Archive
FRIDAY’S POEM FROM RHYTHMS AND CYCLES: Butterfly Maiden
Today I am reprising a poem from late spring 2013. On Monday the reason will become more clear with a new poem. My thought today, post Thanksgiving here in the US – and “Black Friday” when Rosemary and I stay home to turn our attention to our vision for next year – and as we head rapidly now to Winter Solstice is to dream of spring, and corn planting.
Butterfly Maiden
The corn is planted;
The spring rains have come.
The holy ground is rich;
The loam warms the seed.
Soon there will be a splitting;
Soon the full moon will shine.
Soon the earth will feed that seed;
Soon the sprout will reach for sun.
Moon watches through the night;
Moon wanes through a fortnight.
Moon withers toward rising sun;
Moon winks out as the sprout sees dawn.
Butterfly Maiden sheds her cocoon;
Butterfly Maiden warms in the sun.
Butterfly Maiden grins at the grinning moon;
Butterfly Maiden guards growing corn.
©2013 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.
FRIDAY’S POEM FROM RHYTHMS AND CYCLES: Phoenix Moon
As I write the Old Moon has another day of life. We are about to enter another cycle of the Moon’s appearance to us as she orbits our world and the Sun. The Moon is exactly conjunct the Sun tomorrow, Saturday, November 22 at 7:32 am EST. And then we have a New Moon and the cycle repeats.
I don’t know if you feel the energy of the Moon as she goes through her cycle each month. I sure do. And I celebrate this cycle and all of her phases to honor her, life and the rhythms we all experience. I have written many poems to the Moon. Today’s is a new one for you to tap and experience.
Phoenix Moon
Bright day, heavy energy
As the Moon races, just ahead,
The Sun eating the distance
With every pulse between them.
The beat is felt if not heard –
The heavy sound too low
To press on human drum.
The closing gap pinches
The visible sliver of Grandmother
To nothing in the distant East.
Early morning darkness deepens
With her loss of limb.
Old Grandmother Moon again
Loses her race with her Son.
He dismembers and burns her
In his brightness, his sizzle.
But wait! In three days passing
She reappears on the other
Side of the world – resurrected!
Phoenix Moon is new. Blessing!
©2014 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.
MONDAY’S POEM: Echoes 3
It’s a dreary Monday here in the Middle Atlantic region, heavy with rain. I found a heavy poem from a series I had written on time (last Monday’s was the first in that series) and how it might operate extra-dimensionally rather than linearly. It is so easy for us in the west to think of time as a unidirectional vector: past as tail, present as shaft, future as arrow point shooting out in a single direction. But what if time is more like a bubble, sometimes expanding, sometimes contracting; what if?
Echoes 3
Echoes need emptiness.
The reverberations of time
Bounce within the hollow bubble
Of now.
Write for the future.
They need your poetry
Out there for some distant when
To exist.
There is no now,
Only the echoes of yesterday
When the world was made new
For all.
Write for the past.
There is no then without these words
Remembering those who remember
For us.
©2014 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.
FRIDAY’S POEM FROM RHYTHMS AND CYCLES: A Poem for Tristan
Tristan is on my mind because he is here in Maryland with us! He (and his parents) are visiting from LA. The cycle of life is in my face. So, I am reprising the poem from the day after his birth. He is now three and a half months old!
A Poem for Tristan
I hold my breath
Waiting to hear in the silence
That first ring of life-news.
Is he here? Is he breathing?
Has our new grandchild
Joined us on the Mother’s surface
Breathing the Mother’s air?
And I wait.
I glance at my phone for signs.
I see only a dark face;
Cold technology waiting
for some signal to let us know
All is well.
The phone remains inert,
Resting in that space of silence
Between breaths, between updates.
I take a breath.
Does baby take a breath?
I take a baby-breath
As baby takes his first breaths.
“Can I make my breath
As soft as a baby’s?”
Can baby breathe a healthy
Breath of air – and spirit?
Yes, I believe he can!
Then all comes to life
As we learn the joyous news
That all is well and he is here.
He may be early, anxious for
Sun, Moon, Stars to be just right.
He may be small, for now;
He grows into his big name!
Tristan Wallace Bredeson is here!
©2014 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.
MONDAY’S POEM: Echoes 1
My newest grandson, Tristan Wallace Bredeson, is here for a visit from California. He is just over three months old now, and beginning to show a delightful personality. He has been just about the most perfect baby I can imagine; he only fusses a little when he is hungry or needs a change! We are having a delightful time with him!
A new generation of Bredesons leads me to the poem today. I wrote it two years ago, but it seems to apply even more as the next generation, the next echo sounds forth. And with my son and grandson with me now, I do catch myself using expressions and words from my past, my parents. Are we learning lessons and moving on to new ones or are we just echoing within the chamber of time? Maybe the answer to this question is “yes”!
Echoes 1
Dad’s voice moved from
My ear to my throat
At breakfast. I heard
Him clearly: A non-sensical
Expression of his.
Mom’s voice jumped out of
My mouth with no thought
Or control behind it. It
Was clear, critical; some
Rule was broken.
Where is my voice? Has it
Been silenced by the tides
Of Time; lost in the returning
Ripples from the
Wall of Beyond?
Is the Wall of Time moving?
Is the sphere expanding?
The already learned lessons
Echo from the cold surface
Teaching, preaching.
Will we ever learn?
©2014 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.
MONDAY’S POEM: BALANCE
Today’s poem is a reprise. But it helps me remember this key to life and how to practice. And it is an echo of an experience Rosemary and I shared last evening; and that experience, too, was an echo of an earlier experience two years ago! Echoes within echoes, the cycle of time!
We helped sponsor, organize and share Ashana here in Annapolis for a concert Saturday night and an Activation Sunday evening. The Activation was powerful, a Kundalini Yoga experience of profound depth accompanied by Ashana’s amazing crystal bowls and angelic voice. For four hours we worked on opening and balancing our lower three chakras. This in turn helps open the upper three, all centered around the heart chakra. It was both deeply grounding helping us get in touch with the Earth, our Mother, and soaringly uplifting as we sailed and sang with the Angels!
And I reread this poem and remembered again that all is in balance; we all just need to remember!
Balance
Breathe in freshness,
The power of life in the Universe.
Breathe out love,
The acceptance of All in the Universe.
Consume deliciousness,
Every dish alive with energy.
Purge the waste without grief;
It is a meal for another.
Bring into the Universe all of You;
Your unique gifts are essential.
Let go of everything that is not yours;
There are others ready to serve.
Live your Life Purpose;
Your karmic journey is open.
Die as a Natural Human,
Fully embracing your sense of place.
©2013 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.
MONDAY’S POEM: Cosmic Aura
In case you hadn’t noticed, dear reader, I love the Fall. For many reasons it is my favorite season. One thing I particularly enjoy is watching the changing qualities of the light. Every day seems different, but the underlying quality is gold. My last couple of poems posted here are recent ones as I relish these shortening days filled with wonderful light, color, sounds, smells, all those sumptuous “flavors” of late harvest (so full and sweet) and the coming cold!
Cosmic Aura
Bright day follows cool morning rain.
That tale lingers in the glisten on the deck,
The scattering gray at the eastward edge.
Now is a fine day dawning.
There is gold lighting the canopy.
The trees reflect the Cosmic Aura.
That radiant light begins within,
Extends outward to fill
The entire known Universe –
And beyond (we don’t know much!).
It is a deep light, endless,
Dancing ecstatically at the edge,
Holding boundless love
In the gossamer fingers of God,
Arms of Goddess holding Cosmos to her breast.
©2014 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.
MONDAY’S POEM: No-place
Today’s poem is a bookend to Friday’s. Our Autumn weather here in Maryland is wonderful. Now all we need is a frost to bring out the colors!
No-place
It is a beautiful day with mild air and brilliant sky;
The trees, their light branches and leaves still so green,
Dancing in the breeze,
Doing their Qigong practice with the breath of Nature.
It is a high-pitched light vibration
That whispers joy, peace and surrender,
Echoes through the bubble that is time eternal.
It is a gentle kiss flirting with my light mood.
It tickles me with the chuckle of baby boy,
The chiree of high-flying hawk.
Then it settles, relaxing into a still space;
I exhale to rest in this no-place.
©2014 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.
FRIDAY’S POEM FROM “RHYTHMS AND CYCLES” – The Fall
We’ve had some gloomy days lately here in Maryland and the warm weather continues into our deepening fall. How much longer can winter hold off? Everyone is talking about a hard winter and the signs for one are there. Yet we wait. Today’s poem has this same mood about it:
The Fall
The predicted rain
Remains suspended.
A light breeze plays
In the mostly green trees
Just beginning to show signs
Of age.
There is a waiting quality to
This Presence.
It’s as if something momentous
Is about to happen,
Yet it holds, a bit longer
Building anticipation
For the Fall.
©2014 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.
MONDAY’S POEM: Cool Autumn Mist
I have always enjoyed Haiku. I haven’t written any for a long while but need to dust off an old volume I have floating somewhere in the house. Here’s a new one for today:
Cool autumn mist
Drips from the leaden sky
Becomes real rain.
©2014 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.
Haiku are fun to write. Write your own and send it to me as a comment!
Men and The Goddess 