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Reflections

Category: Poetry

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Visual Meditation: Birds Being Set Free

Into the Wild The cancer began so small, just a hummingbird caught in the house. It could be gently removed without much fuss, flying from the window, opened. But, a whole other nest was found. Hiding in the corner, this cancer was not so innocent. As the eggs cracked and babies grew, they brought a frenzy and chaos within. Although these were just small wrens, the surgeon wielded his knife. Poison comes next since traces of birds slipped into narrow passageways. I will take this path but still resist my body becoming a battlefield. No wars in my veins. No

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The Feast of Birth

The Earth will be going on a long time Before it finally freezes; Men will be on it; they will take names, Give their deeds reasons. We will be here only As chemical constituents- A small franchise indeed. Right now we have lives, Corpuscles, Ambitions, Caresses, Like everybody had once- Here at the year’s end, at the feast Of birth, let us bring to each other The gifts brought once west through deserts- The precious metal of our mingled hair, The frankincense of enraptured arms and legs, The myrrh of desperate, invincible kisses- Let us celebrate the daily Recurrent nativity

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Shoveling Snow

  I haven’t posted my own art in a couple of days mostly because I have gotten absorbed in sifting through photo bins and selecting more images for future work and then scanning them into the computer to reprint.  I have noticed a little twinge of guilt rise within me — you said you were going to make art every day during Advent, aren’t you letting this preparation of materials take too long?   Ah my inner-taskmaster, I have actually grown fond of her as she often helps me to get things done, however I have also learned to recognize when

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Learning to Fly

Tim You’ve only just arrived  Now you’ve begun to go  My God, how much I love you  How my whole body aches with  The glory that is you.    Constantly changing, sometimes slowly,  Sometimes in one heartbeat    Or the blink of an eye.  Becoming,    always becoming,    your self.    Already my hands rest open  You sitting there in the palm    of my hand  Stretching your wings  Testing the wind  Learning to fly.  -Rebecca Johnson ***** Rebecca was a participant in our most recent Awakening the Creative Spirit program.  She came with perhaps the least background in

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Courage Unparalleled

This journey of making art for Advent has been an illuminating one for me, as I take time to be with the images of people who are a part of my very lifeblood and discover how their stories are precisely my own story.  Sometimes this commitment of making art means just showing up and allowing whatever unfolds to happen, even if it doesn’t feel as done or revealing as some of the other art I have been making. Such is the case with the piece above, it is only a waystation to something else, but I decided that if I didn’t finish a piece one day,

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Snowy Wonder

Yesterday afternoon it began to snow here in Seattle, a fairly unusual occurrence. I had headed off to an art class, but after less than two hours the students kept looking outside and the snow was falling heavy and beginning to pile.  So we all chose to cut our time short so we could drive home before the roads got any worse.  There were a couple of stops on my way home where I was at a stoplight facing downhill and I could see that my car was sliding slowly forward.  As soon as I got home my husband, Tune,

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On Gratitude

Listen with the night falling we are saying thank you we are stopping on the bridge to bow from the railings we are running out of the glass rooms with our mouths full of food to look at the sky and say thank you we are standing by the water looking out in different directions back from a series of hospitals back from a mugging after funerals we are saying thank you after the news of the dead whether or not we knew them we are saying thank you in a culture up to its chin in shame living in

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