My Mother's Mother

The poem below is by my eternally young and beautiful sister, Heidi, who took her own life about seven years ago this time of year. We miss her deep wisdom, creativity, intelligence and love. We will see her and hold her in our arms again, that we know. I took a little editorial license, so it is not exactly as she wrote it. Thanks much to Shahara Crist, Heidi's best friend and soul sister for publishing this on her blog and making my day meaningful in all the maddness.

My Mother's Mother

My mother was made from warm red sand
And cool water from the San Juan
Her bright eyes were part of the clear desert sky.
Her heart's like the desert's hot sun.

She was nurtured in Bluff's deep canyons
With water from crystal clear artesian springs.
Soft sand and red rock were her playground.
Wild wind and sweet sagebrush her friends.

She grew in mystery and beauty and grace
With cliff flowers twined in her hair
Until another of desert's loved children
Was given my mother to wed.

Twenty springs have now passed;
Winds have shifted the sands.
Desert mourns the loss of her daughter.
Far to the north a woman waits,
She dwells in the mountain's dark shadow.

But red sand still runs through her veins
And the desert primroses calls her home.
The Desert is my mother's mother.

Found the Best of All Poets and Poems

My wonderful friend, Darioush Khaledi who owns the Darioush Winery in Napa, sent me a book called The Gift by Hafiz, the great Iranian Sufi master. I gobbled this book up in one night like a hot fudge brownie, and already have marked all my favorites. This guy lived in the 1300's, and his poems are originally in Farsi, the true language of poets and love. Very hard to translate, but the translator really "updates" the meaning into modern lingo.

Taste this one and see what you think. I think everyone should buy this book. These poems are spiritual, funny, uplifting, and clever as can be. I really needed this poem just when I found it, so Hafiz was watching over me with The Friend.

Your Mother and My Mother

Fear is the cheapest room in the house.
I would like to see you living
In better conditions.

For your mother and my mother
Were friends.

I know the Innkeeper
In this part of the Universe.
Get some rest tonight,
Come to my verse again tomorrow.
We'll go to the Friend together.

I should not make any promises right now,
But I know if you
Pray
Somewhere in this world -
Something good will happen.

God wants to see
More love and playfulness in your eyes.
For that is your greatest witness to Him.

Your soul and my soul
Once sat together in the Beloved's womb
Playing footsie.

Your heart and my heart
Are very, very old
Friends.

The Gods in Their Sandbox

The Gods in Their Sandbox

I don't mean to be sacrilegious,
But I am intrigued.
I just wish I had been there!
At the very, very beginning.
So I could tell you
What was it REALLY like
When the Gods got together
To express their creative genius,
And formed "worlds without number".

Didn't they have the most incredible fun?
Can you imagine -- their depth of knowing...
Their "beyond" scientific expertise?
Their perfect artistry?
Their pure joy?
Their delicious anticipation
And their incredible sense of humor?
Woven into everything.
Everywhere.

If we really look,
The evidence speaks through the millennia
And the eternities,
From the incomprehensible complexity of the brain
To the increasing evidence of a "soul" or "spirit"
Brilliantly capped with the exquisite sense of humor
Engendered in a Praying Mantis, a Sea Horse
A Giraffe, Wildebeest or an Elephant.
Or, the ONLY "you" and "I".

Some of us
Might pay more attention to stories
About "mysteries of the deep"
Or about "magnificent" or "monstrous" beings
Or "carnivorous plants"....

No matter what or how you observe
If you think and focus, you'll see
That the the Gods had fun
Serious fun
Experimenting....
Like kids in a sandbox.....
With play dough ... or legos ... or crayons.
They progressed
With wild and wondrous twists and turns
From kindergarten to "way beyond" PhD's.

Much later,
When the garden was planted,
The land cooled and ready,
The seas full of life
And the earth teaming with creatures;
The Gods tossed exact replicas of their own genes
Into a giant salad spinner
And with each twist and turn,
Tossed out a totally, beautifully unique individual.
One by one.
A spirit.
One of a kind.
Billions!
Every one, different versions of each other
And their makers!

Hey, that's us!

And that is where the story begins........

My Husband

Ode to David.
He's 54.
Damn good looking.
Smart, kind, loyal, good to the core.

Motorcycle maniac.
Mountain man and hermit.
Lover of nature.
Simple tastes,
Natural class
And great genes.

Rich in compassion.
Deep, soulful, spiritual.
Passionate historian, geographer,
Knower of wonderful trivia.
Master storyteller.

A Renaissance man
Born 100 years past his time,
In a far away fairy tale world.
No fan of technology!

Gentle, patient, temperate.
Friend, comforter, advocate.
My love for life and beyond.

Here he comes!
So handsome.
No ego, a casual confidence.
Heart pitter-patters....
My David!

Trademark jeans and a t-shirt,
Smell of old spice and Crest,
Day or two of tickley whiskers.
Warm strong arms.

28 years ago tomorrow
We said "I do".
A million more to go.
I hope we get a little longer!