She and I

I am the poem goddess and

I dance on feathered visions,

fly above my little self

and send down birdsong wisdom.

 

“One day you’ll be a goddess

full of dancing, feathered visions,

you will be a poem song,

a strong and brilliant woman.”

 

When her hazel eyes get wide

I know that she has listened.

My songs live inside her heart,

she feels the goddess rhythm.

 

©Angela Bigler 2018

7825008376_5b9c9db52b

photo credit: amber10_79 Angel Baby via photopin (license)

Advertisements

Moon Mother

Ocean Dance

In my dreams, the women are drumming,

their waters are rising, silver and wild.

Making prayers of their bodies,

they dance as if swimming

under the Moon Mother spell.

 

© Angela Bigler 2016

photo credit: Micah Camara via photopin (license)

Two Leo Moons

25382688193_ff759ded79

Two Leo moons orbit the heart of my sky.

Warm gravity bonds – flows with love.

Love, the essence of our days together.

What was it they said about love?

It’s everything. It’s all you need. It’s vast and unexpected.

Two Leo Moons – mother and daughter, soft and bright.

We take big chances in the life – rearrange the heart,

accommodate each other’s limbs and prayers.

 

Mother Moon, I wanted you to stay with me,

but your path led to heaven’s spirit place.

Daughter moon, I wished for your safety,

but now I see your path must breathe.

Follow your paws to uncharted islands,

rainforest jungles, oceans and sand.

Journeys, wishes, wisdoms born of you.

 

Beyond the moments our hearts beat together,

our celestial roots stretch endlessly,

beam across your distant lands,

where lionesses roar and dream.

We reach up to the heavens,

through realms and mysteries.

Two Leo moons, one Libra heart

spin through the galaxy.

28187624172_2e0d9fecba

 

© Angela Bigler 2016

 

photo credit: Que Lua é Essa? via photopin (license)

photo credit: Costa_Rica-027 via photopin (license)

Strong Talk

15159947752_3365d448fc_n

 

In 1908, when Emily Carr painted the First Nation totem poles in British Columbia, she heard their strong talk roaring across the wild beaches. They were still speaking their truth even though they’d been wind beaten and faded, even though many were abandoned. This was forever strong talk. 

Emily Carr was alone in the sweltering heat with the relentless mosquitoes when she talked to the ghosts and inhaled the strong talk of the ancestors. She could have wished for comfort and gone home, instead she kept on painting and that old talk spoke again through her determined paintbrush.

Sometimes you want to tell the world your story. Or maybe tell one person, just one truth.

I was scared when I was little, there were voices in the dark and they were sneaking in the window, mean and ugly. They told me that my voice was insignificant, told me I must be quiet to survive and I believed them.

What if I became a totem and told my own story? What if I was thirty-feet tall and blue, yellow, red and green and carved with the strength of my voice? Could there be strong talk in me? Would someone like Emily hear it? I’d like to think she would paint me with riots of color, thick coats of bright paint and layers of voice.

I want to be an instrument like that and make my own strong talk, spitting my words like wind on a reed. My breath would travel upwards from my roots to my heart, over my chords and out of my mouth, gaining power as it flowed over the wood to your ears, then strong talk would roar out of me.

©Abigler2016

 

18734451014_726fb6e0ce_n

 

More on Emily Carr

 

photo credit: Ancient Totem pole of Gitanyow via photopin (license)
photo credit: Kenting Roar via photopin (license)

Great Mother Love

Her songs are earth deep mantras calling names of constellations into being.

Her light soaked in, released the magic pine and herbs.

All those folded flowers lifted up their sacred prayers – water, light, dirt, love.

Her gifts – who could forget them?

Did you see her gentle curves?

The way her spine supports her children?

It’s impossible to live without her heaven/earth transcendence.

Aren’t we all turning, turning with the planet that she raised?

7021908809_b614c77638

©Abigler 2015

photo credit: 172/365 I Want to See the World via photopin (license)

Belief

raven landing

I knew there was no god

When the mother rabbit came back later, looking,

After the crows swooped in and took her hidden babies.

Still, it comforts to believe in something, to connect.

There is heart, there is light,

There is nature, lovely and mean.

Maybe we aren’t preordained beings

or soap opera stars watched by gods.

Maybe we are just living,

Praying to our own creations,

However;

Surrender lightens,

Helps me breathe sparks of

Divinity, miracles, hope.

Keeps me going when the crows are closing in.

Hands with candle