finally a full circle
With morning, noon and night
Glory be to this kingdom
This gifted abode my body
And this divine privilege of existence
May I remember always
My breath
And strive to dance in its rhythm

True Mothers

BB5D52E3-086E-4B37-A950-BE6277754872

Mother Earth
Mother Moon,
Mother Sun.
Mother Earth
You spin and rotate,
At velocity I can’t even fathom
Yet I stand steadfast and grounded.
Mother Moon
With no light of your own,
You care to grasp and reflect
Silver beams for my night to glow.
Mother Sun
You’re a blazing inferno
With constant ignition,
Yet for me
Gentle rays cascade.
With your nature to nurture
Your methods do conjure
My awe, my gratitude.
Yet at times forgetting
The magnitude of this precision
This perfection.
Taking life for granted,
You resort to sending lessons,
Sometimes
Too hard to swallow.
With platonic collisions
Come tsunamis, eruptions.
With meetings of high-low pressures
Dance hurricanes and twisters.
Despite the devastation,
The restructuring,
Over the many milline and Ages
With divine intervention,
The solar system has withstood
Test of time for my here entrance.
With what has been endured,
Allows me my time.
My day in the Sun
My nights with the Moon,
With feet upon this Earth.
True Mothers of life,
I promise to honor,
Respect and obey,
This glorious given life
In your kingdom,
This trifecta Heaven.
Photo curtesy of Kim Vallon posted on Pinterest.