Thursday, December 23, 2010

The Totem Pole



















Photo: (c) Peggy Peterson (Thanks Peggy!)

Dedicated to Ky Woolf Scott with
deep gratitude for his Gifts


Somewhere within you there is a totem pole
yawning and stretching in the first rays of
morning sunlight streaming
in yellows, golds, and blues
through splayed branch-fingers
into a quiet redwood forest glen.

Deeply grounded in plush mossy Earth,
this pole rises eighteen totem faces tall
to convene with the Sky Gods and
your Highest Self.

Ancients carved the pole from
The Great Tree
with intent and ancestral DNA
as fires and sage burned
and prayers that you would
one day understand
were offered
in abundance.

Paints of clay, shell, charcoal, and fish egg
leave little impression,
offer barely a hint
to the eye.

They once gleamed with meaning.

Much time has passed.

But this is a new day
and a new year in the relationship
of the Sun and his beloved Moon.

It is the day arrived
when prayers
will be answered.

Oh how The Great Carvers will rejoice!

It has been written –
the eyelids of even the most
weary-eyed Seer
can be opened by the heart-moistened
lips of Gratitude.

Alternating from
animal to man,
top to bottom,
the totems speak.

Raven, looking below, says:
“Thank you, I am honored
by your strength and devotion.”

Man, looking up, says:
“Trust that you are supported.”

Man, looking down, says:
“Thank you, I am honored
by your strength and devotion.”

Sea Turtle. looking up, says:
“Trust that you are supported.”

Sea Turtle, looking down, says:
“Thank you, I am honored
by your strength and devotion.”

Man, looking up, says:
“Trust that you are supported.”

Man, looking down, says:
“Thank you, I am honored
by your strength and devotion.”

Hawk, looking up, says:
“Trust that you are supported.”

Hawk, looking down, says:
“Thank you, I am honored
by your strength and devotion.”

Man, looking up, says:
“Trust that you are supported.”

Man, looking down, says:
“Thank you, I am honored
by your strength and devotion.”

Wolf, looking up, says:
“Trust that you are supported.”

Wolf, looking down, says:
“Thank you, I am honored
by your strength and devotion.”

Man, looking up, says:
“Trust that you are supported.”

Man, looking down, says:
“Thank you, I am honored
by your strength and devotion.”

Frog, looking up, says:
“Trust that you are supported.”

Frog, looking down, says:
“Thank you, I am honored
by your strength and devotion.”

Man, looking up, says:
“Trust that you are supported.”

Man, looking down, says:
“Thank you, I am honored
by your strength and devotion.”

Hummingbird, looking up, says:
“Trust that you are supported.”

Hummingbird, looking down, says:
“Thank you, I am honored
by your strength and devotion.”

Man, looking up, says:
“Trust that you are supported.”

Man, looking down, says:
“Thank you, I am honored
by your strength and devotion.”

Salmon, looking up says:
“Trust that you are supported.”

Salmon, looking down, says:
“Thank you, I am honored
by your strength and devotion.”

Man, looking up, says:
“Trust that you are supported.”

Man, looking down, says:
“Thank you, I am honored
by your strength and devotion.”

Heron, looking up, says:
“Trust that you are supported.”

Heron, looking down, says:
“Thank you, I am honored
by your strength and devotion.”

Man, looking up, says:
“Trust that you are supported.”

Man, looking down, says:
“Thank you, I am honored
by your strength and devotion.”

Bear, looking up, says:
“Trust that you are supported.”

“Bear, looking down, says:
“Thank you, I am honored
by your strength and devotion.”

Man, looking up, says:
“Trust that you are supported.”

Man, looking into the eyes
of their Mother, says:
“Thank you, I am honored
by your strength and devotion.”

And She replies with words that
she has longed for you to
truly hear:

“Trust that you are supported.”

And She looks into your eyes.

Now, it is your turn.


© 2010-2013/Jamie K. Reaser
Published in "Note to Self: Poems for Changing the World from the Inside Out." (www.hiraethpress.com)

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

Solstice Moon















Image: NASA


She is there,
moved to western sky
round and red and full
like an areola at birthing
time.

I, on my front stoop,
am riding the planet
that casts Her into shadow.

Some would say,
“for but a short while.”
Yet, it feels like the
time has been so very long,
so very long,
already.

I hear the drumming of ancients
in the meadow
by the wood.

Is it a beat of survival fears
or celestial celebration?

I check inside.

Both.

Memories arise
of the annihilations
we have witnessed.

I know where to find
the doorway
to Lemuria.

Memories arise
of the passionate love we
have made with
our heavenly bodies.

The burning bite of the
enthusiastic Sun
is of no comparison
to the patient, delicate
kisses of the stars.

Here now,
I am witness as She
surrenders -
taken and released
by Darkness.

And I love Her
in afterglow
so strong it sets
the snow alight.

As the pinking fingers
make their way,
I wonder
if in this new radiant
light
of dawn

even the Creator
will discover something
never before seen.

© 2010-2013/Jamie K. Reaser
Published in "Note to Self: Poems for Changing the World from the Inside Out" (www.hiraethpress.com)

Feel free to share. Poems are meant to move.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Blue Feathers





















Holding ever so tentatively the Blue Jay feather
in the casual stream of afternoon sunlight,
I turn it back and forth
contemplating Truth.

No pigment,
only what eye and brain
conspire to See.

Blue.

Not at all blue.

What else is boldly portraying itself
with confident illusion?

Tucking the feather behind my
right ear
draws out the impish, giggling
little tom girl of me.

Oh how she loves to play
with feathers!

And I watch her there
sitting on grass,
twirling plumes in feral rays

and I begin to count
the culturally-refracted fallacies that
she has been bottle fed:

“Silence is rewarded.”

“Boys are more important.”

“Normalcy is a requisite for love.”

“Profit should trump passion.”

“You can only love one.”

When did we all stop suckling
on the nipple of Authenticity?

Why were our rattles taken away
before we could fully embody
our own unique rhythm
into the world?

How come we learned to scream
“No! No! No!”
before being invited to play
in the joy bubbles of
“YES! YES! YES!”…?

I join her on the manicured lawn,
letting my clothed buttocks settle onto
ground that once had a different
perspective on what it was right to grow.

Drawing her into my lap with a smile
and nurturing embrace,

I whisper The Secret of Life into her left ear:

“Hold your beliefs loosely,

and always test them in the Light.”

© 2010-2013/Jamie K. Reaser
published in "Note to Self: Poems for Changing the World from the Inside Out" (www.hiraethpress.com)

Note: Blue jay feathers do not contain blue pigment. The impression of blue color results from the brain/eye processing of light refracted from the feathers.