I Wait for the Sunrise

 

I WAIT FOR THE SUNRISE

 

I wait for the sunrise,

feel the chill in the desert air,

know the smell of dew on creosote 

and the sound of coyote’s last call.

Soon the sun will come,

the chill will go and the dew will dry.

The creatures of the day will replace the creatures of the night.

Fox, rattlesnake, prairie dog, hawk,

each with its own purpose – its own Divine holy life,

and they move forth in their world with no concern 

for what they will wear,

or what others will think

or where they will be when the darkness returns.

 

I wait for the sunrise.

The Universe turns up the volume on the Cicadas

and the buzzing rises to a dull roar.

The glow on the horizon becomes a bright bump of color

slowy expanding into the fullness of its blazing round.

Sun floods the desert with its brilliance

while four grey-brown lizards, basking in its glow,

never worry, not even for one moment,

about who is paying for all this Light.

 

I wait for the sunrise.

The desert is a harsh place but the cycle of life is strong.

The hearty survive, 

without malice - without hateful intent.

Life simply continues

whatever that requires.

 

I wait for the sunrise

and imagine a place with no wars

No hatred

Peaceful coexistence

Living in the moment – filled with hope

Being what we were created to be, every day, all the time.

 

The ever-changing song of the Mockingbird tells it all:

“Hope is everywhere.  Nature is at peace!”

Imagine that.

Imagine that kind of peace and hope in our human world.

 

I wait for the sunrise… 

and the rise of peace for all creatures on earth.

 

LAE 2004

A Talk with my Therapist

 

I've been in therapy in various forms for almost 40 years.  I am still here today because of some skilled, caring and compassionate  therapists who really made a difference.  I also had therpists who were clueless and just made things worse.  The following dialogue was written about 10 years in, when I was disillusioned, frustrated and ready to quit. Life was a solid black 5,000 piece jigsaw puzzle with no flat edge pieces... and it felt like my therapists just kept stealing puzzle pieces when I wasn't looking. But ever hopeful, I kept trying.  This was an imaginary conversation with my therapist that explains how I felt. (Sarcastic humor never fails me)

THERAPIST:  Just flap your wings and fly like a bird.

ME:  That's it?  Fly like a bird? 

THERAPIST:  That's it. You've tried everything else.  If you can just fly, you'll be okay.         

ME:  But I'm not a bird.

THERAPIST:  There you go with your negative thinking again.  You'll never get well if you keep thinking like that.

ME:  I don't know how to fly.

THERAPIST:  Of course not.  You've never done this before.  But that doesn't mean you can't do it.  It's just unfamiliar to you.

ME: So if I learn to fly, I'll finally be sane?

THERAPIST:  You got it.  Flying equals mental health.

ME:  Okay.  You're my therapist.  I trust you.

THERAPIST:  Good attitude!

 ME:  I'll just climb up here on this cliff and get my balance... like this?

THERAPIST:  That's right.

 ME:  It's really a long way down from here.  A long long way down.

 THERAPIST:  That's okay.  You'll be flying.  It won't matter.

 ME:  I'll be flying.  Right.  Now I just flap my arms really fast...

 THERAPIST:  And then you leap off the cliff.

 ME:  Right.  Flap my arms really fast and leap off the cliff.  You're sure this will make  me well?

 THERAPIST:  Positive.

 ME:  Did it work for you?

 THERAPIST:  Oh, I've always known how to fly.  I'm the therapist.

 ME:  Right.  I forgot.  Just flap my arms really fast and jump off the cliff, and I'll fly and be well.  Here I go.

THERAPIST:  Don't forget the Swahili part.

 ME:  The what?

THERAPIST:  The Swahili part... where you say "Flying will make me well," in Swahili.

ME:  But I don't speak Swahili.

THERAPIST:  There you go with that negativity again.  You have to give yourself more credit.

 ME:  But I really don't speak Swahili!  What do I say?

THERAPIST:  Just make it up.  You have to trust me.  Just these two little things and you'll be well.  Isn't that worth the risk?

ME:  Just make it up, huh?  Okay.  Move over to the edge, flap my arms really fast  and say, um, "chee chee koo la kee lee!"  Flying will make me well!  I believe it will work.  "Mo ta tee lo kambwa!'  I'm taking the risk. I'm trusting the process. "Koo loo tamba leetu." 

 I'm jumping.

    I'm flapping.

         Am I flying?

            Feels like falling.

                Definitely falling.

                    Why 

                         didn't   

                            I 

                             learn

                                 Swahili??

 

 

I Am Still Here

 

 

I am Lori.

 

I am mother, grandmother, sister, aunt, friend

I am frightened and suspicious of love  - I love far too deeply for safety

 

I am a survivor of soul-bursting sexual, emotional and religious abuse

I have suffered great pain at the hands of those who said they loved me.

I am actress, comedian, singer, performer

I am rarely comfortable in my skin unless there is an audience, a role, and a costume.

 

I am a little tall and not at all thin

I am a former athlete now trapped in a pain-racked body that sometimes can barely move.

 

I am bright, expressive, witty, creative

I am a star-shaped peg in a life of round and square and triangular holes

 

I examine things too much, feel too deeply, cry too easily

I am often overwhelmed with emotions I cannot contain or control

 

I have sometimes been far too trusting, so now I rarely trust.

I long to have faith, but skepticism screams more loudly

 

I keep my drawbridge up most of the time

I am more faithful than a Collie when I do let someone in.

 

I am outraged by spiritual “Pollyanna-ism” 

I do not believe that everything can be fixed with happy thoughts and affirmations.

 

I sometimes knowingly choose to keep both eyes squeezed shut

I fight not to stare at all the broken things I cannot repair.

 

And yet…

 

I am still breathing in and out – in that order.

I am still believing there might be a "do-differently.”

I am not a quitter.  I am not lazy.  I am not through with this run.

I keep my head enough above the water to breathe in and out – in that order..

 

I am still capable of great love and great creativity.

I still dream of an "adjusted" life  - or of finding acceptance of this one.

 

I am exhausted down to my bone marrow

and yet…

I am still here.

Missing Miracles (2009)

 

I came looking for God's face

and missed

sunlight's dappled path across the lake 

rippling dark water

autumn's palate ablaze all around

 

I came listening for God's voice

and missed

wild honking of glorious gray geese

splash of wing on water

wind singing through brilliant leaves

 

I came yearning to feel God's presence

and missed

warm sun on my cheek

earth solid beneath my feet

breath... and breath...and breath again

 

I came searching for One Mighty Miracle

and in my frantic quest

missed ONE THOUSAND!

 

There's a Mermaid in My Swimming Pool (or "A Pandemic Fantasy at My Fabricated Beach House)

 

There’s a mermaid in my swimming pool

I didn’t know was there

Until I took a dip and got

All tangled in her hair

 

Her locks were long and straight and thick

As gold as fields of wheat

It floated all about me

And wrapped around my feet

 

I looked up at her mermaid face

I saw her mermaid eyes

I’d seen some weird things in my pool

But this one took the prize.

 

I reached down and unwrapped my legs

My heart pounding with fear

But when I caught my breath, I said

“What are you doing here?

 

This is my private backyard pool

With only me admitted

The gate is locked – no one allowed

Big fish are not permitted”

 

She stood up on her tail fin

And started in to talking

She spoke the words quite quickly

As I just stood there gawking

 

Her English was a little rough

Talked faster than expected

But as I listened, I heard words

Like virus and infected.

 

I ask her to slow down a bit

So I could understand her

She took a breath, her blue eyes wide

At me she took a gander

 

Then fish-girl started in again

She said the whales were singing

About the dolphin’s upset

And bad news they were bringing

 

They all decided Google

was the only way to go

She typed in the word pandemic

And then watched the bad news grow

 

So the fish began researching

The whales and dolphins too

The crabs and lobsters, rays and eels

All seeking what to do

 

And when they found an answer

Truth that they could not ignore

They chose to leave their ocean homes

And head in for the shore.

 

They swam along the beaches

And raised their noses high

To find that special chlorine smell

That said a pool was nigh

 

Then next in line would leap right in

They worked hard not to splash

Each creature stayed so very still

They didn’t flap or thrash

 

And up the coast they swam until

Each one of them had places

That Sea Span said were free of germs

Not even tiny traces

 

My mouth still hung agape as I

Absorbed the things she told me

She begged me not to make her go

She wheedled and cajoled me

 

I pondered all the things she said

About how pool chlorine

Would keep away all viruses

And help us all stay clean

 

So finally, I told her yes

My pool was hers to share

And then before I knew it

4 more creatures joined us there.

 

There’s a mermaid in my swimming pool

3 squids and one sardine

I live there too, all pruny now

But no Covid 19!