Bifor ai dai

August 14, 2007

Bifor ai dai

For Ken. For friendship. 

Before the day
When I will pass across the river
Walking on the invisible bridge
Where The Luminous waits

Where The Luminous Beings
Are waiting for my soul
To take me in their hands
To lead me to The Land. 

To the land where The Sacred
Is weaving with silence
On Fathomless Depths
The eternal tissue of life. 

¡ Oh, soul of mine !
Before the day when I will die
Help me to know the essential truth of life,
To Learn to give thanks,
for the wind, for the sun,
for the elk on the dawn
for the smile of my daughter
for the joy of the son,
for the mystery of life. 

Before I die,
Help me to get a glimpse
Of this eternal life.
Before I die, my soul,
Bifore aidai. 

Isaias Nobel
Agosto 10, 2007.

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Some haikus

August 13, 2007

Liberty revealed

   Itself amid turbulence

 Calmed by silent mind.

         ***

Ignorance obscured

    The horizon that beckons

 On illumined path.

       ***

Ones being within

   Struggles to reach the light

To live to Become.

 

Thelma Juarez

Written while on personal retreat
O
n Reconciliation-Aug. 8, ‘07

Some Verses

August 13, 2007

Water seeks its own level

Yet must move on.

Stagnation invites creatures

From the deep while the ocean,

Vast, infinite patiently waits.

Life’s essence is the same
In its quest for fruition.
It sleeps only to rest to say awake-
Or remain asleep while a glorious dawn
Ushers in a- never-ending –
New Beginnings.

          ****

When in reverie
    Some sounds and movement can jolt
When in wakefulness
    Same sounds and movement
Are rhythm and rhyme
    Of the music of life
In its eternal dance.

                  

Thelma Juarez 

Began Aug.10, completed Aug.11, 07

Our Sacred Land

August 8, 2007

Oh, my friend,
On the path, on the golden path,
Come along with me
Come along with us
With our naked hands
We are the sacred children
Walking together on the dawn
Looking for the marvelous
For the light
Asking for astonishment
With fully opened hearts
Entering the Land, the Poetic Land
Where gods and human beings
Meet to celebrate creation
To celebrate the Universe
To celebrate life
That Land where heaven and earth
Are no more opposed
Where mind and feelings
Become the wings
Of  an unique, wonderful bird,
That leads us to discover the Sacred
That lives in all of us.

Isaias Nobel

La Cazadora, august 5, 2007.

 It spoke to me
Yes, it spoke to me with
Wildflowers and butterflies,
Greensward grabbing my legs
As if to say, “We belong to each other.
I am the land, you the human and I
Know that you will nurture me.
Let me grow in beauty and in spirit,
To become a holy place
For peace-seekers, place-seekers,
Wanderers with Open hearts.” 

I have stood on this land in the rain,
The air cold and snapping breathless at
My heels…
I have been breathless with the heat,
Running from shade to shade like
A furtive animal, so afraid that my lungs
Will catch fire…

But the land endures and gives itself still
To seekers of respite or peace or,
For that someone stopping at the stream,
Sopping a cloth in cool water, taking a moment
To lie in the grass and gaze upon the sky dreaming
Dreams that float away…

“You are welcome”, the Land says, “I embrace you. 
I am land and spirit, just One, and you are
One with me.  Welcome.”

 

                                        Jeanie Burke
                                     7/28/07

And I Sing

August 6, 2007

With open arms.

The sun facing me and behind me

                                    Heart Universe.

Water of morning.

With open hands

full of nothing.

Life that inhabits and encompasses.

This is how I ask you this evening.

This is how I toast and celebrate myself

with the strength of all eras.

and I sing songs that are rivers

eternal beings.

and I sing oceans, and I sing winds

and I sing and I open myself wide

free

whole

and I sing

and I sing


… y canto

De brazos abiertos.

El sol de frente y a espaldas.

                                            Corazón Universo.

Agua de la mañana.

De manos abiertas

llenas de nada.

Vida que habita y rodea.

Así te pido en esta tarde.

Así me brindo y me festejo

con la fuerza de todas las eras.

y canto cantos que son ríos

seres eternos.

y canto mares, y canto vientos

y canto y me abro de par en par

libre

entero

y canto

y canto

– Angel Crego

Days in May

August 6, 2007

Cordillera hewn from enigma
tell me your secrets,
I who come to approach your entrails
my forehead smooth
and my eyes swept with light and air.

Transfixed heights
that soothe my days
with your undeniable existence.
Speak to me.

But,
Is it your profile or mine that I invoke, retracted and small?
Are we perhaps only hard pinnacles clutched by the earth?
Or are we also something weightless and dancing?

 I believe I understand.
We are as much smooth slope as broken scarp,
a garnish of happenings and landscapes.

 I believe I see.
In us the world is reflected
and we project it.
Without being outside more than inside
we are two mosaics of the universe.

 And we are beauties in love with the possibility of loving,
waiting.

Steep and watching,
waiting.

Unfolded and shy,
waiting.

 In love, consistent, alert.
With skirt hems embroidered with stone, froth and springtime moss,
we are one,
clamoring for the day of true communion.

  Punta de Vacas, May 3, 2007
Patricia Rios
Translation – Trudi Richards

Días de Mayo  

Cordillera tajada de enigma
cuéntame tus secretos,
que vengo a arrimarme a tu entraña
con la frente suave
y los ojos volados de luz y aire.

 Altura enclavada
que me ablandas los días
con tu existencia innegable.
Háblame.

Pero,
¿Es tu perfil o el mío el que invoco replegada y pequeña?

 ¿Somos acaso sólo duro monte agarrado a la tierra?
¿O somos también cosa ingrávida y danzante?

Creo que comprendo.
Somos tanto tersa ladera como escarpa arrugada,
una guarnición de sucesos y paisajes.

Creo que veo.
En nosotras se refleja el mundo
y lo proyectamos.
Sin ser afuera más que adentro
somos dos mosaicos del universo.

 Y somos bellas enamoradas de la posibilidad de amar,
a la espera.

Empinadas y atisbando,
a la espera.

Desplegadas y tímidas,
a la espera.

Enamoradas, consecuentes, alertas.
 Con falda de ruedo bordado de piedra, espuma y musgo de primavera,
somos una
que clama la llegada de la comunión verdadera.

Punta de Vacas, 3 de mayo 2007
Patricia Rios