Come sit by the Fire

Come, sit by the fire.

Come

sit by the Fire.

Your tea is ready .

The stew  is on the hearth.

Come warm yourself

to your hearts desire.

Come my beloved,

my Friend,

 Come sit by the fire.  

You have friends coming over?

Bring them along !

Bring your  fiddle !

 Bring your songs !

Make certain

you have

your dancing

slippers on .

The women  

have the

bannock ready.  

We have the stew

of course some pie.  

We are celebrating life.  

No need to ask “why?”.

Today,

 we are alive

in celebration.  

We stand together.

We laugh.  

We cry.

Come my beloved

Friends,

Sit by the Fire.

The Holy Fire

burns within

for only just so long…

Then it needs

to express Itself in song.

Come my beloved Friends 

Sit by the Fire.

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Tangled branches scratching the hearth ~ Dedicated to you the reader

Tangled branches scratching the hearth

Cutting deeply into the heart.

Promises to go or to stay.

There will be pain either way.

Why this rippling in the pond?

Why had the traveler stayed away  so long?

How can I help them?

How deep is the silence that will not last?

How can the healing come until it is past?

Will the deux machina fall from the sky?

What is the lesson here?

Why do I ask why?

Let go and let God…occurs to me.

It is their path.  

It is their choice.

It is their destiny.

Then the heart speaks again

“This is my family 

I want the pain to end.”

Tangled branches scratching the hearth

Cutting deeply into the heart.

Promises to go or to stay.

There will be pain either way.

(Dedicated to you the reader as you walk through the challenges ~ with compassion from my deepest love)

No more kisses on the Wind

Two “blocks” of wood crossed over one another, as they burn in a fireplace (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

In their last lifetime together

He was seldom by her side.

He had promises to keep.

“I will be with you in the next lifetime…

My darling wife…“

As he blew  kisses on the Wind

The storms of life were raging.

The woman she was aging.

The ‘one who was on his way’

had not arrived.

She lit the candle.

Scrubbed the floor.

All was in readiness and more.

The fruit was dried, the pickles done;

She had worked from dawn till setting sun.

Still the “one who was on his way’ had not arrived.

Why am I still dreaming a maiden’s dreams?

I know the score.

It is not always what it seems.

Still she cleaned, gathered and spun.

She worked from dawn till setting sun.

In the night she dreamed a long dream.

“I could not come

to you this

lifetime wife.

I had hard living.

I had much strife.

I will keep

my promise

to be ever

by your side.

I will be

sending you

kisses on the wind.

My love I cannot hide.”

In the morning

the dream was done.

How would she live

on without ‘the one’?

She shook her head.

She started fresh bread.

She made new plans

as she made the bed.

Plans for herself, now,

 that she was forever free.

Plans to travel,

there were places to see.

She sat in the evening,

toast and tea for one.

Making her fire

upon the hearth,

she started to sing…

“I need no kisses

upon the wind.

I stand alone,

as it has always been.

I have my freedom,

no need to roam.

I will enjoy my own  fire.

I will love my home.

I have no need

for promises

from lifetimes past.

I have a love within me.

A love that lasts.“

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Under the funnel

Image via Wikipedia

I am standing

under the funnel

of blessings…

Spirit

is healing,

holding,

 maintaining,

caressing.

Laying in the moonlight

as it wains away

I am filled

with love for service

just for one more day.

I may live my  life moment by moment

…..but I pay my rent by the month…

my dues in service …

and my choices in the consequences.

A woman full of love walked in the forest.

She met a snake who appeared to be dying frozen in the cold.

She lovingly bent down, sheltered the snake in her warm coat.

She carried the snake to the hearth….built a fire.

While warming the milk for her guest…a poisionious snake….she sang a song of love.

With the song on her lips, warm love in her heart, she offered the milk to the snake.

In gratitude, the snake bit her.

“Why, did you do that, after all the love I gave you?” she cried as she was dying.

The snake slithered close to her….crying its snake tears….

“You knew what I was, when you picked me up.”

I may live my  life moment by moment

…..but I pay my rent by the month…

my dues in service …

and my choices in the consequences.

Building the fire

Image via Wikipedia

I know you are

many long days on the trail.

I sense your fatigue

 am building a fire

in the hearth of the cabin.

There are cinnamon buns,

homemade beans

and a large moose casserole

with bannock.

Dried meat, and twice turned salt cod

waiting in the pantry.

Jar and jars of preserves

 precious medicines from nature,

herbs and healing balms.

As for me, my love…

I have cut a hole in the ice….

chopped and stacked

the wood weeks ago…

Prepared a brand new quilt

with  stacks of books

close to the window for the best light.

I have written a new song.

Bathed in lavender for hours. 

Made new curtains.

Danced with bear and deer.

They  told you were coming 

Coming home at last.

I am putting on the kettle

Taking off my apron

as I hear 

Your whistle in the forest. 

The fire within the hearth

Is not burning as brightly as

The fire within.