before I fell asleep
the moon began to shine into my room
through the cracks between the window and the shade

I opened the window shade
to see how full the moon must be to shine so brightly
and it's immensity drew me to it
and I felt afraid

because when I am happy
I become afraid
or is it what I heard:
beauty is terrifying

the moon drew me
out into the night
to walk in the brightly lit dark
where my shadow darkened even my neighborĂ­s lights

feeling the icy still air
hearing the water running off the mountainside from the seventh wettest year on record
smelling only the scent of cold
and seeing in a light of dawn still five hours before sunrise

revelling in the strength of the moon's light
I imagine the living the Chumash inhabitants must have enjoyed
on this hillside on full moon nights of centuries without electricity
seeing the mountain peaks across the valley tens of miles away

I return
because the cold has crept beneath my jammies
and because I'm thinking of the question:
who would you be?

who would I be?
if I changed
and wasn't afraid when I felt happy
or connected to the light of the full moon and the ancestors of this place
and my own body

who will I be when I trust the moonlight shadow
when I let in the mystery
and know that I'm part of it?
will I be life?

Abby & Carlos

even now my mouth wants to rise in a grin
as my heart swelled and glowed
like a rose bloom glowing in sunlight
swelling like petals unfolding
lit by the energy source of all life on earth
as I am lit by the source
when I open to connection

and the setting so delightful
listening to the journey of Amanda, on my behalf
symbolizing support and heroism for me
and petting carlos with my right hand
while petting abby with my left hand
surrounded by recipients of what I give
until the boy in his playfulness folds back his ears
to pounce on his young mother
the joy of the moment
ever enticing playfulness in youthful spiritedness

Lea's Teacher - Amanda

she is only as tall as me, I notice when we hug ,and she carries such height in her presence
even her name, so full of feminine sounds and containing the masculine as well

and her hands, also, contain the softness and strength of balanced masculine and feminine
very quick and natural, her smile flashes with understanding of human frailty

in her eyes I see the ages and the other realms
calling the spirits to help in healing, her singing transcends the distinction of gender

her heart beats with the rhythm of all hearts and she wears it openly
and her beauty is captured in her hair with its darkness and depth and coarseness

The New Garden

sitting out in the garden
I know in my new garden I won't hear the traffic on the boulevard
but, will I still have the feeling that the garden is holding me?
what will it be like to lie on the grass looking up through the leaves of an ash tree?
will the sky look the same, this moment before sunset
when it is almost white still with sunlight
beginning it's blueness as the photons are extinguished
or simply not renewed as they expire
until an hour later the blue becomes a blue without color?
will there be wind in the new garden?
here the wind is a chorus as each tree sings her own song
the eucalyptus, the ash, the plum, and the crape myrtle
each does her own dance - leaves, their size, shape and place on the branch,
and branches, some flexible some firm, vary and dance their own dance with the wind
and all the plants contribute to the music even the cucumber leaves rustling
the breezy wind is singing through the rhythm of the traffic noise which will be much less, almost absent, in the new garden
it feels like a fall wind, now that September has arrived