Dancing

Rainmaker dances, a wild electric dance, she courts thunder to come clap alongside her, she calls her sisters to join her trance.

There are four rainmakers dancing, their electric hair streaming wildly white, black eyes flashing as feet pound minty music.

The sound of rain pouring comes, thunder claps loudly, and black clouds roll their eyes.  They blink and tears stream down, showering daily.

Grasses lay on their side beaten, thunder rattles raising rooftops until the hairs on Mothers arm stand on end. Continue reading

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What The Rose Did . . .

What the Rose did to the Cypress, A Persian Tale from The Brown Fairy Book, by Andrew Lang, [1904]

Once upon a time a great king of the East, named Saman-lalposh, had three brave and clever sons—Tahmasp, Qamas, and Almas-ruh-baksh. One day, when the king was sitting in his hall of audience, his eldest son, Prince Tahmasp, came before him, and after greeting his father with due respect, said: ‘O my royal father! I am tired of the town; if you will give me leave, I will take my servants to-morrow and will go into the country and hunt on the hill-skirts; and when I have taken some game I will come back, at evening-prayer time.’ His father consented, and sent with him some of his own trusted servants, and also hawks, and falcons, hunting dogs, cheetahs and leopards. Continue reading

Sketi

The apple tree’s are fruitalicious once more. A welcome delight after last year when they rested with neither flower nor fruit! While gathering apples to cook applesauce and share with friends I remembered this yarn told and shaped with Anousheh from many moon’s ago . . . reposting here from my blog of poems and tales.

Dreamsong: Vision & Wyrd

Deep in the woods lived a herd of deer. One day they heard the apple tree calling to them. They held council about the matter, for out of the woods and under an oak tree lived a ferocious beast. The herd was terrified of this beast who they would certainly have to pass to get to the apple tree. While they were in council the younger does and some fawns were peeking out from between the hickories, pines, and poplars. They were looking at the sleeping beast and longing to go to where the apple tree was calling. Finally, one of them couldn’t stand it anymore!

The littlest doe stepped out of the woods, and walked toward the apple tree through the leaves . . . . crunch crunch crunch crunch.

The beast with fangs as long as skinning knives, ears as big as satellites, claws as long as daggers…

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Here Comes the Sun

I started this collage before the solar eclipse in August, and just finished it during a wet spell.  Cool days, chilly damp nights, and water spilling out from above in downpours and drizzles . . . while it feels like ‘so much’ rain, really it’s not.  We listen to stories about flooding in Texas and Louisiana, Bangladesh, Nepal, and India, moving to Pakistan, and the versatility of water, from nourishing to devastating, it’s numerous qualities does more than amaze. Continue reading

Unschooling my Spirituality

Had to share this piecing . . .

A Muddy Life

IMG_3356_2I grew up with two imposed givens in life—education and religion. Education happened in school, a place I was obliged to go Monday through Friday. Religion, reserved for Sundays, was fortified and demonstrated by my family’s regular attendance at church and rewarded with warm donuts and scalding coffee served in styrofoam cups in the community hall. We usually skipped that part in order to be the first to get out of the parking lot.

These two obligations were not of my choice and I never really questioned either until I had children. Two uniquely designed, impossibly small bodies imprinted with years and years of genetic scrambling and combined ancestral traits and yet I didn’t see them as part of me, or as part of my husband, but rather as two free souls who chose us as parents. My husband and I have always described our children’s births as special occasions…

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