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“Little Maestro”
Jessica’s “Daily Affirmation”
"When I Go" by Dave Carter
Come lonely hunter chieftain and king
I will fly like the falcon when I go
Bear me my brother under your wing
I will strike fell like lightning when I go
I will bellow like the thunder drum
Invoke the storm of war
twisting pillars spun of dust and blood
up from the prairie floor
I will sweep the foe before me
Like a gale out on the snow
And the wind will long recount the story
Reverence and glory when I go
Spring spirit dancer nimble and thin
I will leap like coyote when I go
Tireless entrancer lend me your skin
I will run like the grey wolf when I go
I will climb the rise of daybreak
I will kiss the sky at noon
Raise my yearning voice at midnight
to my mother in the moon
I will make the lay of long defeat
And draw the chorus slow
Send this message down the wire
Hope that someone wise is listening when I go
And when the sun comes trumpets
From his red house in the east
He will find the standing stone
Where long I chanted my release
He will send his morning messenger
To strike the hammer blow
I will crumble down unaccountable
In showers of crimson rubies when I go
Sigh mournful sister whisper and turn
I will rattle like dry leaves when I go
Stand in the mist where my fire used to burn
I will camp on the night breeze when I go
And should you glimpse my wandering form out on the borderline
Between death and resurrection and the council of the pines
Do not worry for my comfort do not sorrow for me so
Oh your diamond tears will rise up
And adorn the sky beside me when I go
My friend Mary Elizabeth Beckman died this past May 16th weekend. She was a sensitive and loving friend and a fellow singer/songwriter. Her body was found in the Sausalito Harbor Monday morning. I feel her absence on the Earth. The rain and the birds called for her this morning at the reservoir. We will miss your spirit and your song. May you know freedom; may you know peace. Safe journey Home now, sister. We love you.
A Poem for Mary Elizabeth
Sleeping in the Forest by Mary Oliver
I thought the earth remembered me, she
took me back so tenderly, arranging
her dark skirts, her pockets
full of lichens and seeds. I slept
as never before, a stone
on the river bed, nothing
between me and the white fire of the stars
but my thoughts, and they floated
light as moths among the branches
of the perfect trees. All night
I heard the small kingdoms breathing
around me, the insects, and the birds
who do their work in the darkness. All night
I rose and fell, as if in water, grappling
with a luminous doom. By morning
I had vanished at least a dozen times
into something better.
Pretty Powerful Video:
Katie Makkai, a veteran poetry slammer – defining the word \”pretty\”.
Blue heron at sunrise
a zen monk standing in stillness
listening to the world waking
lifting off the lake like a grey whisper.