Kaleidoscope Eyes

A friend of mine has a great love of kaleidoscopes! I was fascinated by them as a kid, even the old-fashioned ones made of patterned cardboard and whatever else goes into these wands of magic. But thanks to my friend, I learned there are quite phenomenal kaleidoscopes, sleek and beautiful, with gold plating and crystals wombed snugly yet gently in the inner chamber. Whenever we saw a kaleidoscope collection, it was exciting and contagious to experience the joy she had, swiveling the gorgeous interconnected parts to form such incredible patterns of colored stones or filaments (or crystals).

I heard from Spirit that all of us have the shards (our small stories) of our Life Kaleidoscope. We allow our Kaleidoscope (our Self) to house the shards, both the amazing and the not-so-amazing memories of our “Eye” as “I.”

Every day, the Kaleidoscope of “I” can and does look different. It depends partially upon how we look into the eyepiece. Whether we hold the kaleidoscope in dim light or bright and brilliant light. Our “I’s” look distinct each and every day. Maybe every hour. Or perhaps each minute. We are ever-changing. We hold onto our ‘scope and have the power to see our shards almost like a mini-life review, especially when we hold it up to the light. And perhaps the murkiness of our shards when we tilt it away from the light.

MORE MORE MORE

Crones –

Cranes

Birds of epoch era

            To all, there would be

Skirting by

Or hummingbirds

Our flight

In life

Seems workable

Until we run

Into the glass of doors and windows

The impact stings but serves

To remind us

That, in general, we are translucent, and our very veins and vanes

Seek their own life

I, Crone now, nearing life’s transition

 But look to the ancients for our inspiration

And burrow farther into the home of Self

No military clock

Not in my life.

No trampling to be a MacMansion-ite

That begs content to the play the

Elaborate games of wit and sarcasm

“kinky boots”

No more to wear

Perspective from the grand ship to exit into space

Back there – home woven

And being quiet, please

And being interested in the diligence

Of living life

Not with measured precision

But measured comradery

Seeing earth and starships and planetary influence as we watch our breathing

Curdling screams of primordia-ity

==================

L e m u r i a

Ancient conch,

Come,

Allow my

Ear to

Transcend

Times and

Souls

Not lost at all

Caverned in time’s

Travail

Looking forward

Looking backward

In city-splendor

Of commune—

            It— 

            Ties.

There,

Where we were—

With not more

Than perfumed flowers

As gifts for one another…

What more was expected?

No  thing!

Gifts of our pilgrimage. 

Now do we explore

Beating hearts still?

Yes!

Longing for

Times within Lemuria’s

Treasured shorelines

It is the captive still

Within this One Soul

Longing to transcend

Modern myths

And lodge again

Within

The memory,

Within the

Heartland

Of home.

For those impressed with

Knowledge of then

Bring it forth

Bring it forth

As a balance now

Of heart and love.

It will allow the masks

To be brought down

Hiding

Eyes that

Know each other

That find each other.

Spirit sides—

Creating mysteries of

Our

Maneuvers

To hold the candles

High.

In vigil

For our hearth,

Our home

Our one heart.

We know you

Still!

(received by

Nannci    9/4/03)