Dancing While We Die

One of the worst things we do to our children is to allow them no pride;

The blessings we've been given responsibility for should not be denied.

We should teach them the humility to understand they are on loan;

Our gifts are something the Spirit of the Universe will always own.

We should also teach our young the magic of synergy;

Sharing our gifts with others creates a new energy.

When we truly love, we lean into each other;

This kind of sharing makes us all sisters and brothers.

The only leaders I will follow are those that know how to teach

With example and exchange of information, rather than preach.

If one can't demonstrate to another what one should do,

The mind may know how, but the body can't follow through.

I have had many mothers whose lives have been miracles;

They have graciously shown me how to keep my Spirit full.

Now many of them are facing their own dying days;

I want to be with them and shower them with praise.

And what of all the men who have helped me in this life?

My open love for them shouldn't threaten their wives.

We all need someone's hands to hold and wash us as we go.

Are we to help with all of this with no love beginning to show?

Wouldn't it be wonderful if we created living eulogies;

A deathbed party would, I think, many greatly please.

I'm so thankful for the Hospice angels who help us to tend

Our loved ones' physical needs as our lives come to an end.

Perhaps, one day, there will be a group who vows to each other

To give us compassionate care as we go, like that of a loving mother.

If we are facing our last moments here upon the earth

Shouldn't we be surrounded by gratitude and mirth?

When I go, it would be nice to be taken on a cruise

With all the many people that I'm about to lose.

Let them all party with me as I say good-bye,

Laugh, sing, dance, and tell fun stories until we cry.

The way to perfection for some is to never do anything;

This is not the story that, about me, people will sing.

It may be selfish, but I don't care what is done with my dead body;

While I'm alive I want to be the catalyst for a party.

It doesn't seem right to be silent until our loved ones are gone;

Our shared blessings and blunders will continue to live on.

I have been chosen before to be a person's death director;

This is the person who is the dying one's wishes protector.

Some would say this is prideful, that we want to celebrate

What we did in life, that some may consider great.

It would also be wonderful if those that I have harmed

Would let me say I'm so sorry as they hold me in their arms.

I know that I've hurt many because I live so out loud;

This is the root of my shame; it doesn't make me proud.

The great big passions I feel, I do not know how to control;

I hope not to die leaving these scars on others' souls.

Still Sitting Shiva

We must be able to speak ill of the dead when we have been harmed by them,
Just as those who where helped are able to still claim them as friends.
The negative energy people plant in others doesn't simply go away
Until the wounds inflicted by others are healed, the negative energy stays.

My prayer is that when I leave this life, I've had opportunity
To make amends to those who, from my wrongs, need setting free.
And I hope those I've loved and helped feel free to celebrate
Without the shadow of the things I did that they hate.

I know it isn't so, but relationships should be about batting average,
But the harms outweigh the gifts in those fueled by rage.
All those who believe in suffering as salvation refuse to be healed;
Those who punish all pain believe that any enemy must be killed.

I can truly say that the most freeing revelation to me
Is knowing that another was loved by someone who hurt me.
When I share my wounds with this person, it is my hope
That their love is strong enough to be a saving rope.

I do not seek to destroy that which is good in the other's heart
I simply want to reclaim my own bloodied and beaten parts.
I understand a seven day moratorium on speaking ill,
But must I wait until death to that part of my heart fill?

It is not for us to ever know whether our own energies balance,
But I believe while we live we have many a chance
To seek to leave a positive "footprint" on this earth
When we focus on our Divine Spirit that should have been ours at birth.

If If a Mother Has a Dead Soul, Her Babies Can't Be Whole

My mother's soul died before I was even conceived;
This is something I know, though others don't believe.
She died giving birth to her second child, my older sister;
Her body and my sister survived, by my mother was no longer her.


My mother could not be at peace after she'd been dragged from hell.
My sister never did, fully, in the physical world dwell.

My father was traveling to discover the secrets of the earth;
Family members took in the young that my parents birthed.

As soon as we children would attach to another mother,
We'd be taken away to meet a new sister or brother.
We were all orphaned children, no matter that our parents lived
The Church's lack of compassion for families is something I can't forgive.

The popes continue to pressure families to procreate,
Even though they are not providing for those that wait
On the beleaguered parents who have obeyed their demands.
Family management, like in all resources, takes a careful plan.

For families that sent their men to war and other jobs during peace,
The Church pretended the unfilled needs could be filled by their priests.
The pretending at being family men soon created a price to pay,
As, on the vulnerable of the parishes, the honored priests did prey.

The priests, protected from prosecution, by separation of church and state
Had no limits put on the miracles they were said to help create.
How is that a priest who has led so many innocents to sin
Is allowed near a church of worship, much less, allowed in?

Those who have the dead souls of the innocents on their hands
Should be given the same way out as Judas, as scripture demands.
Let it be up to The Almighty what happens to them then;
Making amends to those we've hurt is where forgiveness begins.

I would feel satisfied if those who took my family's souls
Offered their own lives in an attempt to make us whole.
I would accept their suicides with eternal gratitude
As long as they confessed their desire to make their evils good.

It is not that I have blood lust, this is far from my truth,
But my family is drowning without our faith's proof.
Isn't it about time The Roman Church became truly Christian
And realizes that protecting the faith is not about protecting them?

Unborn Babies

Where are the babies who are not given birth?
My beliefs say that the unborn babies are at peace.
The little sparks of energy that were their souls
Did not die when their corporal energy ceased.

I believe the same for my unborn sister or brother;
No priest or pontiff needed to sanctify this soul.
In fact this baby was one of the lucky ones,
Who was given back to The Spirit still whole.

I've known many who aborted their offspring,
And gone on to do great things with their lives.
At the time of their abortions they knew
That their care, the baby's Spirit, may not survive.

These are all smart women who gave
Their decision to abort much thought.
They had seen first-hand the horrors
That unwanted babies had wrought.


For some we offered to take the child;
These women felt the babies' Spirits, 
If, like theirs, were already broken.
Their babies would also be misfits.


I had struggled mightily with motherhood;
My friends, sadly, knew this about me.
And looking at the lives of themselves,
Would their babes from their demons be free?

If a baby is conceived in a polluted body,
Their can be permanent damage to the soul.
How many of us have enough helping hands
To commit to a child who'll never be whole?

It's a fantasy that all babies are blessings,
And I know this is not universally true.
We live in a society that values us
Based on what we are able to do.

We are animals in the wilderness
Unless someone takes us in,
And commits their souls and bodies
To helping us become fully  human.

Leaning Into the Heart of God by Gayle

http://onebirdwatching.blogspot.com/2012/06/leaning-into-heart-of-god.html

One of the defining moments of my life as a grandmother came when my grandchild was two years old.  The family had been visiting us for Christmas, a week when A. and I spent every waking moment together -- going for walks, talking, eating together, and grandma just watching, watching, watching every precious thing she did. 

The morning they were leaving, A. and I sat on the bottom step together as her parents loaded suitcases in the car and rushed around making sure that nothing had been left behind.  Somehow, even at the age of two, she must have realized that they were leaving me behind, and as we sat there without a word being spoken between us, she leaned into my side as if to embrace me.  At that moment, I recognized the intimate and very special bond between grandparent and grandchild.  For the first time in my life, I myself was not responsible for getting things done -- for getting to the airport on time, for making sure that life's tasks were completed responsibly, for any accomplishment.  For the first time in my life, I had the luxury to just sit and love. 

That morning, we both leaned into one another's hearts.  She felt my sadness; I felt hers -- even though she was only two, there was a true communion of hearts.  As she has grown older, that bond continues, despite the physical distance between us.  We "lean into" one another with no words spoken.  When she was nine, we took a walk together, and she said, "You know why I like talking to you?  You listen!"  I listen because there is nothing more important to me; there is nothing I have to be doing at the moment.  Listening is what I am there for---and nothing else demands my immediate attention.

Now that I am fortunate enough to be retired, I am experiencing the same relationship with God.  There is nothing I have to be doing at the moment; I am free to lean into the heart of God and to listen to Him.  No words are spoken; no words need to be spoken.  I can sit on the front porch with my book un-read, dishes un-washed, garden un-weeded and lean into the heart of my God, who leans lovingly into my heart also.

Once I said to my grandchild, "I'm a terrible grandmother.  I don't write and I don't call."  Her response:  "But I know you're there!"  That about sums up the relationship.  We are both "there" when it comes to each other -- and nothing else is between us, interfering with that bond.  When Scripture says, "Be still, and know that I am God," does it not mean the same relationship?  When we are still, when there is nothing more important that must be done, we can lean into the heart of the Most High God and know that He is "there."

The Skin I'm In

Every time life is kind to me, I become giddy with gratitude,
And when I'm hurt or angry, I cannot hide my mood.
Some turn their hearts from me because I'm too emotional
It's the only way I stay undepressed when I feel devotional.

I have been taught from birth that God does not enjoy
The loud speech or laughter of lively girls and boys.
I just can't be quiet when I feel The Spirit tickle me;
I can't sing, dance, or paint, but my Spirit struggles free.

I see my children and their children, and their Spirits blind me;
I think I try too hard to help others see what only I can see.
I have spent my life punished, scorned, and drugged
Because I've always wanted to give the world a hug.

Many envy my liveliness, say I'm high on life;
Some think it makes me a lousy mother and wife.
I have found out there's a diagnosis for people like me,
Borderline Personality Disorder, known as BPD.

Who assigns these diagnoses; who sets the norm?
Your discomfort doesn't mean I'll do you harm.
It is true I need boundaries, a safe place to rest,
But denying my emotions takes away my best.

Even my mother was jealous of the power of my personality;
I have often prayed, from my personality, to be set free.
It must be a wonderful thing to be comfortable in one's skin,
But, on this journey through life, I wouldn't know where to begin.

Magical or Mentally Ill?

There is no one thing on earth that has only one manifestation;
Color is in our perception of light; after dark there's little differentiation.
I know a tree is green to those who taught me color in school,
But now teachers who limit the imagination are thought of as cruel.

Are those who are color blind unable to see a tree?
Or does the color look different to them than it does to me?
A person who is schizophrenic to you, may be mystic to me;
And what is the difference between perfectionist and OCD?

While we may not want scientists who can't think in straight lines,
All great art is created in an artist's alternate state of mind.
When sadness mixes with fear and anger, some become enraged;
Others become more manic in that in which they are engaged.

There are those who will tell you that they know the facts of life;
These are people for whom the accepted rules and history suffice.
There are so many marginalized because they see what others don't;
Some of us see and hear many things that others can't or won't.

There is no way for a blind man to comprehend yellow;
A scientist may not communicate with a more artistic fellow.
Do we have to label each other as right or wrong,
Simply because we don't understand each others' song?

I know that in order to survive, I need to cooperate;
This is why we have many ways to communicate.
Some can't perceive emotion, including others' pain;
We also have words and touch to make our feelings plain.

There are those who cannot speak in an organized way;
This doesn't mean they have nothing to say.
Some dance, some sing, some paint beautifully,
All attempts to set what we're feeling free.

There must be those who embrace both science and art;
Can't these people, in communication, play a mediator's part?
Instead we tend to form herds of people all the same;
Even in the world of sports, this is no way to win a game.

Can we please stop arguing over whose manifestation is right,
Instead of being intrigued by the many ways of seeing light?
I don't say you're wrong because you have a different gift;
Maybe if we communicate and share, both our views will shift.

If you believe only those who believe like you are saved,
We will never be at peace with each other until we're in our graves.
Until we want to understand where others' views are coming from,
There is very little chance that peace on earth will ever come.