Just a little angel Caught in a spider’s web Energy pulsing round it Humming in its head.
Soothing it like music Sung to a babe on high In a cradle gently pulled by silver threads of sky.
So it is that the babe, the tiny creature that is the product of a twenty-three to twenty-four week gestation, offers the gift of a shift in perspective. It raises irrational issues that Reason cannot handle and silences the chattering Mind, so that the Soul can be heard. The babe takes the hand of the Mind and leads it down a rabbit hole from which it can emerge, if it gives itself permission, with a new understanding of the healing movement that is the relationship between Life and Death.
Going Deeper: Angels and Dreams is a collection of thoughts/quotes that taken one at a time, introduce an idea. If they are experienced in repetition or as a group, they imbed a new prospective. Angels and Dreams is the first of now two books along with Thoughts on Love, Life and Mania with a possible third book to come, that all move to the same rhythm. They belong together, but they can stand on their own. The nidi for each book idea came from my Master’s work and the layers from life. I hope you enjoy them and understand that these books are not books of poetry, although they are poetic, nor are they narratives. They do not intend to convey a story but rather a meaning, the deeper idea. Angels and Dreams re-imagines the movement that raises to consciousness the Wisdom that is known but has been forgotten. Whether the movement is called the angelic or it is named love, it is through a descent via memory that the image brings back to ind that which has been lost, back into Life that which has been orphaned.
Excerpt: Going Deeper: Angels and Dreams
Within every breath of the babe, there is a sigh of an Angel.
The Angel is the image of the ineffable that being longed for will not let the landscape of the Mind settle. It is the symbol that opens backwards spanning the distance between what is known and what is forgotten, what is thought and what is not. A free spirit perpetually in mid-flight, the Angel is that which brings forth the unknown to be named and buries the labeled to be forgotten.
The Angel is uncanny—the strangely familiar that wings its way through the fabric of the Mind. The feathers of the Angel do not brush against the same branch twice for its energy is coiled and its trajectory spiral. It winds through the unknown yet familiar venues of the imagination to gather faerie dust for the enchantment of the Mind.
The babe is that Angel, that which pulls our attention towards it, lulling our Minds and awakening our Hearts to its Beauty. Being near enough to it to hear it live, we fall out of our world and under its spell. Crossing the distance between what is and what might be in the moment of the glance, we, as do the flowers, bend our faces towards its divinity, arching through Eternity as we do.
Thoughts on Love, Life and Mania is a collection of thoughts/quotes that taken one at a time, introduce an idea. If the thoughts are experienced in repetition or as a group, they imbed a new prospective. Angels and Dreams is the first of now two books with Thoughts on Love, Life and Mania being the second. They belong together, but they can stand on their own. The nidi for each book idea came from my Master’s work and the layers from life. I hope you enjoy them and understand that these books are not books of poetry, although they are poetic, nor are they narratives. They do not intend to convey a story but rather meaning, the deeper idea. Love is the pervasive motivating force between all things, the divine nature that is hidden in all things as sympathy. Its impulse is to connect outside of the bounds of structure, breaking down the walls of the intellectual sanctuary as it brings the other back into Mind and the unknown to consciousness. It is through Love that one participates in the world for Love teaches the Mind, shifting its perspective from I to we and its movement from suffering to healing.
Mania of Love
We, in love, are the madwoman gathering bits of junk working feverishly at a task seemingly without goal, but in accord with the logic of our own private madness.
The Second Womb is a nest, the sacred place that we all must have to complete our becoming. Whether it is the warmth and safety required after the first birth, or it is the space needed for withdrawal and reimagining, the second womb is the needed surrogate-a compassionate experience that works outside of time as it helps in healing.
This is a book of poetry that has seven chapters. They deal with the feminine, our sacred spaces, the isolation of thought, large and small truths, life and its rhythms, and many other ruminations.
She Who Waits
The crib sways to her rhythm As an angel hovers o’er the bed Its song slips through the lips Of the mother at its side.
Whether to stay or to go The babe does not yet know For the song is still being sung By the siren who waits.
Music, like life, is a short-lived thing Notes drafting passing thoughts Flesh clinging to an airy soul Like mist shifting with the sea.
As the siren sings her pleading song Her sounds pulse with the breeze Made by the breath of the sleeping babe…
Excerpts from the books from the two series, “The Angelic Premie,” and “The Nest.”
The Nest is the second womb, the sacred place that we all must have to complete our becoming. Whether it is the warmth and safety required after the first birth, or it is the space needed for withdrawal and reimagining, the nest is the needed surrogate-a compassionate experience that works outside of Time as it heals.
In this section, I have included some of my favorite images. Poems and photographs that speak to the sense of helplessness and impotence of the parents, to the heavy responsibility of the caretakers, and about the experiences, as we can know them, of the tiniest of premature babes
Under the dome of a man-made sky An Angel comes to rest Alighting on a cot of steel Tangled wire for a nest.
Its cradle doesn’t so much swing As vibrate within Time While a starched world moves around it Canceling alarm bells as they chime.
Like the surge of the sea, the Angel comes and like the sea she withdraws again, leaving behind pearls, intuitions housed in familiar shells.
The babe who dies is the seedling that failing to take root in the earth, flourishes instead in the Heart.
A compilation of excerpt from the books from the two series: The Angelic Premie and The Nest. Available on Amazon