poetry

Lake Tekapo Blues

Lake Tekapo blues

listening to the brisk burble of glacial gush
that menthol blue pops to mind
and cools my tongue just by thinking

what could a teaspoon of that turquoise tonic do?
what might you be capable of
if those minerals went coursing around your ductwork?
mightn’t you shine
like you were plumbed with cooling rods
like the bonds that held you together/back
might split at any breath?

now imagine immersing your whole heavy body
in that cocktail of salts
bits of earth’s heart holding you buoyant
flat out so all you can see
is that calmer blue sky
that you know somewhere fades to black
but not for you today

poetry

first didgeridoo

first didgeridoo

vibrations:
waves ripple atom to atom
neuron to neuron
my ear like a drum
throat like a flute
and there is the possibility
that the right song will
shepherd all my energies
into ideal alignment
every water molecule
that gives me shape
attuned to some higher frequency
that at last relaxes
the rigid lump that I am
into multi-layered harmonies

poetry

opera house

opera house

shells returning the sound of the sea
echoing the breath
trumpeting the news
cradling pearls of reflected human forms
each made from the uncomfortable itch
of grit worried around until
layer by slow painstaking layer
a round rainbow-hued orb
smoothed out the rough patch
& turned injury into art

poetry

salve

salve

my body
holds onto
pain

learns a
pattern
remembers

years after
injury
the same muscles
ache
same acid
galls

o my flesh
if only
I could let go
of little
traumas
pour light into
wounds
and heal

poetry

Our Hope for Humanity: Vuyi with diopmawu and me

When we visited the Norval Foundation art museum in Cape Town, South Africa today I was delighted to find wonderful poetry handwritten on sacred texts scattered around the exhibits. I asked at the front desk about the artist who created this work, and was told that it was part of a performance piece that day called Historical Glitch, and the artist would be performing at 2pm. We had already signed up for a guided tour at that time, so I also asked the guide if we needed to choose between the two events, and she explained that the artist would perform at the end. Our family waited to see what would happen, and a woman with a very long braid descended the stairs and then sat among spiritual implements like drums, stones, flowers, red clay, and a pan of water. A man knelt in front of her and they took hands and quietly talked while she washed and massaged his hands in ritual fashion. It was a loving and forgiving gesture. I thought maybe he was part of the performance piece, but then she looked at me and invited me to join her. She explained that we were doing an intervention to heal the wounds of division from colonialism and the harming of our earth, to remember that we are all one. It was very moving, and in our brief conversation she intuited some things about me that were spot on. Owen took a turn, too. It was another gift from the universe – the only way that I even heard about the museum was thanks to the fact that yesterday when we had lunch we walked past the Simons Town information center. I don’t usually go into those, but something made me double back and see what information they had. The Norval brochure said “Where art, architecture, and nature meet” – yes, please! Today our main goal was to go to the Indonesian consulate, and it ended up being a quick visit because they explained they only issue visas to South African nationals. Unsure what to do instead, I sifted through the brochures and noticed that Norval has a monthly free day on the first Thursday of the month – today! And it was on our way back home. We stopped at their lovely restaurant first, but through a mixup it took about an hour for our order to even be taken – another stroke of luck, since we probably would have left before two otherwise. When you’re open to it, the universe finds a way. Tonight I did some research and found her name: Vuyi Qubeka. When she performs, her name is listed as “Vuyi Qubeka with diopmawu,” which I think means her spirit guides/ancestors. I didn’t find a website or email address for her, but she’s active on Instagram and Twitter, and you can watch her TED talk about becoming a healer: “Don’t Die with Your Song Still Inside You.” I incorporated some of her well-chosen words in this thank you gift which I hope makes its way to her!

Our Hope for Humanity: Vuyi with diopmawu and me

she comes bearing songs
born of red clay,
an intervention
inviting audacious hope

she holds a circle of water
that dissolves guilt,
makes new space
for radical compassion:
the resolve to see
All One Always

palm to palm
we make a circuit –
loving energy looping
round our own tiny peaceful
world of now,
smiling eye to eye,
joyful servants to the work
of binding wounds
and stitching things whole
even as the seams strain

poetry

how to heal a wound

how to heal a wound

first, you must examine it
look deep into the dark recesses
at the ugly details of the ragged edges
and damaged tissue
see it for what it is

next, remove the source of injury
extract the sharp object or word
cease the behavior that brought on the bleeding
stop tearing what’s ready to mend

now, cleanse the site
flush with tears
lay your body down in water that moves
let the offense float away

then, bind the severed bits together
thread a needle with compassion
weave it through the halves seeking whole
slowly draw opposite sides close

after that, protect the wound
administer salve and a soft cloth
apply gentle pressure
as in handshake or hug
encourage rest
keep from further harm

you are not done
you must revisit the split
check for signs of recovery
guard against infection
minimize scarring

and make whatever art you need
to invoke the gods’ protection
including giving thanks
to all those present
at your revival