Zephyr's Croon

As I stroll
Breezes blow
Whispering echoes
From long ago

A simpler life
Or so we're told
Eat, sleep, harvest
Times of old

Overload's toll
In this modern age
So much to do
Progress's gauge

Fulfillment's gap
Wider grows
With each new toy
To ease our woes

Breath doth sigh
One cannot miss
What has not been
Nor yet exists

Lucky the warbler
From twigs and grass
She twines her nest
As in ages past

Slow our pace
Heed her voice
Purl, weave, rest
A simpler choice


march 16, 2008
judithpiper

***
I enjoy sitting upon a mountain ridge and listening. Often I hear the wind as it approaches. And then I feel it kiss my cheeks. My thoughts wonder, bask, and dive into Zephyr's touch and voice.

There are many voices in the wind. Some speak of past. Others of future. All of the gift, the present. May we heed their lessons more and more.

This poem was written after a day hiking around The Saddle.
***

Be Gentle with the Tide

At ease among the young ones
Their eyes display no pretense
Therein I find a rest
In their honesty of heart

Why do grown-ups find it hard
To say the words I'm sorry
Why is it viewed as weak
Why does it offend

Words have finite limits
Mere reflections of the deep
Ocean's depth is fathomless
The origin of our soul

Please be gentle
I promise you the same
If ever my tide is rough
I pray you, let me know

Before you set your sail


april 29, 2oo8
judithpiper

***

It is obvious I am neglectful of this blog. I do want to update it, along with my neglected archive over at Poetry Pages (PPs). And the thousand other things I want to do. I hope there is an eternity. I don't think I'd ever get bored!

My last entry in my Poetry Pages archive is dated March, 2009. I have written some poems since then but haven't recorded them into my archive.

So today, April 24, 2010, I decided to peek back (via my PPs archive) into the month of April, 2008, to see what I had written then. I picked "Be Gentle with the Tide," obviously.

I enjoy young children, hanging out with toddlers. I like them; they like me. We giggle. We sing. We converse. We play. We get along so very well.

Their eyes, their eyes. So very deep, so very tender, so very innocent.

There is nothing to prove between us, other than to simply be.

And when we hurt the feelings of the other, we say, "I'm sorry."

I wish it were the same more often in the world of big people.

Sometimes the eyes convey more than the words.

Eyes. Depth. A peek into the ocean of soul where the tide ebbs and flows. From where life begins and ends. The tide.

***

Day's End

Today came.  
Today went.

Reading. Writing. Speaking. 

Singing. Hoping. Giving. 

Receiving. Smiling. Laughing.

Working. Typing. Thinking.

Eyes now closing.  

Feet tapping.  

Pause.  Pray.

Give thanks.

 december 18, 2009
jchwelch
~*~*~
I got home from work after midnight.  My mind was swimming with all I need to get done...so many things left undone.  The things on my list that will soon have to get done.

I thought, 'Well, what did I accomplish today?' Just the small list in my little prose makes a worthwhile day.

Most of my days, and I would think most everyone's days, are spent relating.  The only way we can't relate is if we cease to exist.  Some think that we never cease.  I don't concern myself much with that.

My day began laughing with my son and ended laughing with my daughter. In between involved good conversation with others, even the dogs, Maggie and Butter.  What more can one ask for?

~*~*~

Unseen Makers

I talked to God today
and asked if he was near

Breeze tickled my toes
but I could not see the breeze

Birds warbled among trees
but I did not see the birds

Crickets chirped amidst ferns
but no crickets could I see

Cars hummed on distant streets
but I did not see the cars

Stereo bass boomed from the road
but no speakers could I see
 
Golden leaves of autumn shone
but sun had moved beyond my sight

Lonely leaf drifted to earth
and gravity was invisible

I wanted to see a snake today
I like snakes in the wild

Autumn sun invites them
to bathe before they hibernate

I wondered to myself,
God, do you hibernate?

Then my telephone buzzed
a welcome friend I heard

Yet I could not see the lovely face
to whom the voice belonged

I talked to God today
and asked if He was near

november 08, 2009
judithpiper

***

It was a lovely day this past Sunday, 11/08.

I looked for snakes as I walked along the Greenway.  I thought of them hibernating soon.

I sat on my deck and listened to all the sounds around me.  I watched.  The giant tree up in the woods really did shine golden from the sun which was hidden on the other side of the house.  The sounds, though I couldn't see their makers, were very much real and alive.

That seems to be how God answered my question.

I was on my way to write the poem when my phone rang.  It was a friend.  We talked for over two hours.

Life is everywhere around us, every day.  Have you ever noticed how many seeds are produced?  Wow!

Free Me from this Bitterness

****
Sin of lies revealed
Conscience eye left with choices
Denial - hidden reality
Justification - double standard
Exposure - surface truth
What to believe, what to discard
In this world run by lies

What rests beneath these fabrications?
Labyrinths of circumstance
Crossroads of life's decisions
Heartaches of trying to survive
In this world run by lies

The great judge inquires
Eyes filled with deep compassion
His voice resonant with virtue
"What is the plea?"
In this world run by lies

Heart engaged, I search my soul
Honestly I do not know
Some counts guilty
Some counts innocent
In this world run by lies

Poised with sobered kindness
Timbre rich with mercy
Gently smiling he replies
"I understand, I've walked the path"
In this world run by lies

His tender grace floods the soul
Cleansing streams cascade my cheeks
He carefully atones each stain-filled tear
Absorbing the bitterness in my heart
Boundless bowels of forgiveness
The only exit
In this world run by lies

july 19, 2007
carol welch

****

Within a few months after leaving The Way, I got involved with an ex-Way online forum, Greasespot Cafe (GSC). It was a scary step, to post on that forum. I had never in my life posted anything on the web. (That sure has changed now. Ha! )

GSC was helpful for me. I was able to read about others' experiences, connect with long time friends from decades previous, read about the side of The Way that The Way kept (keeps) hidden from its followers, decompress and share some of my own emotional upheavals, and more. It was the first place I began to have a voice.

As time went on I began to feel that perhaps some of the same black/white thinking, us/them mentality was prevalent at GSC as was in The Way. I would push those kinds of thoughts aside, after all this was an ex-Way forum.

Close to a year with my involvement on the forum, I had a major disagreement with the administrator. I also began to learn of another side of GSC. A web of toxic relationships, censorship, and even scapegoating began to emerge. At 1-1/2 years of involvement with the forum, I found myself caught in the web. The experience was painful (an understatement) and I realized that the GSC forum was no longer an emotionally safe place for me in which to participate. Was I wrong? Was I right? What were my thoughts? Was I deceived again? Was I a perpetrator? Was I lying? What was true, what wasn't true? I had thought this was supposed to be a place of support for me after exiting The Way.

There were many layers and more than one answer to all my doubts, questions, internal turmoil.

One GSC member in particular caught within a GSC web, I felt was a victim and a perpetrator. I felt anger and at the same time compassion. I felt for the individual trying to put myself in their shoes.

Thus this poem was born.

Maybe someday the relationships I had there can/will be healed. I just don't know how to approach them yet; I still feel unsafe, except perhaps at a distance.

For me the only out is acknowledgment and forgiveness.

Otherwise a bitterness can devour the soul, again murdering the heart.

***

Substance

I cannot find words to write
Disorientation in my mind
One side says yes and then says no.
I grasp for truth with substance

How can I believe me
How can I believe you
When the substance seems but vapor?
After so many lies it's hard for the heart to trust

But trust I must
Or else my heart will crater
My life's substance will dissipate.
For without trust, what else can I hold onto

june 11, 2007
judithpiper

June 2007. I had recently experienced triggering relationships/experiences with a certain group of people with whom I had initially turned to for help shortly after exiting The Way. Yet, within those relationships I found myself in the midst of events experiencing similar tactics I thought I had left behind in The Way. In addition to that turmoil, my personal spiritual beliefs were taking me in an unchartered direction; the truth I had clung to for so long had lost its certainty. I was confused, afraid, filled (again) with self-doubt and not sure who or what to trust.

2004- 2005. The year before I exited The Way in October, 2005, my heart was an vast, empty hole. To no avail, I continually tried to fill the void. I wanted to break the religious shackles, but was afraid. By exiting The Way I might divide my family; by deserting I'd fulfill a 3-strikes omen I had carried for decades; by exiting I'd be outside God's hedge of protection; by leaving I'd be alone. I didn't know who to trust. Would anybody be safe? Could I find help without succumbing again to manipulation, without succumbing to bitterness and victimization, without falling prey to some false doctrine, without harming my family? I was afraid and confused.

Trust is a huge issue after being involved in a high control group or relationship. One has so much doubt regarding his/her own internal direction. S/he looks to others for guidance; and when that trust is maligned, it can be devastating, confusing, lonely, gut-wrenching, scary. Perhaps black/white thinking plays into that mindset of trust.

Yet in the end, trust is vital; especially trust in oneself, which comes with time and practice. To trust doesn't mean what/who one trusts is perfect; but hopefully there can be forgiveness, openness, and accountability on all sides.

To trust in one's own heart. 'Tis a good thing!

Metacarpal Vestment

hands

wrinkled with time
touched 1000 palms
crossed cultural boundaries

knowledge, innovation
compassion, connection
wiping tears, venting rage

furrows of hidden secrets
timeless folded imprints
weathered with age

hands

august 22, 2oo7
judithpiper

Have you ever thought much about your hands? Have you ever gazed them over and wondered all the memories they hold?

I've always enjoyed hands. Some folks notice behinds; I notice hands.

Our hands speak everyday...without ever uttering a sound. May we use them to spread cheer, comfort, warmth, kindness, understanding, and empathy.

High five!!! :-D

Sixth Dimension

To stay connected
My quill must dance
Upon the weathered parchment
Fingers embrace the pen

What is this magic
What is this pull
Into dimensions felt, not seen

Magnetism
To time eternal
Memories that tarry

Some past, some future
Mortal, immortal
Concrete, ambiguous

Embrace me
Never let me go
Curves, lines, circles
Magic strokes upon the page


january 20, 2oo8
judithpiper

Poetry is a therapeutic tool for me, allowing me to access and express a part of my soul that otherwise remains dormant. Sometimes when I am in process of composing a prose or poem, I become immersed within another time and space. It is as if time stands still and I feel a connection to myself that goes beyond everyday perception.

I thought that perhaps it is a 6th dimension. As my manner is, I then googled "sixth dimension." Sixth dimension has to do with community. I felt it applied to my inner thoughts, for I think that we do communicate via ways not yet verified in our Western scientific paradigm. As we are more in tune with ourselves, we will be more in tune with others....

• Three Dimensional Space (Eg Proximity of people and groups of people to one another, resulting in interaction) (Consider also the physical shape of a tool used by a blacksmith)
• 4 -- Time (Eg The birth, death and marriage dates that connect people to one another)
• 5 -- Objects (Eg People and their tools, homes and beasts of burden)
• 6 -- Societal Values (Prevalent attitudes in a community that evolve in response to a complex web of human interactions)
• http://www.beamccowan.com/SixthDim.htm