An event the City of Wausau looks forward to every year. Seeing our favorite artists, discovering new treasures, and best of all, bumping into friends. “Stop” and take in the inspiration.
Festival of Arts
Art immersion Live jazz mood set White tents, painted canvas Air filled with swing, chatter, and talk of cheese curds as strollers take in art. Our art like fresh air for the soul Something for everyone Especially bumping into friends Waves across the square Hugs and high “hi” voices Connecting Young, old coupled hands entwined Love of cutting boards, fine art and each other.
Even 20 years later, there are a lot of emotions around this day when the twin towers in New York City were bombed and collapsed. What we felt after the horror, was love. Remember that feeling of love, of pulling together.
9/11 Day of Remembering
The day the world stopped the day we got perspective the day we loved and hugged and called old friends and cherished the people in our lives cherished our life realizing it can be taken away.
The anniversary of tragedy becomes a day to remember remember to love and all that matters is love.
At my happy place today…ah…. The only electricity is in me and nature. A place where I can read in my rocking chair and nap and create. Wrote this poem there today. Enjoy!
This Place Fills Me
Ticking clock adds energy to the small room with windows and doors open electric breeze flows through with the bee and milkweed seed. Bee Balm tea and red wood incense cleanse me, clear me. This place fills me from tree root to divine sky I shine I glow!
After a few busy weeks, I got a day to do my favorite things: rock, ready, write (and nap). A true day of rest. This poem came from a mix of my reading about the Northern World between 800 and 1100 AD, eating chocolate and drinking fresh picked wild Bergamot tea in my rocking chair surround by the forest. Heaven. Enjoy the funky poem.
Day of All Days
I have drunk from Odin’s mead of poetry, Mead of Suttungr, words birthing from my fingers threaded through my heart fed by the source Yggdrasil. These words on this day, a day of all days. Surrounded by trees best friend to gods and man alike. Feeling the same breeze, the same sweet smell of summer as the ancestors on this day in circular time marked only by words shared and tasted. Hear me beloveds warriors, wives, tenders of land and lambs this is the day to feast and emanate joy for this is the day of all days the last and the first.
Do you ever sit outside with eyes closed and just listen. We feast so much with our eyes that we forget we can “see” with our ears as well. Here’s the poem from my listening feast.
Close my eyes and rock in small motion forward, back listening. Beauty of nature sounds clunking frogs are resting giving birds and bees the sound stage. Constant tweets and shrills, passing nasalization of a Mallard, mew of catbird, Doppler effect bee, a bird takes flight air compresses under his wings. Something walks through the brush, twig snaps, probably a doe. I nap lulled by the woodsy brand of quiet roused by engines of a hummingbird and the splash of muskrat navigating pond weeds. Maybe that’s why the frogs have muted.
Last night we had a summer storm that lasted about 20 minutes. We quickly drove to the cottage, Chris is fertilize the field and me to finish my glass of wine sitting on the porch to immerse. Lovely. Here is the poem.
Wine in the Wilderness
Wine in the wilderness with the rain approaching Feeling the pressure drop the sky snuggle in. Drops begin to fall on leaves and pond sending ripples through me Faster now Faster More urgent The land-drink Sip of wine Wet and faster Summer storm Drops plunging into my glass Faster Louder, Steady Moist My skin drinks with the fields. There is calm in a storm a kind of awe for rain Sip of wine I go still and feel and breathe and drink with the sumac the brief summer glass.
Sometimes waking up in the night is so wonderful. The stars, the lightning bugs, the moon, the sky…wow. This poem comes from a wind whipped wake up. Enjoy the poem and embrace those little wake-ups.
Midnight wind horsetail tree tops turning the moon on and off like a light switch. Tenacious lightning bugs flicker too as the mottled soup of sky churns overhead. A night of pucker and pluck yet no rain. We hold on with the birds in their nests rocking with gusts and swells. Land like sea is sometimes rough its Sirens the windchime luring us. We pitch and roll and lean into the wind headfirst. This is the best way to take on the unexpected.
This little stone bear randomly came with a book on Spirit Animals. It didn’t seem like bear was right for me until I read its meaning. My primary fear has always been a security fear. The bear is my protector. I can relax knowing she is looking out for me.
The bear is associated with the root chakra. During my years of teaching Yoga, I learned that people tend to carry tension in their jaw, neck, shoulders or hips. It is hips for me so the bear and her influence on the root chakra protect my emotional, spiritual and physical health.
Spirit Animal Bear
Protection Security Respected boundaries around a warm den. Open my root wheel emotional and spiritual self instincts, intuition alert and alive.
Safe place to love fiercely. Safe place to hibernate to rest and rejuvenate. Ever the omnivore round and adaptive hungry for life and love.
I rest in her defenses open my body open my present senses grounded needs met – comfort, safety, belonging making way for playfulness and creativity.
It was my favorite weather yesterday, cool, clouds with some relaxing sprinkles. Perfect to rest and recharge. Enjoy.
Listening to the rain
tap on the saw-tooth oak leaves.
Soft dapples of sound surround.
The white sky so perfect,
Twerps of sweet birds
give melody to the hush of rain.
A forest lullaby
sang to me
on this drowsy day.
A break from the drill of sun
to give the land a drink,
to give me permission to be slow,
rest, and plump with green.
This tea wisdom inspired a poem on the full moon, the full Flower Moon of May.
Last year, I put together a protection pouch for my car. It came in handy last weekend when my car was stolen and promptly found unharmed in minutes. Thank you Marathon County Police Department. To clean and recharge with good energy the items in the pouch, it has been sitting under the full flower moon for three nights. Today it is ready to go back in my car.
Likely you are wondering what goes in a protection pouch: eggs shells, dried sage, cinnamon stick, black tourmaline, and clear quarts tied in a cloth pouch that I embroidered with a protection sigil.
It can’t hurt to have something that attracts safety. Enjoy the poem and notice the moon.
Full Flower Moon
Are not flowers the stars of the earth? – Clara Lucas Balfour.
How wonderful a misty juicy sky holding the full flower moon in a cradle of gray blooms
Moisture and sun and moon to grow the stars of the earth to open our pores and breath and eyes vining in colors and petals planetarium of the fields planetarium of the soul earth and sky our cocoon transforming us into butterflies