The Sun makes its great arc across the sky.

It’s satisfied with a background position,

And no one hardly bothers to offer thanksgiving to the Sun,

Too busy making something out of the clouds.

“That one looks like an elephant!”

“That one looks like a sycophant,

Conniving it’s way to seek us out like helpless sheep,

To see which one of us he could separate,

And steal our joy,

Kill us, or, even worse, otherwise destroy us as we yet live on.”

And we’ve chosen now to be terrified 

By a story of our own making.

And meanwhile

……The Sun.

-jenn

 The sky is full of stars in the morning.

They are turning.

They are swirling.

The light that spins from off of them

Is a dancing beam,

A team of wild horses

Pulling me apart,

Putting me back together again

To heal my heart,

My hands, my feet,

My fingers, face, my eyes.

A vision so sweet

Just outside my window

Beckons me to rise,

And come and tiptoe through the tulips of the sky.

I choose to start my day off right

So I can spin my light too,

And realize the causal way

That consciousness is not only aware,

But magically making things happen 

Here,

And out there in the molecules of the universe.

-jenn

 This morning when I walked my dog,

When we first started off,

I heard a whimper,

And I wondered if my dog

Was hurting,

But she really seemed to want to go .

Her tail was wagging,

And she was happily sniffing .

What’s that whining?

So I thought the noise might be a squeak

From the swivel on her leash,

But as we got out into the field,

Where I could release my hound,

And saw her run way up in front of me,

And it was then I realized ,

The squeaky wheel was me,

My polyester sleeve 

Rubbing against the bodice of

My polyester coat.

-jenn

 I long to wake the sleeping mother deep inside of me,

And so I knock and knock and knock 

On the door of puberty.

Awake to me.

My time comes slowly. 

I see the buds of breasts are growing 

On the other girls at school.

I see the sexuality becoming real,

And yet for me my tenuous limbs

Are long and thin,

With no hint of curves appearing.

But I’m knocking, knocking, knocking, 

On the door of puberty.

Awake to me, Divine Mother.

Mother Mary, come to me.

Great Ganga, churn the Milky Way.

Open my eyes, because I see 

Greater Things still dormant in me,

A spiritual ability to be expecting,

To unfold the springing greenness

Of transcendental maidenhood

And give life to the great creative

Waiting patiently for me to be ready.

Awake Divine Mother and set me free to sail

Across the teeming, pregnant sky,

With the darting dragonfly,

And to swim with the silver fishes up the stream,

To change direction on a dream,

So that I may stay with the gracious moment where

The bears are and the mighty fir,

Where you are

When you are fully aware of me,

When the vibrations alight the Christmas tree

And a child is born,

A miracle.

Let me be a part of all this beauty,

All this peace, receptivity, and divine growth.

-jenn

 Yes we were quite left behind

Because our hearts were made of mud,

And we found we could not fly like they did,

And so we set about to cut the stones

With a device they’d used to make their thrones of gold.

We made what started out to be a monument,

But as needs often be we used it for an armory and a shelter from the storms,

And later we dubbed it “Mugdock.”

But our eyes were blue

And they fly through the starry sky,

Still chasing the who, the what, the why,

Still learning the will, the wonder, the way

With our battle cry fresh on our ruby lips,

“Ne Oublie!”

“Do not forget ….”

Do not forego.

Forgive ye, well, the debtor’s debt,

But don’t forget,

And as you troll the bogs at dawn

From a fortnight long and drawn

And see the ivy twine the walls of Mugdock’s stone,

You’re not alone.

You have your will.

The only friend, 

The only enemy to your soul.

Do not let yourself be degraded

by your own self-will.

Do not gamble and do not bet

Against your self.

Do not trifle and do not pay

For any debt you do not owe!

Ne oublie!

Do not forget 

From whence you truly came

And for what purpose…

-jenn

 I just want to be happy 

So I take time to fold my Towel 

I take time to sit down on it

And stare at the ocean 

The vast currents of consciousness 

I just want to be happy

So I take time and fold the consciousness into squares 

I throw my towel in

But I don’t surrender 

I measure the dissatisfying ways before I go and put a toe into the water

This is only my retreat

Where I am safe in stillness and in quiet

In the constant changes of the tide

I just want to be happy

So I find a way

Even in this choppy day of wind

I see the loving-kindness

Slowly 

I see

It is what wins 

And I am only here to stay

I am only here to say:

I just want to be happy 

-jenn