The Path to a Healing Heart

Coming through the haze Numbers few, moving me over and beyond with their words, money, scents and wisdom. Angel helpers in human form, keeping me afloat in a tsunami of trepidation seeing beyond the scapegoat and the wounds into a soul forgoing pity into compassion. Thank you dear ones. You know who you are.

Sprung the days before equinox sun blessing and new moon equal in their power and a comfort during these days of pain in foot from breakage and stenosis of my spine where the river of life is dammed and jagged and condensed into a thread. Into the wild of mallow the perked up forest green an emerald collective echo bouncing with rounded crowns with white mustard warming tickled ivory shoots they pander and through the thicket dandelion and wild garlic and then borage purple flowers. I love the taste the smell and the power of seeped deep amethyst swirls jade streaked abundant with desert terrain camouflage. I have earned the equanimity that stems from living on edges pondering ledges and teetering on extremes, where nothing much will faze me except the pain in self and others. Pain, the great impetus, the mover the pusher, never master the con, the fool and the masquerader. I squander hours in taking in rest feet propped up, spine aligned heart pounding, when I'm not. Here a relaxa...

Well, a rat found its way into my kitchen this evening just over half an hour ago. I freaked. Last time that happened I was married, just given birth, living in a slum near Ramat Gan and my husband managed to kill it after a long chase throughout the apartment all the while I'm screaming - the baby! the baby!. Deja vu. I screamed but there was no husband or baby this time. I just slid the door shut and ventured outside in the dark to find a man to help get this critter out asap. Did the rounds - nobody was home. All were at a celebration of sorts. Just pristine houses, very clean - very shiny and me in my rags and knowing the difference between our standards. I turned direction towards the synagogue where I saw a bunch of teenagers with a rabbi, who'd just finished a class. I approached them and asked who'd like to do a mitzvah. Three volunteered. We, as an army out to annihilate the enemy turned towards my ragged dwelling. I am ashamed at the look of it. From its outside ...

Purple legumes The plants green essence in a nutshell the peels the core the clusters the abundance of genes of figs and hibiscus infinity of spheres gems worn as earth's shield and garment grow forested trees grow desert trees dates and pines plums and acacia grow orange tangy lemon blossom sweet peas entwined sap rising up from the center Grateful. I am. For the hardened ones For the soft ones For the ones that need extra protection for the ones that are hardy and weather storms For the ones countable for the ones numerous like the sands for the ones grabbed by the handful for the ones singular that can feed many mouths The unblossomed flowers packing within the DNA of all that IS with artistry in a rainbow Thank you Creator for this. That I may see, taste, witness, count and calculate, cook and soak wonder and bless, connect with and resist, share, plant and reap with The round, the oval and the equiangular Golden spirals the debris composted from death into life into eternity a...

I read that in a small local newspaper today, one geared toward local businesses. Some useful tidbits just in case one has a dog and is used to shaming them into submission or swatting them with a newspaper on their snout, or worse. Which led me to think this is exactly what I feel that comes my way in torrents from those that want my energy and who I refuse to give it to them. They use force and denigration to get me to submit to them, not that it works mind you, because the louder they shout the more I tune them out, but I've noticed the pattern in my sphere that runs along the inner meridians of the auric/karmic field - and this has been going on a LONG long time. To tell you the truth, I'm bloody sick of these power struggles. I read people. I can't help it. I put out my feelers and check what's going on. Usually here in the Land of - I hit brick walls. Sometimes I will have to run for my life because of the lifesuckers and sometimes it's safe. Rare, but it happ...

Corruption It is the demise the slow tearing down the crumbling of the facade the degeneration the withholding of the lifeforce the center imploding. The centers still eager for self preservation at all costs sucking from Nature with sheer will to survive whatever it takes trampling, shooting, cannabilizing crushing bones, lying, hiding in skins of sheep while the yowling of night the howling over full moons takes precedence. Worker bees The Klal The mass Population Sheeple Third World Middle East Anywhere but There in Northern California Bavaria Switzerland and Tel Aviv The final hurrah the twitching the *save yourselves* the *ship is sinking* Sick to the core Tables now turning Tables now turning Up is down down is up the under is over and the over is over. And the disintegration dissolves into white streams of Light No more suffering of the poor No more Pompeii. Solution on its way. the volcano is erupting and ash, ash, ash Serengeti blissed Heat, fire, totality 7 years of burning. ...

Spin - spin - spin Wheels of life in all of its manifestations the organic and manufactured the construed and the imagined Spin empty, spin fast With no resolution other than the tripping of memory ego Nice to come Home once again in an influx of hormones Isn't it? Blind run in circles. Deaf run in circles. Dumb run in circles. The spiral calls. I just watch you in your race and wonder in fascination when and what it will take for you to get off the recycled maze.

No don't draw this to yourself the slam jumping toxic wasted soul parts exiting at 2 four and 9 Female giver of life Father seed planter protection removed blasted, given lethal doses of life removers the horror the black twisted infiltrating spheres, lives, minds. Today is birthday must be grateful for gifts lessons learned all that is. The pain - thank you. The suffering - thank you. The dead ends - thank you. The humiliations - thank you. The hatred - thank you. The punishments - thank you. The unending of it all - thank you. For all this I write grateful. While all around me crumbles. Breathe. Sigh. Inhale. Cracked jar. Stooped. Cold. Heart pumping. Still. Still. Still.

In brown skirts and hair no longer my own pushed into rhythm by a dance of foreign score the booms of bomb mix entwined with meows and some gutteral coughing and stifled cries It's been a slow tightening around life. Breath comes slow, hard, cold and brittle. Pain and rattle, my fever broken in shards like the small amber, blue and clear glass the bottles of remedy, sticky, still resin adorn walls, each a match to a symptom. Yet around me death hovers near it shakes my chest with bronchi in flames, polluted, cut down, burned and torched, they finally submitted and fell after a very long, bloody reign of pain. We all lie here - each in his or her own mode, time, entry way into the Portal I still run for arnica to administer to my sickest. Suffering still and so with fire in his belly, his legs still shaven. My thin, weakening friend from Upstate. How good you are, happy boy in your prime, bouncer, lover, splat, dash, tom brother, the one to offer kisses and hugs oh we danced and wal...

New Square, NY. A fish. what happened