Beat sounds music into feeling.

The steps are simple, leading edge.

Our inner-dancer relaxes into it.

Nothing else feels so natural because

we were born for this.

Gravity and inertia align hand and hand

and flow with push and pull.

 

Dancing under the stars

there is no better place than here.

We close our eyes, go inward

and feel our way around a maze of emotions.

We sense new steps just beyond our perception.

Thrill bumps appear on our skin.

 

Inner coaches guide us to understand

lessons, lessons and more lessons until we

dance by focusing on our feelings.

We learn a new routine of

comparing what was felt with present feeling.

Bounces are part of the mix and

twirling is more fun when not resisting.

Jump with unique timing. Don’t quit!

 

General wide sweeps allow consistency

for this dance with no end. Create any floor you like.

It can be anything. Lighten into a joyful tempo

by aligning with what serves you, what thrills you.

 

Frolic in open visas and moves become unfettered. 

Under the gaze of the starlight universe,

what you create is up to you.

Cause you are a part of all this,

 a beacon dancing

bump to bump in moments of here and now.

The frosted trees stand against gray skies.

Everything is still in its own vibration.

I practice turning thought around by

paying attention to my thoughts and emotions.

 

Sometimes fear lets me know that I am drifting

off from what I am striving for.

Working around this contraction, I

practice being positive and focusing on what I want.

And practice some more by

finding beliefs that feel true to me

even when I’m not in the mood.

 

Practice and focus  . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

There are lots of things I have manifested

I have received wonderful things so

serenity and love can happen to me.

I love myself.

I love my guides.

I love my body, my cells they are so precious to me.

Innate body intelligence has become my friend and does whatever I ask.

 I visualize a healthy body and feel it.

 

My emotions let me know how I am doing

and I keep practicing. . . . . .

 

I have my own unique resources to help me.

When my mind is too critical, I realize it is only doing its job

and break the habit.

I practice vibrations of clarity, and calmness.

Law of attraction, do you hear me? Let’s get  momentum going!

 

And in the stillness at night, before drifting off , I contemplate.

Did I love enough?

Did I laugh enough?

Did I make a difference?

I hope so but if not. . . . . . I can always practice again tomorrow.

 

Bubbling black erupts

into bouncing motion.

I thought I was almost through it but I am not.

Steam evaporates another

soul scar no one else can see.

The coffee grounds settle. It’s ready.

 

Pouring into loneliness  

will never fill this void, so I add cream.

Black liquid turns muddy brown.

Icy fingers of depression wrap around the cup.

My lips rest on the brim.

So many things I had to change when you left.

 

Why did this happen?

I am helpless and sometimes not fit for this world.

I miss you that much.

The  cup sits on frozen ground,

 such a cold place for your ashes.

I call out your name. Can you hear me?

 

Morning frost and boiling pot intertwine.

Your life and death is part of me

 guiding my muddy brown destiny.

Fire crackles. Coffee boils down into sludge

thick with grief, thick with love.

Love pure like cream forming cinnamon swirls.

 

Your memory beckons me to

expand my love for you onto others.

Creating beauty out of darkness, sunrise dries tears.

I lift my cup towards the heavens and

offer the last swig of camp coffee.

Here’s to you my love, here is to you.

 

 

 

Visible sprites of red lightning flash.

Invisible lavender smells become visible by

vibrating purple plants swaying in storm winds.

As thunder clashes, this warrior takes a break.

 

Setting down sword and shield for a moment,

the invisible becomes visible. I see the game

for what it is. There is nothing to war about.

It is time to stop and ask for openness.

 

Sticking to familiar hides invisible potentials.

Response is allowed to come.

Action becomes visible. Exchanging

sword for hoe, warrior becomes gardener.

 

Invisible, the planted seed changes within.

Sprouted, its growth affects the external.

Invisible potentials become  bursts of colors

cultivating dreams that change  landscape.

 

Impulsive sprites shift from ego to spirit.

Once visible, they fade with the storm.

 Detectable only in lightning charged air,

invisible waits the chance to be visible once again.

 

 

 

Morning beauty is untouched.

A fresh, journal page not yet marked,

begs for an answer.

What is the best I can do right now?

Uplifting thoughts feel good.

Focusing on those for one minute and then the next

gathers momentum towards contentment.

 

Day’s moments are spent in commotion,

mixed emotions command attention.

Life validates my subconscious beliefs

with incoming missiles of reality.

 

Later, two lists shimmer on the page,

What did I give attention to? Is it what I want?

Listing things that happened brings me clues

but I can not get positive.

 

Hunker down.  Power up.  Guide

my mind out of useless thought cycling.

Deep breathing helps.

It pulls discoveries up from murky depths.

How does this moody emotion serve me?

 

After many attempts,

 my hand gives answers by filling in blanks.

The reason this serves me is because……….

words surface until one or two ring true.

 

There is choice on what to believe and how to feel.

After a month or so habits begin to change.

I affirm better outcomes and accept them.

 

Images of sunset contrast dark clouds

with pink-gray arctic sky. 

Streaks of light dance until they settle into a glow.

Evidence that all is as is should be.

 

Candle flickers loudly in shadows against the wall.

The pen falls to the floor.

Journal pages stay open, ready for dreams.

Last thoughts are of gratitude because with the morning light