Thank you, Claire. My DH and I met contra-dancing where there is a lot of twirling. I danced with my babies in my arms and we danced as they got older. We all liked "swirl" around and around.
This is brilliant Nancy. I like the rhythm and cadence of your rhymes, and the free flow nature of their interplay with each other. Your poety is truly wonderful.
I love this Calire. Your lovely imagery had me right there in that garden, feeling and sensing itsa beauty and the quiet. And you nailed the landing, which took me by surprise in hte best of ways. And what parent, grandparent, teacher, coach, trip leader and the like hasn't heard a young one say "hey," I'm here!"
What a precious poem this is, Margaret. Your poem takes me on a journey through your beautiful images, beside you in this sensory space, this imaginal trail in and out of realms. Thank you for sharing this!
Thank you, Larry. I was holding in my heart the special place where Kaitlin and I will both be launching books this October on the Isle of Iona. A thin place for sure.
Katie, this is an amazing poem. It stopped me and invited me to sit with this present moment, to listen to the rain and be grateful for so many things. Thank you for bringing that in with your beautiful, vivid poem.
Korie, this is so nice. I love how you create an opening for us to join you in your words, and to open ourselves to mystery. You have such special gifts!
I love this A. We live in Seacoast, NH, and the Marginal Way is a favorite place to walk, along with the splendid shorelinbe in this stretch of ocean in Maine. The minute I saw "Marginal Way," I smiled, out of recognition but also because it made me happy you had been there.
There lies a fairy circle in the woods,
the children dance within every day.
They’re sure they’ll see one at any moment,
no matter what we say.
To sing and dance with fairies is a sure thing,
e’er seen or not.
I want my time with them
but age holds me back from seeking.
As evening approaches and
the lightening bugs glow.
We go back into the forest
where the Imaginal space doth dwell.
We are now caught up in the swirl
of a rapidly unfolding dance.
Where we drift and dance in the song
of life and death in this magical stance.
Like the sacred whirling of the dervish! Thank you for taking me into this space!
Thank you, Margaret!
Love the idea of being caught up in the swirl of a rapidly unfolding dance 🤍
Thank you, Claire. My DH and I met contra-dancing where there is a lot of twirling. I danced with my babies in my arms and we danced as they got older. We all liked "swirl" around and around.
This is brilliant Nancy. I like the rhythm and cadence of your rhymes, and the free flow nature of their interplay with each other. Your poety is truly wonderful.
The Imaginal
The promise and potential
Of what could be...
Slowly I creak the door open
And step into
The walled garden
The high walls surround me
The dappled sunlight through the trees
Bluebells and wildflowers carpet the ground
I make my way through the overgrown path
And wind my way through
This magical place
Until I come to a clearing
My favourite bench
Beneath the canopy
Of a sturdy old tree
By the overgrown pond
I sit and watch
The birds flit and butterflies flutter
I hear the bees humming
And the birds singing
The trees rustle in the gentle breeze
As I sit in this moment
In this magical place of possibility and wonder.
Someone calls "mum"
And I'm brought back to the kitchen
Where I stand making breakfast, packing packed lunches... for now.
Thank you for taking us to this magical place for these moments! Joining you!
Back to the kitchen....🙂
Claire, may I sit down next to you? This looks like a lovely place to rest a moment.
Of course. Thank you Nancy
There's a line of us ready to be with you two as well!
I love the "for now"- a hopeful invitation for us moms!
I love this Calire. Your lovely imagery had me right there in that garden, feeling and sensing itsa beauty and the quiet. And you nailed the landing, which took me by surprise in hte best of ways. And what parent, grandparent, teacher, coach, trip leader and the like hasn't heard a young one say "hey," I'm here!"
You said you’d meet me there
When you had gone
That you’d be everywhere
In the streams tripping over rocks
In the mindless chatter of the birds
In the blossoming of the almond tree
In the quiet found in chaos.
_
A veil as thin as gossamer
They painted those words
on the white-washed wall
The passage into time beyond
Where singing monks
And dancing pilgrims
Share an oatcake and a cup of tea
__
But that veil wasn’t made of gossamer
As thin as a cigarette paper, you said
You kept it real
Not a faerie space
But a reality
Of liminality
The imaginal
Of shades and souls
Not imaginary
Of visions told
But here
Where you are
Where you
Meet me in every breath
Enfold me in the rising sun
Speak to me in the rushing wind
Play with me in the dancing waves
Rest with me on the pebbled beach
Not separate
But one
Beautiful.
truly exquisite 🥹💫
What a precious poem this is, Margaret. Your poem takes me on a journey through your beautiful images, beside you in this sensory space, this imaginal trail in and out of realms. Thank you for sharing this!
Thank you, Larry. I was holding in my heart the special place where Kaitlin and I will both be launching books this October on the Isle of Iona. A thin place for sure.
That is amazing and wonderful!
I got caught up
in the pain of being
just out of reach.
I can see it so
clearly — where
I want to be —
that I forgot
to look
at the mountains
this morning,
at the field rolling down
to the flowering apple tree,
at my own body breathing and
held on this hillside.
What past yearning
imagined me into
this moment
Where I am alive
to my desires
What future blooming
is reaching back to me now
reminding me to take
it all in, imagining
me planting the seeds
that will become a
generation of beauty
Katie, this is an amazing poem. It stopped me and invited me to sit with this present moment, to listen to the rain and be grateful for so many things. Thank you for bringing that in with your beautiful, vivid poem.
where I am alive to my desires 🥹 a generation of beauty.
The Imaginal
Imagine
Meeting
At the margins
Gaining those
Inner
Notions
Awakening
Longing to grow
I like this, Jane. For me, it reads like a poem/prayer for the world.
it is where I go to drink,
to lower the bucket
into a well of dreams,
on the surface of which gleams
the moving reflection
of everything that made me,
and everything I long to be.
Beautiful - what is suspended on that surface!
Love this Kate 🤍
Wow, Kate--this is brilliant! "A well of dreans" struck me right in the heart, the act of lowering the bucket and seeing past, present and future.
thank you dear Larry 🙏♥️
Related to what we see,
Whether through eyes
Or mind’s eye,
Perhaps with the vision
Of the heart,
These divine images
Are processed
In the soul, where
Contrast and brightness,
Saturation and exposure
Reveal a kaleidoscope
Of color and form
Defining Life
In the imaginal realm,
A spectrum of such beauty
That one can only stare
In the silence, unmoving,
Brought to tears by
The sheer wonder
And mystery of the infinite.
Korie, this is so nice. I love how you create an opening for us to join you in your words, and to open ourselves to mystery. You have such special gifts!
The bridge
Marks
the spot
To the clouds
The imaginal
The immense
sky
From this
perfect
Bench
At sunset
With rain clouds
In all shades
Hinting at
a golden other
World
just beyond
While inviting
Racing dragons
Leaping beasts
A giant hand
A whole world on whisps
Of clouds
A world
Just out of reach
Then back
over the bridge
To bed.
There is a place called Marginal Way
in my favourite place in Maine. It's a pathway
that traces the line between earth and sea,
with plenty of gorgeous flowers and trees,
and benches to sit beneath the salty sky. This
is what I see when I imagine the Imaginal,
those liminal, thin places where
everything meets.
I love this A. We live in Seacoast, NH, and the Marginal Way is a favorite place to walk, along with the splendid shorelinbe in this stretch of ocean in Maine. The minute I saw "Marginal Way," I smiled, out of recognition but also because it made me happy you had been there.
I live 5 miles from marginal way and go there often…
Lucky! I can't wait to go back.
I scarescream and grab
at the knife but i can't push
thru the waterfall.
"Its really OK" she whispers.
Slowly reaching up
to where her ear used to be,
she offers me pie.
Wow, Chuck, this one got me!
Day #17 The Imaginal
Color paints the Earth
and peppers the cosmic flow,
in this gleaming feast.
This is a lovely haiku, Christian. So artful and skillfuil and full of power. Thank you!
Thank you, Larry! Your kind words mean a lot to me.
Walking mind prayer
Every day requesting
Imminence vision
💔⚡️ oof. like a dagger to the heart, in the best way.
This is sweet and hopeful, Lisa.
In the space between
undoing is becoming
the veil lifts, we see.
This is really nice, Kate. A beautiful poem in three lines!
This is for my brother, Bill.
The Last Dance
^
The memory of us dancing in a circle,
late night fire popping;
Bright starry night
In the southern tip of
the great valley, “Daughter of the Stars.”
Framed by Blue Ridge and Allegheny mountains,
we held our drumbeats and sang so tenderly,
the gentle rhythms of the land
holding generations of dancers in its soul.
^
That night was one of the last times
you had the strength to rally beyond your illness.
And the prayers we sent for healing and cure
working in ways we could not see.
^
You are in the imaginal space now
beyond living and dying,
beyond pain and sorrow,
a thin place where all are embraced
in splendid, golden love.
Your dreams and poems coming together as one.
^
I imagine you still dancing,
conjuring poems from your spirit,
drumming a beat that lives forever.
The drumbeat that plays out
“I’m okay little brother, all is well.”
Stories told of who we are
What we can be
Limits placed on us
From limits inside of others.
There are bodies that are born for transformation
Possibility
Their very existence reminds us
Of what is lying
Dormant inside us
Will we accept the invitation
To the imaginal space