it's always dark when she awakes

it's always dark when she awakes
november mornings paint sky soot black-
with a few engorged stars,
as bright as crystal stud earrings

sky goddess dances in the dark
she knows- even though her outline is indecipherable---
she will be seen, she will be heard, she will be savored
as soft touches of light reach around her-

sun begins to brighten all things
she will dance and sing like there's no tomorrow..
the convergence of darkness and light,
elevating all who witness the healing

a blending of accepting hurts, with spurts of grateful
a swirling kaliedescope revealing what she needs
to see--no longer in her hands to decide--
thoughts, like hot potatoes leave as soon

as she was warmed, warned, and almost burned
angels protect, as tribal beat becomes her--
now these daring drums, awakening rainsticks..
with a building chorus, belting

"i'm on my own, but won't be for long"...
paper doll smiles cut butterflies
floating from wide open mouths
in a brightening sky at dawn

poem and photo by kate lamberg (c) '13

chase a dream?

chase a dream?
i think not;
i just sit and let
the sun shine,

the stars & moon glow
the river gently flow
i just let
the earth support

both sides
of the river dance-
just being amazed
how these trees

are never the same-
while focusing
on my breathing:
everything slows down

like dirt, which falls
in a glass of water
settles down--
for clarity eyes open

within baby wonder--
just a matter of finding
the moments to be
without willfulness-

and taking
the time
to emerge
grace fully

words and photo by kate lamberg..(c) '13

took a walk in "the sanctuary"

Took a walk in the "sanctuary", a lovely nature preserve near me. After going into the bamboo grove for quiet meditation, i stepped out to view some of the stunning colored leaves--still holding on to the trees. I was headed north to the inlet- to sit on a favorite rock and view the egrets and swans. Something made me turn around, and walk a few steps to the south.

Beyond the dogwood, red maple, norwegian pine, japanese maple, and a baby birch, i saw her. She- dancing deer was grazing, her head stretched through the pine wood slatted fence. I stood and stared for a few minutes. She lifted her head, and our eyes locked. For what seemed an eternity, but was probably only another few minutes--we merged, in peaceful prayer and healing meditation.

For many years, DEER has been one of the strongest animal totems for me. She represents grace, kindness, flexibility, the arts, nurturing, generosity and acceptance. I liken her to the Celtic St. Brigid in persona.
My seeing she-deer on saturday..an "8" day was particularly meaningful. Eights represent eternity: eternal love, truth, peace and longevity..

A blessing to connect and to know...I need not see her physically anymore to resonate/and become the essence/magic she possesses. A reminder to go "within" more often. To "be there" on a deeper level in my healing practice..To dive into my creativity--as i step away from electronic devices...
Embracing all that is natural, all that is healing, harmonious and centering for myself and with those I am in contact with. Blessed Be!

Wishing all my friends a healing and harmonious Sunday....
love light peace joy...

near the 'deer sighting'..by katyajo..(c) '13

a dream never really shatters

a dream never really shatters
it just melts within
our forgiving earth
creating flowers
meant to be seen
as we all walk
with our soul light beam

sometimes a river song knows better
our reasons for being
here--to rise up--to love
to rock, to roll........our selves
to glow-- even more so
no matter what
storms are placed in our path

light filled joy replaces
darkness in our awakening--
as precious peaceful petals
replace illusions of wrath
angels witness, and remove
the barriers to
our singing blessed craft

kate lamberg..(c) '13

internet lotus..'13

warmth in november haiku

this warm air can't rob me
there's still a sky in november
blue as cornflowers

words and photo by kate lamberg..(c) '13

how light bends

"art is a lie that makes us realize the truth." ~ Pablo Picasso

how light bends around the pond
not pompous or timid
not needing to convince
just the honest streaming

simply beaming a truth
only realized by those
who settle in- who trust

earth's grounding vision..
sky's palatial chameleon..
fire's drumbeat humming
water soothes- this river running

words and photo by kate lamberg~all rights reserved~.(c) '13

photo by kate lamberg..(c) '13

breaking bread on both sides

Dedicated to the UN~and her Birthday today!

breaking bread with friends-nothing comes closer to pure delight..then i think of those who must stumble upon scraps-as the mercury does drop in the darkened night

even crusts of bread can break a tooth...we look away as our hearts break in sorrow- we never know what to say to help mend the brokenness of homelessness "don't give money, as they might use it for booze or drugs" my parents used to say--give them food- something nourishing like a turkey sandwich and some fruit--fine, i'd say,  but what about tomorrow?..

what about tomorrow.. we've been raised on annie's "tomorrow", where wishes come true, if sung on key- where no tummy goes hungry..  i have struggled with this my whole life...in a country where we could feed everyone like kings and queens- and still the suffering.... 

internet photo

we are born innocent,  looking up to something, tor someone to depend upon--  we learn the fine art of independence, singing.. then, as we grow wiser, we realize it's in the interdependence, the communal pool of love...where we swim in our greatest magnificence.                                                                                                                                                   

~Kate Lamberg..All rights reserved. (c) '13

as we heal ourselves, we heal the world

sometimes when the quiet sets in, usually close to sunset, or prior to sunrise, i find myself truly filled with such gratefulness i cannot contain my rising spirit, my heart seemingly beating more quickly, more loudly

i simply sit against the nearest tree,
and let the excess energies swirl down my body,
through the bottom of my feet-
to merge and do an ancient dance with our mother earth

palms and finger tips tingle in recognition of all the gifts of nature
as healing happens with focused intention- and the simple allowing
healing light travels to all the places
in the world that are showing up in need

and the world echoes
the smoothing settling in of energies
the softest fragrance of roses,
and sounds of chopin waltzes

words and photo by kate lamberg...all rights reserved..(c) '13

the keys to my secret life

the keys to my secret life
reveal music no one but my cats
and passing gulls can hear

as i play my songs, both soft &
clear--releasing the hand of fear;
we are the ivories we play upon

and each note serves to nourish
our already fertile life...
as songs are birthed in the light

words and photo by katyajo. (c) '13

eerie breaks into samba

haiku and photo by kate lamberg..(c) '13

eerie sunday skies
break into samba sunshine
colors dance, "be mine"

rose buds still cling

rose buds still cling to the branches
as individual petals do somersaults
across the still green lawn

along with the raging wind
petals join the rustling leaves
as autumn overlaps summer

resting together neath changing trees
we become the very thing
to which we in spirit do cleave

words and photo by kate lamberg.. all rights reserved..(c) '13

to be intimate with all things

"enlightenment is being intimate with all things" dogen

how you got in my pocket is beyond my lucky stars... how you continue to know me, when you never really listened is outside of the realm of my truest comprehension... you see i was groomed for being a lover of words- on an island of pitch pine, apples, grapes, cedars,  and sand as white as november's first coarse snow..

dancing as hot as my first fireball red kiss on a windy tree filled hill... before anyone would see me..before i knew anything about pain following pleasure..about the cue stick  vying for the even numbered balls..the luck of the draw, all jaunty and sporty--showing up on the wrong day, for the right date..in the wrong town, with the right smile..

without any tactfulness--all the right moves  before sunset--the reminding oneself that it was real by rubbing one's lips back and forth up and down to simulate all the things one young man could confiscate from one trusting young woman,  on a single afternoon, on a windy hill--between three pm and the dinner gong  

Kate Lamberg~all rights reserved (c) '13

two egrets- photo by kate lamberg..(c) '13

'tadasan', the mountain

we awaken the divine
by simply sitting still
like mountain, allowing
rivers to flow around us
winds to blow through us
rains to fall upon us
fires to be built around us-
imploring surya- sun
to illuminate our essence
awakening, without doubt or fear
what is here, free of illusion
then our being can truly shine
unimpeded by the mind's finite domain
our heartsoul sings the meeting
of blessed earth and infinite sky divine

words and photo by katyajo..(c) '13

in the present moment i love you

how could i be angry with you?
anger requires expectations that you be different than who you are...
anger necessitates living in the past-which is just an amorphous dream

how could i be hopeful?
hope requires expectations that things be different than what they are..
hope necessitates living in the future--which is just an amorphous dream

in the present moment...all i can do
is listen to my heart stumbling
speaking, "i love you"

~words and photo by kate lamberg..(c) '13

slow dancing at dawn

dedicated to the truth and beauty of durga~as the durga puja festivities continue...*~*~*~*~*!

stepping out into the rain drenched air...she noticed immediately how the rain had stopped, yet remained present in her sphere of gradually opening...gyrations of hips, as durga celebrates all that is both dark and light blending..carrying integrity in plumage rising--at the first touch of morning..gathering courage to live one's life--and not another's...as a blueberry can never be a reed..that which heals can not again bleed..neither stumbling, nor ascending--the flat earth felt feisty underneath her bronze sandals--stepping out amidst the dream tinged dawn- no poem to uphold the masses--simply smiles emerging--signaling the dry kindling/kingdom within... bursting into flame--simply carrying the name of the one whose tea light eyes sympathize  the common person and angel countenance--meeting as one brocade cape to wear through out the century--without harming anyone..for we have come to be light beams for each other--escorting each other home...

his eyes, like an amber comb
dancing through her  honeyed hair-
-illuminating the sky
for as far as one could see...

in the meaning behind synchronicity-
how all these lifetimes,
wearing all these various hats..
to arrive at this one...
meeting truth--half-way...fancy that!  

~kate lamberg..(c) '13

internet photo..

give me a pen

setauket harbour~by katyajo..(c) '13

give me a pen that lasts a day
and you won't be seeing me
for awhile

you see, i have
words that have not been
revealed to you or even to me

but the task at hand- is to place
that pen in my right hand--
and be left

to roam in my expanded home
without walls for another handful
of days on end-

where the trees hide from knowing--
there is no secret
under heaven or beneath the river

there is no beast
or monster lurking
ready to pounce like panther

i am not sharing with you to prove
anything; just wanted you to know
it is eternally safe to walk over

the stepping stones are dry
no sea weed has danced so hard
among these humble watery environs

to trip anyone from moving forward
swimming in the rocky bottomed sound
where minnows tickle- never ridicule

kate lamberg..(c) '13

walking at dawn

walking, just a few long breaths
before sunrise--dampness felt
as cloying needy fingers
dark dampened branches

holding the morning dew-
as child clutches for more
teddy bear time, more cocoa
all before me--molding my steps

as light begins to creep- touching
the fringes of tattered jeans
hardly making a dent into
the core of my heart

the fine sweep of sunlight
seemingly whisking away
the dark dampness of lonely
separateness--my steps become

slower still...recognizing why
we do this every day--if not
to celebrate.. all of us as one
then what's the purpose

we are all too careful
with our words
we need sometimes
to let them fly unrehearsed

let our soul dance develop
into a great massive ballet
for we all have come to dance
on the path of truth--the lies

keep it all underground-
feet stuck on root vegetables:
those rutabagas and beets
hanging out for centuries

time to wiggle swim up the roots
and watch the shining sparkle
of a new day take hold
squinting in the cognizance

no longer i and you,
but simply us-
in both tender struggle,
and illumined joy

~ words and photo by kate lamberg..(c) '13

It was always the sound of maple leaves (a short short kids story)

kate lamberg~circa early 60's

It was always the sound of maple leaves singing in the southwest corner of her yard that made Usha smile with wonder. As a small child, she'd look out her western window at the changing light in spring at dusk. She'd wonder what her friends were doing at the moment. Deeper still, she'd feel the soft stirrings of tree angels beckoning.

Then, without a moment to spare, she would put on her sneakers and a cardigan sweater, not caring if the colors matched, and slip out the heavy oak door painted black, and the two paned screen door. She would step down upon the flagstone porch, be gently carried into the front yard. As if her tree angels had choreographed this small dance of freedom.

First, she'd gaze at the soft flowering of the pink dogwood. Then proceed to the enormous maple tree, sprouting forth its first soft baby green blossoms, that would transform into leaves. Usha knew that the leaves were part of a process called photosynthesis and could do their magical transformation while she was asleep. She would often say to her friends. "Can you imagine that...I go to sleep one night in late April, and the leaves just burst open as I sleep!! I wish I could stay up all night and watch as they come to life."

In summer the leaves became huge- larger than Usha's hands. Climbing the tree at dusk was her time to be alone, yet not be alone. As she hugged the center trunk, her tree angels came around to sing little songs to cheer her.
She knew a friend had wanted her to join her for roller skating and milk shakes at the local roller rink, but Usha was not interested. The silence of early evening was all that she wanted. The noise of metal on wooden floors and gales of laughter from little girls was the very thing she needed to turn her back from.

By late fall, the maple leaves turned to lovely shades of russet, burgundy, red, orange, and yellow. The colors of Usha's bedroom. She picked out the carpet shade- a soft pumpkin color to match her mood. She loved this time of the year the best. Not too cold or too hot. The flowers and leaves were still holding onto the trees, and she had a strong feeling of her tree angels drawing near.

By winter, the bare tree stood naked in the yard. Its leaves gone soon after thankgiving. Usha would have to love her maple tree for another four months without any leaves. Being too cold to climb the tree in January, she'd gaze at it's new bony figure from the warmth of her golden bedroom. Usa learned to appreciate the dark lines of the maple tree. How it appeared to be, at times, about to stretch and dance a ballet...created just for her.

Usha knew she would have to wait until the end of April to see her beloved maple tree burst once again into the green song of spring. She got busy with her piano practicing, ballet lessons, and baked her oatmeal cookies- crunchy on the outside, and chewy inside.

Oh-she never missed an evening of gazing with great love at her maple tree..Whatever the season. There was no reason, except maybe this:
The comfort of its being there without demanding anything at all from her.
Usha sighed a big sigh on April fools day. "Less than two weeks till my birthday, and then only another two weeks until my beloved tree sprouts her kelly green leaves. She'll take me deep into her branches, and I shall never feel alone. Never again."

Finis

the platitudes of love wear thin..waiting for a clear sweet bell

 

the platitudes of love wear thin
when words are squeezed through shruti box
in drones of ahh uuuu umm

whilst the waiting for a clear sweet bell
from goats descending the rocky hill
would fill me with a greater thrill

when tom toms echo unlaced, &
bees in their mad dash
to suckle all the honey

get drunk, so stop over
at sleepy hollow ranch
arranging plants & leaves:

sorrel, sassafrass ,sumac-
for the ingestion of healing herbs
enhances conception of all those

wicked pretty birds--who, blinded
by the coarse light of day--relax
and envision night flight journeys

amelia would be so proud
to see your aerodynamics
from a place of hydraulic lifting off

a levity so stunning--those who pass
would stop and witness--the silvering
clarion bell of your magnificence..

~by katyajo..(c) all rights reserved..'13

hearts like seas

"The heart of man is very much like the sea. It has storms, it has the tides, and in its depths, it has is pearls too. " Vincent Van Gogh

don't try to work on sailing closer-
the craft is driven by the same power
that causes this poem to be written, &
by the same power that pushes your electric mower

creating ease in decapitating
the tops of week old grass growth;
even a blunt razor with good intentions
can create a smooth baby face demeanor

and not by talking about high celestial unreachable
mountain passes in the heights of mt. cardigan--our feet
get wet without a choice--when walking across
the base of buttermilk falls at dusk

we do not wash away guilt--as that is just
a concept we too can bare, burn, and release-
as most mountain streams flow downwards....
the crystal bubbles speak of a time when

all the world moved more slowly..and still got everything done-
the homemade bread, and the churned butter--the hand wash,
and buttons carved from acorns at september's end....
so don't say you are being pulled in a million directions

it is simply what you wish to share,
to hault in your tracks the responsibility
needed to create a single song, to love with one
heart- however pained by misdirected rain...

and making love must be abstained from, until.
the key fits the smooth longitudinal lock--(in never never land)
the dream woken up from- kindling the kettle..&
scaring the day lights into darkness-

shivers the pumpkins, carved by the same hands
that asked for nothing
but only gave of herself,  for someone who
like pendulum..promises sweetly-carries gavel, courts danger-

by being in too many pies..of his own choosing--
no need to play favorites(be it blackberry or rhubarb)
just step right up and embrace..
this fine fragrant september morning

Kate Lamberg
September 16, 2013