“……and we surrounded the enemy with HUSH!”


 

 

 

 

 

 

“……and we surrounded the enemy with HUSH!”

 

 

 

 

As Mistress Mouse, Littley Lamb, Old Crookeye, and Old Dog picked peas,

Flop-Eared Boy and Donkey flapped and flipped sighs of woe

From way out in front near raging cursin’ from enemies in th’ lees

All worrisome to healers in th’ rear feelin’ fear for Spottedy-toe.

 

 

Now Spottedy be stronger, yet quakin’ as he shadowed Croaker,

Who now belched: “Old Crowsy, ye needs take your eyes higher!

“Higher, from that Crowser Lady, higher to see which way we stroker

Away, away, away from mean ol’ beasties drivin’ pea-pickers in mire!”

 

 

“Be ye still, be ye in peace,” came a whisper from down low,so low.

“Be ye filling ye-selves up to blow a mighty HUSH,” came from the dust.

“Be ye holdin’ ye-selves encircled by the Light from that scattering blow

Of glinting rocks a tumblin’ from th’ mighty kick a’ Spottedy-crust.

 

 

“Oh, yes, sweet friends,”did now whisper Cuddles over the fields.

“Oh, yes, dear ones-with-The-One, fill up now to blow Eternal Hush

“O’er these fields and rocks and rills down to the sea of enemy yields.

“For we are healed by The Light and we are Freed by The Light.”

 

 

“Oh, meezie, oh myzie,”burped Old Croaker back up to Ugly Bird with Crow.

“We uns needs not see which way dose beasties do come up at us!”

“We uns only needs to see little more Light, little more Bright to show

How we filled with Love from The One to Blow a Major Hush on that beastie bus!”

“……and have you ever heard an old crow belly-laugh?”


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“……and have you ever heard an old crow belly-laugh?”

 

 

 

 

Old Crow spots a lush field of succulent peas,

Hiding under fronds stretching for miles under evergreens.

High mountain-valley meadow holding much to please

And sighing caws does Old Crow beak over these worthy beans.

 

 

Just now Old Crow spies there a gorgeously plummaged one,

A veritable Lady Crowser so daintily pecking at just one pea.

Pretty, pretty most specialest beauty of a lady, so madey

Like those peas to please all friends and mostly Old Crow in plea.

 

 

Just as Crow circles to swoop down to bow to this Lady,

Ugly Cird calls about far away sounds from the riverine seasides:

“Such ugly, ugly bawling sqawling voice we uns do hear, ol’ Matey”

“Can we uns gather pease and quick, quick, get away to friend’s cave, besides?”

“……and then the terrapin blinked.”


 

“……and then the terrapin blinked.”

Lookin’ up into the top of his shell, dear Terrapin did blink!

“Oh, meesies, mysies, where beez dat light comin’ from?”

Dear Terrapin did ask his heart while stoppin’ his mind from think.

“Oh, goodness graciousies, me feels more light like at a prom!”

 

 

Then did dusty voice from under Terrapin toes did croon,

“Ye gets this light from your own soul, ye shell-hous-ed son!

“Ye stored light from Cuddlies’ pats and Jitters’ toe-taps in boon!

“Ye has light to show you way to all friends’ help Spottedy as one!”

 

 

So did Terrapin look out to brink and crawled to each friend in turn:

“Come, ye Old Turtley; come, ye Flop-Eared Donkey and boy;

“Come, ye Old Shepherd and Cross-Eyed Dog; Come, let us learn

“How to forgive and help and rescue Dear Spottedy from being a crash-ed toy!”

 

 

For each time Terrapin blinked, Rainbowsy lights did glint from each wise eye,

Signalling the friends to move and embrace tottering Spottedy on that cliff,

With Turtley offering strong back and Crookeye lifting up goat so high

As to rest on Donkey’s back, held by arms of boy and Old Shepherd without miff.

 

 

“Oh, how ye get all friends to forgive and rescue, dear Terrapin so smart?”

Did Spottedy pant and weep while draped on Donkey so weary but true.

“Oh, I just heard dusty voice saying I must blink the light into each heart;

To point the way to release old thoughts and rejoice in love for our crew.”

 

“……and now we practice terrapin therapy to get out of this mess!” (Part One)


 

“……and now we practice terrapin therapy to get out of this mess!”

“Hey, You!  What you meansies, all stompsies my juicy buggsies?”

spit out Old Turtley, thirsting all along on many turns and twists of trail,

blaming Spottedy Goat for all this thirsting cause of planted truggsies

Dear Goatie must perform to keep Friend Riders on board, hearty and hail.

 

 

 

“Hey ye ol’ Spotted One, what for you blew so hard on me tender wings,”

whined Ugly Bird flapping just above Dear Goatie’s nose to cool her feathers,

seeking cooling from hot desert mountain swirls as she swings and sings,

yet caring not bout Spottedy’s labors to bear up friends in these weathers.

 

 

“Whist you flappsies that stinking ol’ tail mongst all our faces?”

cried Littley Lamb and Old Shepherd and Cross-Eyed Dog toddling so close

behind Dear Goatie for fear of fallin’ behind and fear of slidin’ in traces

of ol’ rock slides yet blamin’ Dear Goatie for his own goatie-ness of pose.

 

 

All this while a jewel-shelled terrapin watched and blinked around the bend.

All this while a dear little rainbow-patched terrapin did blink and think.

All this while the multi-toned terrapin began to pull into shell in a trend

Needed to look inward, to ponder under which stoney word Spottedy would sink.

 

 

 

Dear followers and friends, please ponder and wonder what action Spottedy will next take! 

                What would you do?

                What should Friends do?

Stay tuned for Part Two of the healing that comes with terrapin therapy!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“……but I’m not GOOD enough!”


 

 

 

 

“……but I’m not GOOD enough for that High Room!”

“I not good enough,clean enough for goin’

into that High Room of Light,” moaned one critter,

that Flop-Eared Donkey, brayin’ in sad groanin’

in the Wind of Disgust of mind in fear so bitter.

 

 

 

Flop-Eared Boy ran to cry on Donkey’s neck:

“You beez mah fweenz, youz carry mah load!”

“Waitsee,waitsee,” spouted Big Croakie on deck.

“Dat beastie kicked me down no bettr’n a toad!”

 

 

 

So Boy pulled one donkey ear to lead up to Room;

But Croakie hopped on other ear to smash back down:

“He’uns no go in High Room of Light wid ME!”did boom

Out Old Croakie in great frantic hoppin’ under mean frown.

 

 

 

“Then ye can just hop right on out with Snarlies and Growlies,”

pointed all friends in winding chorus blowing up to high shelf.

“Oh,me, oh my, oh bye-bye,” Croakie wept deep in his bowelies.

“Oh, I sees now I give not to Donkey what I’se wants for Self.”

 

 

 

“Oh, please, please, O thou dear cloud o’ witnesses so clean:

“I is beggin’ just one-toe-room in low,low corner of High Space.”

Then did Flop-Eared Donkey step right up smartly to keen:

“Oh, now ’tis I who begs dis Croakie to be forgivin’ me w’out trace.”

 

 

 

Then didst Littley Lamb whisper up to Old Crow:

“Let Rainbow Fly gleam on Donkey and Frog alike,

“Flap them both right quick, quick up and up in tow

“Right straight into High Room free from all strike.”

“……we’uns never have enough room!”


 

“……we’uns never have enough room!”

Squeezed together with pinchey toes

An’ scrapin’ bellies

An’ knockin’ noggins in blows

All down in the’ boggins shrillies.

Squished ‘n squashed an’ pressin’ blows

On long-ago nervsies.

 

 

Topsy-turvsies all-a-boggle

No whit of glee did find a thrill to toggle

Where friends were smashin, clashin’

All twistin’ an’ bustin’ w’elbow so thrashin’

Were friends seekin’ safety from snortin’ beasties

So hungry for the husks o’ their berries in feasties.

 

 

“Turn ye selves rightside up, ye goonies in den!”

Old Crow then did flap so scratched a croak

From one-toed perch on ledge just then,

“Does not ye see new ray of light in stroke,

“Pointing to door,  secret door, to Higher Room of kin?”

 

 

 

 

WE WOBBLIES AND WE SQUABBLIES


SQUABBLING OVER WOBBLES WE GO MERRILY ON!

“No, we’uns may unt go so fast.”

“Yes, we needs hurry and scurry, so Blast!”

“No, all Floppies and Moppies, looky-looky”

“Yes, stompy ones and rompy ones, spooky,spooky!

Dose shadows and darklings creep all round.”

So pushed and pulled and stumbled and crumbled

our friends in fray never ceased moans mumbled.

So tucking of heads and slapping of keds

our friends still made way to uphill beds.

Never failing dose shadows and darkling to astound.

“Why we needs grab one the other round bush and rock?”

“Hush, hush, all bushies and mushies do take stock!”

“What meansies thee scolding us like teensies?”

Why, some higheye must see bye ‘n bye, you crock!”

Always kicking dose shadows and darklings back to ground.

So leaning and keening and pushing and crushing

our friends in straining arrayed on higher mushing.

So heltering skeltering shadows behind

our friends eared and eyed and nosed to light in kind.

Slapping dose shadows and darklings back in a mound.

“Why, how we up so high, how we see whole light?”

“You ever hope in lope with jewely rope”

“Why we not all tumbley-mumbley down with blight”

“You ever faced up, ever traced frowards by scope.”

                                                                                                                                                                              Squabbling dose shadows and darklings into da ground.

MEETING THE FOUR HORSES


 

 FOUR HORSES AHEAD OF THE GAME

Berry refreshed, berry stained, berry smores

friends behind earflops and bushnoses and stamped feet

Bearing cleareyed shepherd crook above resting snores

forming a watchguard over Littly and Weasley and Henny’s cleat

Boasting a fullout falldown sleep even Croaky-Moaky scores

fulsome for rest in dreams of worms with wings yet to meet.

All stretchy-fetchy into minding mists our friends abide,

waving vapors of scents and goldens and starries so far

from all they have known before the Babe, before the tide

of peace and goodwill and crashing angel tunes at the bar

of their souls waiting to breath a more distant side

from any ribs they had yet to bet beside robe with no mar.

Now friendly wendly muchly clutchly all did sleep

Not hearing or smelling at first any horsing clomps

Now mere smugging wispy wanding horsing keep

Not quite in dreams, not quite in peeps, just stomps

Now thrumming inside heads bearing four colors’ creep

Not so foretold mere weaving of wish for romps.

But hold! behold! no scold! all rolled

As one to kneel then stand then mend the dawn

But for scratchings and stretchings now scold

Old Shepherd and BushyGirl to shush these spawn

As one then t’other leaned looking smells so bold

Old Croaker could not bigger to meet GreyHorse drawn.

“What ho! What heigh! So nigh!  So spry!

“Come you now out from rocks,out from sleep

“What show? What blow?What Need-To-Bye?

“Come into circle, Come into us, Come break with keep”

Thus  friends fulsome step to offer berry pie,

Thus friends bending to east GreyHorse did leap.

Now on down rocks, now on past stream so oiled

With new found mount to carry some load

Now on across sand,  past bent tree enfoiled

With roostery crows and blustery flies en road

Now Henny and Weasley trot by limbs uncoiled

With spring and bounce to jounce a new code.

Yes, a new code, a new mould of form each soul did take

On eastward, on valeward from that old garden

Where once a path walked by evening’s cool lake,

On boastward did friends now march in pardon

Where drying winds did push more east to make

On scratched paths for hooves sent from stardon.

Soon scents of herds and sounds of scolders

Did fall on crittery heads and folksing eary fears

Soon creaks of carts and offaling potmolders

Did fall on flopped ears and stalking rears

Soon dustings so thick and mustings from boulders

Did blind the Crook and the Croaker in tears.

“Oh, what now? what bow? what row we must make?

“Oh, come now, side now, bide now, hide now!

“Oh, skippeling, snippeling, trippeling forsake!

“Oh, come now, ride now, quick now, fly now:

“Oh, forsooth and forsake now we trail to make

“Oh, stretch thou souls now, catch thy hearts now!”

So did friends go out by a different way to meet the East in New Light.


SIXTH WEEK WEDNESDAY: CONFLICT & TENSION & BALANCE CONVERED ON HARMONY


The wind and the leaves and the

rake could not agree:

Is there to be one big pile?

many small piles? drifts?

Lines, compostedness, wheelbarrows?

some stuck in white hairs?

Some chewed by Little Dog?

some helping a chipmunk’s

Winter burrowing into the cold?

some batted high by Fluffy Cat?

If the rake wants one larg pile,

the leaves float away to breathe,

The wind insisting.

When the rake plans

Oh-so-neat rows of rusty piles,

Wind sings a new song,

Dancing and sweeping away rejoicing.

When the rake scores sunset crackling

Colors into lines, leaves slump

With sadness at this disguise

And the wind is their everfast friend.

When the rake lifts up

To the wheelbarrow a slaughtered

Mass of color,

The wind is filling the air with righteous

Indignation, well-toned chiming of the hour.

Then Chipmunk, Little Dog, and Fluffy Cat

all sit together on the leaf-encrusted rake,

Looking up spiritous in unison:

“See how well we befriend the leaves,the wind;

Let us now help you with the rake.

We will join in harmony, singing to the setting sun,

The new moom, the departed wind.”

All are now balanced with the required

Tension to maintin a posture

Of Harmony.

Conflict flown with the wind to

Another earth-side, another set of actors

On this stage of Being.

THESE VERSES TRULY CENTERED ME IN READINESS FOR TODAY!

SATURDAY: IN-LAWS AND WHITE HAIR


Some of you may think the two nouns in the title of today’s post are synonymous, while others may be convinced the first brings on the second!

But I am here to tell you, inlaws are one of the chief sources of my inspiration in these, my official white-haired days!

If I were sitting in the park with the NYC AGAINST WALLSTREET protesters, my mind would wander to past conflicts resolved more-than-satisfactorily with in-laws!

When I indulged in a short jog in the forest this a.m., my mind wandered to the various comments some in-laws about my outdoor activities.

As I played with my canine family members this a.m.–you guessed it–my mind wandered to comments from in-laws about my relationship with said four-legged loved ones.

So, now it should not be difficult for you to see how past encounters with in-laws (especially those resulting in my “letting go” of my kneed-jerk defense mechanism) helped me to deal so well with the stranger-encounter described in my “White Hair Walking” post earlier this week.   My white hair is an outward and visible sign of the number of years required to grow wisdom inside the ol’ head.  It reminds me of many successes and challenges, spurring me on to deal with even more “strange encounters” in such a way as to build even more wisdom.  This kind of wisdom brings understanding at a deep enough spiritual level to change a troublesome road into a victorious path to PEACE!

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