God calls

In Her silent ways

Tugging at the soul like Intuition

Which only becomes nagging…

When we Refuse to Listen

She shows up gently at first –

A little itch at the neck

Or a whisper in the back of the head

Or a sense that something is Not Quite Right


God begs

From Her Presence on High

Or maybe from Deep Below

Where the gut speaks

In gurgles and bubbles and indigestion

Please, She says plainly now,

I am trying to get your Attention

But we have gotten so used to pushing Her aside

Placing Her in a box of the Archaic kind —

Urging in voices that are not ours but our Parents

Or our Parent’s parents:

“You must fit in This.”


We’ve been believing this and Restricting Her

Or hiding Her,

Sweeping Her under the rug



God screams

She badgers us and weighs heavy on our souls

Now we have enraged Her

She tried so hard in Her gentle kind of way

But we would have none of that, No.

We westerners so used to listening and valuing only One Side:

The goal-oriented, straight-line, get-shit-done-yesterday-damn-it!

Patriarchal approach

(When the round-a-bout, Matriarchal way is proven to lead to better learning)

Did you know this?

Doubtful, because She has been dismissed – missed —

By way of men’s unintentional ignorance

How could any God not be Whole?

Look to Nature and see your Soul!

I swear — You will find it includes Both.

The Feminine half of the Godhead, though

Has suffered

And suffered

For so long

That we humans begin to rot right along with Her

Suppressing the feelings that might help to lift Her up

To be renewed from Life’s overflowing cup

But We do not hear Her until she screams

And then we call her a Bitch or a Nag

Or some other Unpleasant Female Name

Or we ignore Her, still!


God calls

Why wait for Her to start screaming?

Why not just close your eyes, center in

And Listen?

Lilith Rising

She is livid mad

Crazy bad

Kick your ass kind of badass Wo-


But ain’t no man a fan

Of this kind of Black-Red

Sick-nisssss (I mean that in the Present Tense –

Sick as awesome not sick as bad)

Just ask the First Man —


How he couldn’t stand

The Original Kick-ass lass:

The one we know as


How he moaned and bitched like a little bitch:

“Ooo, waaa….God made a mistake —

‘Cause this woman won’t Subjugate”

Subservi-ate made Her irate

‘Less Than’ was nothing she would tolerate

So God banished Her to the Other Land

But She was the Wrong One to ban!

Shoulda took that Adam-Man off his

Ladder, man —

Made him mate with matter, man

But he shoved Lilith in the Shadow-Land

And by His command…

Another woman up God’s sleave!

Mix, carve, blow…

Why look!

It’s Eve.

Oh, so willing,

Oh, so sweet

So ready to just

Lie Beneath

And take what Adam did bequeath

She’d lay there silent,

Just receiving

The entire time just believing

She must be doing the Right Thing —

By never, ever


Adam praised God’s “Good Girl” work

Secretly feeling like the biggest jerk

For all the while he was fucking Eve –

It was Lilith he was seeking.


[And all the men wonder today

Why a woman won’t just speak up and say

All the things that she is feeling

But deep inside an Ancient Fear

That we’ll be Sent Away for speaking

There’s that Usher song, you know… the one that says:

“Want a lady in the street but a freak in the bed…”

But the Freak is the one who won’t Lie Beneath…

The one We All left for dead.

She wonders now, as she breaks out

And leaves her Shadow Land

Who is strong enough to Share my bed…

Is there Such a Man?]


I find my own Heart



Beating in warrior rhythms

Slow and steady

Waiting for me to return to it

And I have

The reunion

Is a true


I am solidified

In this liquefied ever-changing Whole

Humbled and Empowered

At the same time.

I no longer question.

Simply, I just


This Is God

I am in The Chrysalis

I sit in meditation

How do I begin to tell you what it feels like

To be in the womb of the Great Mother?

How do I begin to describe this warm, pulsating energy

I am dropping down into

As I am lifted up at the same time?

I have never been more sober

Nor felt more high.

I am in a soft Orange-Red place.

I feel myself release into Trusting.

And then I

E X P A N D, oscillating out into Everything

And there is no more “I.”

How do I tell you I have actually

Experienced being One with the whole


That “being one” is not an idea

But a sacred Act of Allowing

Allowing yourself to Feel so completely

That you lose yourself.

Only…it is not scary at all.

Not like I imagined.

My sweet ego thought about the end of my life and pleaded,

“But, there’s no one like me! I don’t want to die! I like who I am.”

Now I Know

Beyond a shadow of a doubt

Death is nothing to fear.


The Shovel Man

He is The Shovel Man.

The one who goes out on icy evenings

Lifting up the heavy, brown dirt with his metal instrument,

Loading it onto Whatever Might Be Growing There.

Killing it swiftly.

Wiping it out.

“You do not deserve to live. You do not deserve to live. You do not…”

He heaves His Instrument up and down again

Masturbating mechanically.


No humanity left; which is sad –

Because he had some once.

Motivated now by Survival Instinct gone horribly awry.

“I must go on. Only I. Only I. Only I.”

And this is how The Shovel Man spends his days:

He wakes.

He looks.

No. He watches.

Any seedling that pops up;

Any bud that dares rear it’s tiny head;

Any expression of anything at all –

He snuffs out.

He is part God, part Man and all Fear.

And he no longer notices that with each pile of dirt

Upon each baby feeling

He murders, also,





Meeting the God Within

Let me in, let me in.

She said,

You only thought I was dead.

But I have been here

burning deep deep deep in your soul.

I have been the Thing that has held you close.

No I never let you go.

When you dove down to the depths of your

Saddened, lost soul;

When you used and you used and you used

And you used;

When you used and you used and it went on like this…

I brought you – Ragged – back from the abyss.

And still you were Wild, you clawed and you cried

Screeching your threats, still – I stayed by your side.

You did everything you could to push me away –

Humankind’s hero – Sabotage of Self,

Oh yes how I know her, I know her so well!

She, forcing me to see the Ugly in you

Over everything else –

Making me see the pain of abuse.

Begging me to Condemn you

Like you condemned yourself.


Miss Sabotage has no idea who I am:

The Other Side of your soul –

The side you can’t bear to see.

(We all know how it’s easier to believe

All the Ugly Things.)

But I Live.

I glow, I reach, I rise –

Throw light on your pain, so you’ll learn to thrive.

I let you hate me and shriek as I stay by your side

You writhe til you Break and surrender your pride.

We hold on together til you’re down on your knees

Complete abdication, heart pouring out pleas:

A new cry from your lips:“Let me worship you, please.”

But I simply smile and help you to stand.

“Look down,” I say.

You hold your own hand.

What Cannot Be Understood

Who are we to take the seat of Judge

When the Universe itself does not?

Who are we to cut down our own highest ideals

By ripping apart the beliefs and values of our fellows?

The Circle of Life does not start at birth and end at death.

For a circle, if you will recall, has no points at all.

Our limited human view makes us pick a moment on the wheel:

We call it Birth;

We call it Beginning.

We break down the unimaginable, the unknowable,

The Mysterious –

Into small, digestible, human fragments of False Wisdom

That claim we can know something which we –

Quite simply,


Consciousness gives us only so much.

Science, Psychology –

Gifts that offer brief flashes of Knowing.

And for these we are grateful.

But we must not mistake gratitude as some Fixed Truth.

All That Is,

Outside of those knowable points –

Is The Unconscious.

It is The Great Awe that is





And so, we may seek to Know

But may we remember, on our journey,

To lay down our judgements of ourselves.

This first.

And in ending that internal war,

We will find peace with our neighbor –

And Freedom instead of Fear

In the beautiful, dark Arms of

What Cannot Be