There is a desirable light,

(There is!)

In which we might consider to choose 

To ponder upon and meditate in

And see things in their proper order

In the light of this wondrous desirable light.

There is a desirable light.

There is!

And in it we are seen to swim

As peacefully as a dolphin spry,

As equally bathed in a watery grave or all seeing eye,

Alive,

As ever the case may exist.

As equally as we could ever ask,

If something was extant or extinct,

If we could be willing to be moved

By the music of the spheres,

If we would be willing to put on our shoes,

Or take them off,

And walk ourselves closer to truth from untruth

And ask some Sage if anything in this life was real,

And hear the answer:

“There is, there is!

There is a desirable light.”

There is.

And even a buzzard that flies at its height

Is beautiful in the desirable light.

It is, it is.

There is a desirable light.

There is.

-jenn

 What if there’s thangs we don’t know about?!?!?!

Oh my!! No! Is that possible!?

How terrible!

How terrifying!

Or is that the beauty?

That in this dream,

Surprises occur constantly

To keep our journey worthy of our attention and our love.

Let’s surf the great wave of the unknown.

See where it takes us.

The Unknown may be where the only true power 

To enjoy our lives resides.

-jenn

 Quod Obstat Viae Fit Via

This poem was formed in the head of Zeus

And sprang out as Athena.

Athena! Athena! Athena!

And now she goes ahead of me

As the goddess of war and strategy,

And she smites and smites and smites until

The beat down is swallowed like a bitter pill

And no weapon formed against her will prosper!

I sing her praise as I watch her fight!

She takes the swords of my enemies

(Including my worst one, oft being myself!)

And beats them down into ploughshares for me,

So that I might plant a garden of olive trees 

In honor of her,

And offer the oil of the pressured fruit on her altar,

And scribble the notes of what I see.

These poems are important 

Memos to me of how I should be

When I grow up

And become able take a stand against injustice and indignity 

And the assaults against common human decency.

And I will return the portion of sacrifice 

For those who cannot quite stand up and fight for themselves,

(But they’re also learning…)

And Athena goes out ahead of me,

And ripples of strength and solidarity 

And echoes of her Truth and Reality

Go marching on.

Athena! Athena! Athena!

-jenn

 When I dream

I don’t care

What people say

It doesn’t scare me

Sometimes people say the strangest things

But in my dreams

I only hear it with one ear

And that ear is technically asleep 

I keep to

Myself in my dreams

I never take the situations to heart

That is the art to walking through 

The dreamscape 

I’m a stranger in that very strange land

The sand is not beneath my feet

The street is weird

The car I’m in doesn’t seem to touch the road

My load is gone

The cares of this world 

May carry on in some other place

But here my face is young and worry free

Even with monsters chasing me

Or unsavory types breaking into my home

When in Rome 

Do as the Romans do

But when in a dream

Do whatever you want to

And learn

That a peaceful dreamer’s heart will always have a home

Wherever it may wander

Even beyond the other dimensions 

-jenn

 The brassica weeds with their yellow blooms,

The WineCups, maroon, that flower here, now,

In the ancient amphitheater where Asclepius healed the sick

Are edible,

Medicinal,

Just as the ancestral plants that grew here then.

They’ve always been.

And these children that thrive today in the flora family,

Have emerged from seeds that found their way up

Through the ancient rock that formed the seats

Where our ancestors sat

To hear each other speak their truths

And bare their souls 

In search of cathartic healing.

The caduceus stands.

The brazen serpents may represent 

The strands of our dna

Rising from the clay from which were formed,

Combined with stormy seas,

And nourished by the primordial plants

That gave rise to these

Wild Mustard seeds that continue to grow

And the delicious mallow family 

We know as WineCups today,

And we, ourselves, the fruit of this earth

Which has peopled continuously 

Since time immemorial.

But if you come here,

No need to bring a lunch

With wrappers you would need to trash,

Just munch on the wild grasses known as mustard and WineCups.

-jenn

 There is a sentiment that has been misused

And overused 

And people have been abused with it,

But there was once a great medicine man 

Who, on his deathbed 

Told his son,

And his granddaughters.

He told me, “Tell the people not to cry. 

Tell the people to be happy”

If you go outside and look up into the sky, 

It doesn’t matter if the sky is blue,

Or if you see the puffy clouds,

Whether they be white or gray, or at the sunset,

The deep purple and pink and tangerine,

You will have a deep feeling inside 

That the sun is always shining.

There is always light somewhere.

Sometimes the sun depends on you 

To be like the moon

And reflect the rays of living light

In beautiful ways here on this earth.

Sometimes I hear a parent say,

“Stop crying.”

This is not the same.

They tell their children to look the other way,

Deny what is and try to look happy anyway,

But that’s not Faith. 

Faith is seeing things exactly like they are,

Accepting them,

And knowing that,

Not only the Sun, but also 

The cosmos and the stars shine, too,

To the space around you in a way that makes miracles possible.

Every minute of every day this great power is available 

To those who clear the arena of their minds

Of doubt and fear 

And let the great creator appear

And replenish the energetic dance

Of true power around them.

And so it is something very different I say to you today.

This is not for the children who play upon the earth,

Because they already know.

This is for the grown ass people:

“Tell the people not to cry.

Tell the people to be happy,”

The echo of my grandfather.

-jenn