Where Heaven and earth share the road... 720.618.7001
Original poetry and drawings by Joy Schultz
For more go to my blog... joywschultz@comast.net
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January 11, 2016. I'm playing with something I haven't done for a few years. I am keeping colored pencils, paper and a pen on the kitchen counter and noticing what I am thinking and feeling when I go to eat something--and putting it on paper. I've done this two times before. One was in 2008, when I first left my marriage and moved into a place of my own for the first time in twenty something years. It was also only a few years after my son died and so I had a lot of thoughts and feelings about both of those things. In 2013, I just kept a notebook on the counter while taking Grace Bell's Wonderful Food, Horrible Food class. When she presented recently at the Convention she mentioned this practice again and how powerful it can be to try to catch those thoughts before you eat, and if not then, after. I am loving it and invite you to it. Here's what came today. I just started by writing down the single words that came to me. It feels so much more connected to me than eating a cookie (and you can do that too.)
guilt prison chains trapped pattern rigid stuck in a groove it takes a bit of a jolt to oust out of a groove or does it? is it possible the mud sides of the groove simply melt like candle wax turning to liquid elevation, excavation what if you stood on the ceiling and saw the view from upside on the down? what if you saw the bottom of the car, the foundation of the house under the ground? what if all that was visible no longer was, and all that was previously out of sight was now in your face? what if you were sitting smack dab in the center of your neighbor's heart and you saw it all from there? what if pelican eyes were yours? the sky your native ground? what if the prison had no roof, the groove no sides, and your neighbor is yourself...? what if there is no other country? Welcome Home, Love, welcome home 
So many eyes to look through...
So many viewing points... 
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"Enough for everyone..."
Is there really an elephant in the room?is it true?
is there really an elephant in the room? poof! or is it just a tiny mad idea, not even an ant? nothing at all the horror show gone no, love, the mayhem, the riots, the AK 47's are not (dangerous) the turkey farm was merely a joke where ever red may fall, where ever blue may strew, where ever orange may land and yellow bounce... nothing to stew over can anyone ever be his tracks in the snow? confusion is not a crime confusion is an invitation to compassion and clarity every fear, an invitation to give, an explicit direction to look it straight in the eye the very thing I fear the most is my invitation to Heaven Stay in touch. She is but your own hand. She is but waiting for your kiss. The elephant in the room was just to get your attention...mom 
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"Integration"
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Limitless
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there was a picture of you on the wall
that was far too tiny, too tiny looking through the picture, translucent, transparent like the negative, the slide i see "she" couldn't move from the fixed position of mind it was plastic, constructed "she" could never be life picture must be dead worship no fixed position, costume it's impossible to hold a living thing to an image let it breathe, honey honey, let Her breathe again bees are humming, ahhhhhhhh.....the Scent limitless doll wonderous swooping She can fly!!!! anywhere! following, She, is steady with this one, "i hear you" "yes, I see you" "i know you" and "that" is not You... |
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Birthing...
To view more of my poetry please visit www.joyofmiracles.blogspot.com
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Empty body...so full
empty body... so full
Take off your body skin just for a moment.... let those stars go a wandering out into the sea of hearts unwrap the Divine lava the border that seems to take infinite spaciousness and divide it up into separate things making infinity finite take off the wooden slats, the tiles on the roof outgoing ex t e n s i o n in dwelling in visible wordless no thing no resistance at all how no thing can you imagine? no "where" to go? this un-ness without a body the tweedle starts to hum, the motor visitates, emerging out of the void thriving shining hup hupping bumpety gonging the shimmering in the moonlight quakes hearts and in the morning... no thing dear one oh yes, precious no thing empty baskets are so light to carry and so very very full it's free for everyone to give away and give away and give away and all ways no thing no thing no thing rings true 7/29/13 |
