HIGHER SELF

In twelve step work the goal is to surrender to the higher power. Most religions are built around the edifice & structures of a supreme, distant Divinity who at once is above & distant from us who watches in judgement & wields a sword of salvation or destruction based on a set of precepts & consequences. I discover that my higher power is in fact my higher self… my true or genuine self who knows who I am & who I am meant to be. I stray. I wander. I lose myself. Then my higher self calls to me. I return. I resurface. I enter. I am who I am supposed to be. My spiritual relationship is not with a distant Divine Other but with Myself… my deepest self… my original self. I ease into the awareness that I am at the Source. Always have been. Always will be. My spiritual journey is towards my higher self. I am calling to me. It is time... to become me.

SING THE BODY ELECTRIC

5

This is the female form, 

A divine nimbus exhales from it from head to foot, 

It attracts with fierce undeniable attraction, 

I am drawn by its breath as if I were no more than a helpless vapour, all falls aside but myself and it.....

Ahh Walt Whitman…. he said it best in his long, single breath lines one hundred & fifty years ago. The human body is miraculously beautiful. Delicate, vulnerable, but resilient & resourceful…a creation of sublime, imbricate complexity. & yes… we are electricity incarnate. Photons transfigured into electrons. The past is imbued with deep sadness. The future seems bleak. But the moment… the Immediate…. it crackles with the flow & charge of the divine currents of boundless energy. I am so grateful to be in this body. I sing the body electric.

BLACK BIRD (singing in the dead of night)

Blackbird singing 

in the dead of night

Take these broken wings 

& learn

to fly

All your life

You were only waiting 

for this moment to arise.

Blackbird fly Blackbird fly

Into the light of the dark black night.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night.
Take these sunken eyes 

& learn 

to see 

All your life
You were only waiting 

for this moment 

to be 

free.

LILIES OF THE MOON

I must not forget. 

Why do I always forget? 

I am guided. 

I am protected. Even in the dead of night. 

I am guided & protected. 

At all times. Even in the dead of night. 

I am guided & protected.

Even in the dead of night.

GLASS ORB

Three in the morning. The city silent. Even the cars sleep. I am alone but not lonely. The quiet angels of the dead of night are cowled in the shadows,  dark wings folded, they watch over me. I am guided & protected. The moon, full as a crystal ball,  motionless...  high in the cobalt blue. One still point. A fulcrum. Breathless. This moment is enough. There is nothing to add. Nothing to take away. Be still my restless spirit. Be still.

RAVEN

I never knew about the raven till  I went north of the Arctic Circle. The Raven humbled me. Humans see themselves as superior beings… lords of this world. Raven teaches me we are simply part of an intricate, intertwined web of sentient beings. Ravens are aware…. perhaps more aware than we are. They play. They fly like the wind itself. They are resourceful. They adapt. They survive. They thrive in hardship. They are of their environment but also above & beyond this mortal realm. Their feathers are black as the moonless night. Their eyes shine like neutron stars. The Raven is the ambassador of “the true North, strong & free” where you can actually see the the stars at night. When I grow weary of the stacked, airless cubicles we live in, I think of the Raven & I know it is going to be alright.

DOVE

My brother Segun asked me to paint a dove. I did not truly know about doves until the moment I first dipped my brush into the white paint. That first daub of white opened my eyes anew. Highly intelligent, one of the great aerialists, the dove flies across continents to return to its place of origin. The dove is the messenger bird. As symbol, the bird embodies both the beauty of Aphrodite & the essence of the Holy Spirit. As the flood waters recede Noah knows the great journey is over when the dove returns with the olive branch. It is the moment of redemption. You & I feel the cool waters on our fevered brows. A gentle breeze brushes our faces. As if wings were stirring the very ether. Look up. Above us the white bird rises to the Heavens. A pure white bird. Pure white. White.