Inside Dancers

A lost thing came to me
a beautiful lost thing
it was tumbling around all the time
deep within
turning over and over inside
creating lovely facets
that when held to the light of my senses
pierced me with their splendor
and reminded me that home is my haven
and there are special keys to unlock the doors
as prisms of light swirl and dance in and around
forgotten senses ... wildly new, these inside dancers
and the fullness of seasons belongs to them. -sjp

Kimono Moon

"Noh Theatre is a traditional Japanese masked drama with dance and song, evolved from Shinto rites."


While visiting an exhibition of Noh Theatre costumes, I read this on one of the placards. I just love how expressively it describes the beauty of this art form:

"Noh is a spectacle of such dislocating awe and beauty that a viewer is disarmed of expectations tethered to the world of everyday experience. The luxuriousness of Noh costumes - layer upon layer of silk, pattern upon pattern, wonder into wonder - transports the viewer beyond mere reality into a coalescing and dissolving realm of shapes and signs. Action is pared to suggestion. Hypnotic music and a nearly bare stage concentrate the imagination. Intensity replaces action as the dramatic force. Through these abstract means, the actor takes the audience beyond the particular to the universal, and through the surface to the wellspring of feeling ... a Noh play is completed inside the audience's heart."  -written on placard at a Japanese Noh Theatre exhibition ♥ 

kimono moon beams

draped around your sky shoulders

holding up the night 

Lanterns & Lights

Hurt upon hurt

together they build 

and the barriers they create 

are sullen wingless things

riding the flank of dark stillness

no flight of their own ... sadness personified

Within the realm of reason and longing

these still wingless things are powerless

unless given power by the heart that chooses

to fuel them ... 

And oh how they can lull the senses ... 

Deep inside the chamber of longing

the place that poets know,

that place that is kin to all - poets and dreamers alike

And those that think they feel no song

I am sure they do

It just got lost somewhere inside

But there are lanterns

and lights

that shine the way 

and take one home

to the place that is full of

welcoming arms 

and unspoken thoughts 

Because within this haven of safety

there is no need for sadnesses

There is but need for

the solace that the familiar carries,

the familiar that is one's soul

carried and cradled far within

The home of self

that searches to see, to find, if there is a 

place residing within another - that same sort of place

that sees without sight

and hears without ears

and feels without touch

and sings without voice

The place where senses both known and unknown

sigh deeply - contentedly - free of form - yet completely whole. ~sjp

Rising Above

Not long ago I was waiting in line at a Post Office ... lost in thought I was called back by the sound of a disgruntled voice hollering out, "why don't you learn to speak English!"  I turned my head to see who could have blurted out such a rude thing, but I saw no one ... and next, the man whose station was open, called me and my package over. 

This man was visibly shaken and soon I learned that it was he who had been the recipient of that wretched comment I'd just heard. This man, who had an accent, a charming one, was so flustered by this woman who'd been horribly unkind, that for a few moments he kind of lost track of himself there with me ... he took out his wallet and handed it to me, showed me his driver's license, talked fast to me about what an honorable citizen he has been over these many years ... I told him that I was sure that he had been and to please try to let that horrible statement roll off of his back, but it was evident to me that he was close to tears ... 

All I could think to do was go into my wallet where I knew I had a sheet of "Love" stamps. I quickly tore one off for him and asked him to please put it on his hand and look at it throughout the day so that he would know that he is loved ... he tried to give me back the stamp, saying that it cost me money and I shouldn't give it to him and I told him that I didn't care, I wanted him to have it ... he was then quiet for a few moments as he looked thoughtfully down at the Love stamp. He then peeled off the adhesive and proudly stuck the stamp atop his metal postal employee identification badge. And we just nodded and smiled at each other. It was an experience - both harrowing and tender. 

:: Rising Above ::

there are times

and there are other times

times when the wind pays forceful heed to your hair

by insisting it take on new angles

and times when strife seems to know 

no name but your own

times when the wind and strife

feebly attempt to give your life 

new purpose, darkly calling

there are times when you

faintly answer the wind and strife ... downward times

and there are times more when you don't ... rising above -sjp

Twirling Cone Cups

While driving one day, and feeling a bit blue, I saw something in the road directly ahead of me that arrested my attention ... pausing at a stop sign enabled me to take a good long look at the little patch of wonder directly before my eyes ... there in the road were six paper-cone cups and the wind was playing with them so that each of the cups were twirling around in their own place amongst each other!  Of course I got out of my truck and watched the twirling dance of the cone cups - they made me smile and helped me to remember that sadness is fleeting and that our world is filled with wonders, if only we take the time to watch for them and notice when they're revealed. I wish this photo could capture their wind dance ... yet, I know you can well imagine it. 

there are days and days

and nights that belong to them

seamless, like kindred hearts   -sjp

Love Doves

"A forest bird never wants a cage." -Henrik Ibsen 

Two beautiful mourning doves feel safe in my outdoor haven and so they stayed closely by me for a long while. I discovered them after I'd been singing and playing my guitar one day. I stopped and looked outside and one of the pair was standing curiously near to the door, looking in. Later, they discovered how fun the tricycle is! When they coo, they puff out their necks and reveal their exquisite iridescent featherings. I wonder how long these two have been flying through life together ...

"may my heart always be open to little

birds who are the secrets of living

whatever they sing is better than to know

and if men should not hear them men are old"

-e.e. cummings

Secrets & Sound

It is wonderful to catch the scent of Spring these days ... I've been taking delight in feeding the wild birds that live in my backyard forest ... sometimes they perch on the antlers and then hop over to the plate to have a snack. Bluejays can be quite crabby but they are sheerly beautiful when in flight ... they leap around so gracefully in the air as though they're gazelles! I hope you are all enjoying your February.  

what is the sound of a secret?

maybe the answer lives inside of fog