HOLDING THE LIGHT

Zaadz . . .
a seed

The bright wind of a new spring catches the pearlspun lace burst from last autumns circles of sunbutter yellow wind sends them spinning into eternity, drinking the air of forever and
this small round hand full of lace on a stem will dance the wind  in a hundred paths, coming to earth in a hundred nestling zaadz,  where a hundred circles of sunbutter yellow will spring in the spring,  swallowing into lace and into another hundred, the round I hold up in the sweet green wind will become thousands millions, sunbutter  swallowed into lace into hundreds into thousands into multi millions  dancing the wind, nestling into the miracle of growth, holy reproduction,  endings bursting into beginnings, the sacred circle of creation,  Sunbutter blooming lace, choreographing the wind, nestling . . .

Zaadz . . .
a seed

I am not sure why I am here, or what my purpose is, but I feel the same sweet green wind of spring sending me out looking for zaadz holding the rounds of lace in a weaving, winding, wind, grace lifting the seeds into the sacred circle of creation . . . eternally interested, everlastingly wondering, I keep seeing miracles, more and more marvels of wonder and I keep picking the sweet, sunbutter circles until the bouquet in my hands is so big I can hardly hold it . . . see! right here in my hand I am holding Happiness! isn’t that a miracle? Happiness who grounds me, encourages me, motivates me, who could help being inspired by Happiness! and look! Cre8beauty!  This seed I just found, whose words are like satin on the soul,  look! I have found Assagi, who knows so much for one so young. See! I have found Storydancer, and OH! the stories she tells!  LOOK! I have found crazydiamond and how many things we share, before we even met, though, of course, we haven’t met, none of us have met . . .I have found Katie who loves ballet and teaches special children, I have found Earth’s Heart, who is a  yarn weaver and tipples crazy stuff! Kay who is launching a Kite, Red Falclon who reminds me that Whoo Hoo! It can all be such a ride! see all the new seeds I find! But OH! Did I ever manage to tell Nishtha
how I made circles of the words we once talked off? Did I ever tell Katrina how I stood on the beach at Camdon, Maine and saw eternity? I am dropping blossoms as I reach for more . . . I never made it to Jena to learn of hands and the Phoenix blooming, I have not told Burt or Jeremiah how their words sometimes get me through bad days. I have not said, some days the pain is  pushed away, by their words  . . . words  that say I am doing  what I am meant to do, that MY words  are reaching someone. These words make my heart leak with sunshine until it feels it will burst . . . but I have not told Burt this. I have not told Jeremiah. I want to read more of Ginny’s poems, to learn of yoga from Helana, from Gwen, I need to know about the  Riki tree, for I feel true healing flowing down this  . . .  this whatever this is. I feel it strong and salient, I smell bruised balm soothing my anguish nerves, just  from looking at Nikki’s small line drawing and I do not understand. I DO NOT understand, but I feel it and I know I need it, but I do not get there, I do not get to Frand’s Tearoom,
or nor sit as often as I would like in the sacred peace of Anna’s Goddess Within, Hulka and I have so much to say, some of it said, but not enough, time, where does all the time go? The sigh of the wind makes me turn and see new seeds, zaddz, more and more, zaadz,  Bonnie is still a Lost Soul, Kels will graduate soon, I didn’t tell Rane how much her music has meant to me . . .

I am amazed, again and again, throughly and exhaustively AMAZED that I can feel so much of someone, from an avatar picture, from a few words from turning and opening my self in their direction,  OH! What we DO NOT KNOW!!!
about relationship, connection, interdependence, WHAT are these seeds teaching us? Wendy flows with friendship, with an understanding, that I can feel from around the earth, that I felt the first time I turned into her stream of being, WHY, HOW do I know this? Venita who wears my mentor’s name, spirit and bone, I feel the fruits of her rich humanity, HOW? Where do my Kate’s feet walk tonight? Have I gathered too much? more than I can hold? but see . . . Starseed sings the Lovesong of the Universe - have you heard it? Look at her, tune to her direction, you can hear it flowing through your bones. She knows. How MUCH she knows. I do not understand, but I keep gathering, until my hands can hold no more. Where is my Sandra tonight? Her beautiful face beside the Lily? I feel the bubbling happiness of Dana kissing her friend, this, I know everyone can feel, I hear the profound meditation, questions, answers that are Metta, like a deep, slow evening chant, Shazz who sings me hope, LadyBear, my neighbor in earth-space and in time, where are Kate’s beautiful feet walking tonight? I feel her steps on the earth. Always.

Some days, I am made glad just by David’s “Hey! OK!” or J.K.’s “Rock ‘Ya’l!” And by Martha in her bunny ears, who can touch me through my child’s face, who can heal me with her words, her energy from so far away, I DO NOT UNDERSTAND, but I reach for the healing with both hands open, do you see the light in Alya’s hands? This is the truth. She holds this light with grace. John, who speaks of “Muse” with me, a word we hold together, in four hands, Willow, my favorite Witch, Peggy J. . . . Oh! there is so much of her I can’t hold it at all, my hands are spilling, I cannot hold it all, where is my Sandra tonight?

Shani taught me that “cold chills” are really Faery Hugs, a fantastic thing to know. And Mary, my strong and valiant twin. She gives me courage and energy with her words, with her images, her understanding of my world ~ Dryadium ~  she gives me heart just by being. Pat, the bright and beautiful Peridot, when I disappear into the words, when I turn invisible, she calls for me. Are you alright? Come back and play. What it means. What it MEANS
to know that someone misses me! Realizes when I am gone and  wants me to come back. I have never seen her face. But I hear her calling. Whatever this is, however it works, I turn into her being, I hear her missing me and I find myself more substantial,  my ghost soaks back into flesh, and I am real. I miss Joy Bringer, can you feel her gone? There is an hollowness in this place . . . this place that doesn’t  exist. It doesn’t you know. There is no such physical place as Zaadz. The blossoms in my hands are imaginary, the people, those Zaadz seeds, they are

more real than anything else in the world. How odd. Brian. A Philosopher, he calls himself. Has Philosophy become more than thought and word, I wonder? What build this elegant place that does not exist? Brian was the first to greet me here. And Matthew. And Katherine Estelle. Her Evening Star appeared in my sky when I first came to this place, it has shown there bright and genuine ever since. On the shelf above my desk are my favorite books “The Tree Whispered” is there. Have you read it? Everyone one earth should read it. When I wake up in the morning I open up to my Zaadz profile and look at my friends list, the first thing I look is to see what Stacey the incredible Teenie Dakini has up today. What a marvelous, singing, triumphant sense of self. Strength. Beauty. Woman. Dakini. Yes. And Lisa, my fellow Goddess, she is teaching me, bringing me back to the dance, back to myself. The Dance! Have you seen Daniel’s avatar? I’ve never seen a photograph that said “WATER” so intensely, Dancer, Choreographer, he explores water and I can feel it . . . feel it flowing . . . HOW?  Sunny will become a journalist with ethics, Bobo has been one for years, I want more time to read their Blogs, I want to read Kyo’s, to learn what Gaia knows of sound, Darshan’s understanding of New Era, c4 Chaos who is a wizard at writing and making things work, I want to look at Tigana’s art, and follow her new words, Jeanie who likes accidental poetry and Joshua who is a code poet, I want to read what Alex’s says, Alex who whirled through the fantastic insanity of November with me, and Samme, my hero, who brought me there, Samme, my teacher, from who I learn about life. See? See why I have so many blossoms in my hands, so many that I cannot hold them? where is my Sandra tonight? In which country? On which continent? I hope she is somewhere with roots, I hope Kate is warm and has chocolate. And I miss that most Vermiscious Knid, I always will. I asked her what she wrote and she replied “Words.” Such Grace. I never saw such Grace. Will Shakespeare loves ya’ Knid. Forever. Will, Will, who wrapped me in the poetry of Leonard Cohen in the most creative, giving way. Joy, the Undefeated Pillow Fight Campaign and Raven, who brought me here, who knows me better than anyone on earth, and probably knew all along.

Cinnamon came to be my friend because I couldn’t find the cinnamon in the cupboard. My reasons are often absurd, off the wall and weird. My letters are long and rambling, I  wonder a lot and I ask questions. I can be extreme. I never say anything that I do not mean. Cinnamon and I spoke of what is coming. You know: WHAT IS COMING.  A crash? A change? The end? A new blooming? And in the face of this, what am I doing? I am picking flowers, gathering seeds, harvesting zaadz. Each one for a reason, though the reasons are odd. And what do I plan to DO with them all?

Have you ever gathered dandelions? The more you pick, the more intensely yellow they are. By the time you have a big handful, it looks as through you really are holding the sun. The yellow begins to rub off on your hands and as you look at the big bouquet your eyes start to hold the color so that even when you glance away you see yellow. Yellow. Sunshine. Bright. Vivid. A hand full of strong, positive energy.

And that is what I am doing. In the face of what is coming, whatever that is? I am holding positive energy. Why? Because I can. Because it is what I can do and I can do it well. If the world goes dark, it will not be because I didn’t hold on to ever bit of light that I could find. I am holding positive energy, I am gathering positive energy, I am building positive energy and I have come to the best place in the world to do it. There are others here doing things more specific, more definite, more explicit. I am doing what I do best. I am writing words. I am painting pictures. I hope to share with others my ability to play, for it is another way of building happiness, seeking the positive, holding the light. That is what I’m here for. I am holding the light.

My hands cannot hold any more blossoms. I set them all down on the grass beside the river and I begin to gather reeds, long, pliable. I gather until I have a huge pile. Then I sit down beside them and beside my golden Zaadz lions, and I begin to weave. I weave with reeds. I weave with words. I am making a basket. It will be a big basket, large and strong , woven with sturdy reeds and words of power. Into it I will put my blossoms, since there are more than my hands can hold, then I will not drop any more and I can go back out into the fields . . . gathering again.

Gathering sunshine, visible light, positive power and holding it . .  Holding it in my arms. In her profile Kes said, “Light a Candle, pass it on.” yes. YES.

Come and join me in the meadow. Weave a basket. Bring a candle. Come and help me hold the light.