Divine Love

In this place I am vast.

Breathe in. Oh beauty, you are mine.

Breathe out. Divine love, enough to share.

On white wing, I sail across the feathered sky and dive beneath the salty water.

I am skin and bone. Naked heart, singing as I rise and crash on the shore.

Rest. Sweet lips taste the day. Winter sun caresses. A reminder of summer’s passion.

The Mystery

Photograph © Jeni McMillan

Minus seven brain freeze

I am too cold to think, seriously! If I wasn’t so stubborn and ethically-motivated, I’d have the heater on. Damn you, environmentally-conscious, save the world conscience, you are ruining my day! I’m home alone so it’s not as though anyone else would notice a little spike in the electricity bill. Jewel Punk has fled to the northern beaches, El Eco put on five layers and pointed his motor bike toward the sun, while Newbie Housemate was last heard of seeking hot babes from OK Cupid. What am I thinking? Another evening with multiple hot water bottles? I’ve just arrived home to minus seven without a back-up plan. Yes, I should be in the Greek Islands. No, I have not bought my ticket. But maybe, just maybe, i will thaw out my brain and follow the guiding star. Carbon footprint noted.

PS. I’m off to the coast tomorrow. See you when I get back.

Beanie weather

Photo © Jeni McMillan

Baring my Soul

It’s time to bare my soul again and admit that I do not know. I have no idea about the powers of attraction. I am uncertain about the future. Sometimes I lose trust in the universe and experience fear. Yet I understand solitude. I have known love and the human condition of complexity and I have touched and been touched by tender hearts across the ocean. But what is love and how do I find it? You are so silly sighs the mountain. You know you know says the Tree. It is all around you laughs the wind as she picks up the brittle leaves and blows them away. The rocks know. They are older than Time. Listen to your heart they say. Love chants deep Oms that vibrate the core of the earth. I feel the rough truth beneath my feet then breathe in the present. It is here, now. I do not have to know a thing.

Tree soul

Photograph © Jeni McMillan

Creating Heartbeat

Find harmony in storms, waves in a full teapot, footsteps beneath the ocean and voices in the vacuum of a star-filled void. Breathe in stillness of the morning air. Awaken the inner child with the mindfulness of the old. Sense the silence in the afternoon light. Soak in the silken sun. Find solitude on the mountain. Share my stolen moments. Live the tumultuous peace that is the beginning of completion. Create. It is no paradox. It is all we can do.

HeartbeatCropped

The Hot Option

Yes, I hit the Big Smoke yesterday, where the glamorous people hang out. Sydney is hot, whereas Canberra is ridiculously cold. Minus seven the other morning. I’m not sure how I’m surviving in my deep freeze of a room. El Eco and I are stalwartly holding off from using heaters to save the world from the melting of the icecaps but, to be honest, I’d prefer a little less ice at the moment. So Sydney is, despite the roar of traffic, a hot option. (Note summer dress in Australian winter)

Thanks to Christal George for the great photo, fabulous food and friendship.

Sydney Opera house

The Gods and the Goddesses dance

With every tiny bubble that escaped from her lungs and rose to the surface, a new life gained force. Silence. The Gods and the Goddesses shook their bones and took her in their arms. Grow wild sang the Tree, for he knew the importance of freedom. Dance sang the Poetess Divine, for she knew the heart of the matter. Paint the sky, sang the Wind of the West. And thus, she took a deep breath and danced like a wild-thing to the end of Time.

In appreciation of friends breathing the same starlight.

https://geokalpataru.wordpress.com/

https://diwatainlalaland.wordpress.com/

https://csisza.wordpress.com/

DSC_0106

Photo copyright Jeni McMillan

Solitary Glory

The magical poetess, Diwata’s musing on musings creates something beautiful between us.

‘I was inspired by the post of Jeni Mcmillan 🙂 Look at her, just beautiful. I was too shy to comment on this post but she inspired me. And I don’t have a photo of me like that so I just wrote the line “You look at my ass…” haha 🙂
https://jenimcmillan.wordpress.com/2015/01/14/and-the-muse-whispers-create/ – the photo is not showing in the link but check her blog (if you only have the time) look for the post “And the muse whispers create” dated 14 Jan, 2015′

Diwata in Lalaland

In the absence of stars
You gaze upon every night
I’m here with you
Let me be your song
Your masterpiece
Your poetry
Gently touch my heart
Remind it to beat,
To sing the melody
A song of you and me
Spill your words and colors
All over my body
Stretch your creative thread
Sprinkle colorful feathers,
Scented flowers
Cracks of my smile
Give birth to light
You see your Self
In my eyes

The dawn is kissing the horizon
You yawn
Tired
But your hand cannot resist…
Finishing touches
Kisses on the forehead
Three steps away
Two steps turn
I feel your embrace
From behind…
I say, See you around!
You look at my ass…
I see the truth…

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