{peace.love.free}

Every now and then in cyber space, you stumble across a teacher.  Someone you are meant to know, learn from, and grow with.

Several years ago, one some fortuitous random night of blog surfing, I came across 37 days, and I’ve been there ever since.  Every new post.  Every new book.  Every new slice of wisdom and poetry and humor and grace.

Patti Digh is one of my teachers.  Over and over again, she has written words I needed to read.  Shared stories that wove their way into my heart.  Shared posts that strengthened me during difficult times.

When I learned that my words would be included in her new book “What I Wish For You” I was proud and humbled.  I set a publication goal for myself last year, and I met it twice.  (My name.  In two real honest-to-goodness books.  HOLY CRAZY UNIVERSE BATMAN).  That alone was incredible for me.  The fact that my words would be included in a book compiled by Patti, woman I respected on so many levels, made it all that much sweeter.

This Saturday Patti will be coming to Changing Hands in Tempe,  to read from “What I Wish For You”.   She graciously invited me to join her at the reading and I rashly agreed (I say rashly only because my response was followed by a panic attack of epic proportions).

{I HAVE TO READ.  MY WORDS. IN FRONT OF PEOPLE.  HOLY CRAZY UNIVERSE BATMAN.  OMG. OMG. O.M.F.G.  I THINK I’M GOING TO PASS OUT}

I’d be honored if you’d join us at Changing Hands, this Saturday, May 21^st at 2pm.  If anything, a bigger audience will give me more coverage just in case I freak out and try to run away before my turn comes.  You’ve got my back, right?.

{my muse}

my muse
she is
awake
and she is calling
me

coaxing
tempting
in a seductress
voice dripping sweet
with honey
and sharp with desire
there is a

tug

and my words
they have been gathering
in the dusky light
and they have been swirling
liquid whirlpools
forming and reforming
and coming part and undone

-so much of creation is coming
undone.-

and I am coming undone

my muse
demands
I come undone

and words are
tripping out of me
spilling out of me
pouring out of
me
like they have been too long on
lockdown
too long rising behind a patched up seawall
of too much comfort
too much complacency
too much
not enough

And then
with a rough nudge
into more than
enough
I burst forth
with the power of
creation
too fast to be contained
too much passion
for control

But I will control
I will subdue
because when my muse
is awake
she bequeaths me that
sacred power
she requires that I hold
that power
she knows I have
that power

My muse she is impatient
she requires
complete
possession
a lusty dominatrix
with a dagger gaze
and requirements sharp
as nails

she has plans
for me
she whispers
I must comply
she directs
her bidding
is my purpose
her needs
my foundation
her satisfaction
my only pleasure

when my muse is
awake
my energy builds
knows no
limits
my mind is
blazing
trails
cutting swaths
through thick undergrowth
clearing away the dead
the unnecessary
the unwanted
I am relentless in my
quest
for the totality of experience
and vicious in my requirement
for all
or nothing

and I am free.
I claim freedom in the
captivity
of creation
the fierce
consuming
need to do her
bidding

and I will do her bidding

sleep is nothing
my body is nothing
my brain is nothing
I am nothing in the wake of this
consumed by this
phoenix fire
burning down
red-orange-white

and I am born
again
under her spell
burning from inside out
and outside in
fanning flames to keep
this fire going

my fingers cannot move fast enough
my breath cannot come hard enough
my heart cannot pound hard enough
I cannot create fast enough to
appease her

and I must appease her
she is mistress
and captor
and she could go away
at any time
so I must woo her
and please her
and go down on my knees for her
because I need her

I need her

my muse is awake
now
and so I am a prophet
seeing truth
seeing life
down to the bones and ash
down to the death and destruction

if you are not ready to be seen
do not come to me now
because I will lay you bare
I will crack you open
I will slip inside your soul
and take what I need
to
create

I welcome
the violence of
this knowing
because my muse
is not turned on
by safety

she is hot for risk
and the place outside
of comfort zones
and the sliver
of space between
pleasure and pain

my muse,
she wants a fucking
orgy
of creation
she wants me to sweat
she makes her home there
stirs up unrest there
waits to grow there.
she hold me there
and holds me there
and holds me there

until she is done.

fuck comfort zones
my muse says

Do you want to be
comfortable
or do you want to
create?

{4.22.11}