• About

Salt, Smoke, and Stone

~ a wild and sacred journey

Salt, Smoke, and Stone

Category Archives: prayer

November 3

03 Sunday Nov 2019

Posted by feralpoet in change, learning, mystery, offering, pain, poems, poetry, prayer, receiving

≈ Comments Off on November 3

Is it true that time changes?

Not here, but there, not past that imaginary line

but an inch before it.

Waking today brought an altered number

on a clock

yet Sun didn’t hiccup or falter.

Who are we to roll such dice?

Upon opening my eyes today

I’m living out a past pain through new labor.

Which is true–

the old pain, the fresh effort?

November 3 offers lost agonies returned,

a dawning, growing prayer

and broadening recognition of space

expanding into the Grandmotherly arms

of a beckoning,

wrinkled

and rollicking humor.

Woman, shave your head

08 Friday Mar 2019

Posted by feralpoet in beauty, Body, break out, home, honoring, learning, Love, movement, pain, poems, poetry, prayer, strength

≈ Comments Off on Woman, shave your head

Got long hair?

Got any hair?

Woman, shave your head.

And collect the assumptions hoisted upon you,

the ones you weren’t quite certain,

but now you know,

have been dragging you down.

Belly scraping the road.

Woman, got long hair?

Shave your head, and learn how confused

perceptions and expectations of you

are.

Where you may have been pretty, attractive,

desired,

suddenly the sight of that is gone

and people, most people, don’t have a clue

how to respond, how to comprehend–

But you were pretty.

You were attractive.

You were desirable.

Watch them turn their eyes away, unable

to look at you.

Hear them,

hating what they see and can’t understand,

say, “You look so…different.”

The least offensive, yet unasked for, comment

they can make.

Woman, got long hair?

Shave your head,

and discover what assumptions shove you low, in place,

a shallow ditch where you have been put.

Some react in adoration,

others with titillation, however briefly,

or with shock envy disbelief disgust.

Woman,

if ever you didn’t fully get it,

not in the tautness of your sinews,

how the appearance of a woman is believed

to belong

to the public,

that it is open invitation to

critique judgement opinion desire and rejection,

stick a personal act of transformation,

like dynamite,

within social view.

Woman,

if you want to know not

what others want you to be

but the stuff you’re made of,

Go,

Shave your head.

Day opens

10 Wednesday Oct 2018

Posted by feralpoet in abundance, Infinite, Music, nature, poems, poetry, prayer, weaving, welcoming

≈ Comments Off on Day opens

She lays in bed, sheet lightly covering.

Out the window clouds of rain draw near,

without hurry or menace.

Slow jazz fills the room, no one else close

to breathe the same thick, gentle October morning

in her nest above the street.

Pumpkin pie awaiting baking,

lamb thawing on white tiled counter,

and the low-lit day opens towards everything

she loves.

In the cross-hatch seat

28 Tuesday Aug 2018

Posted by feralpoet in abundance, becoming, community, gratitude, honoring, joy, light, loving, nature, poems, poetry, prayer, weaving

≈ Comments Off on In the cross-hatch seat

In the cross-hatch seat of the chair

wooden, dusted in time and use,

a cat

curled

and sleeping.

Looking over at her, floor boards below and sun

reaching through a far window,

doubt can not waver the sweetness

of a morning with feline, coffee, a book

and silence rising from the woods outside.

Where lies

26 Sunday Aug 2018

Posted by feralpoet in abundance, beauty, becoming, break out, change, community, courage, crafting, Creating, devotion, dreams, freedom, honoring, listen, movement, nature, poems, poetry, prayer, release, song, stillness, welcoming, wonder, work

≈ Comments Off on Where lies

If a push,

somewhere a pull.

Where taken,

pray it has been given.

The Western sense of community..

in itself a paradox?

We’re part–everyone–of centuries of history

cycling, tumbling, molasses-thick onward

with nanosecond “advances.”

No mystery that you, and you, and I

can not seem to catch our breath.

Faster is not forward,

as bigger not better, nor more money success.

Where lies the soul stuff making life

Life?

The rest

06 Sunday May 2018

Posted by feralpoet in abundance, becoming, devotion, family, honoring, movement, mystery, night, poems, poetry, prayer, presence, receiving, release, welcoming, wonder, work

≈ Comments Off on The rest

An initiation ritual,

in the dusk-scape of dream,

of shared finery, costume, camaraderie,

and non-blood family

emerging from here, over there,

here, here, there

unexpectedly,

for the me before me,

with a gathering of eager others,

to mark time with life.

Saying no, no but I am not she

not anymore

no–

But as beads pass over head, and colors add up,

layers of feather, bone, cloth

none mine

each display on this body

currently

a light in mind shifts-

not for me

but she

who may pass through, closing

beginning years, finally,

in step with those knowing when it is meant to happen.

Dressed, prepared, without doubts,

I walk the procession.

To celebrate.

To say goodbye.

To welcome all the rest.

The whole warm night through

07 Wednesday Mar 2018

Posted by feralpoet in dreams, listen, nature, night, poems, poetry, prayer

≈ Comments Off on The whole warm night through

A frog in the front garden,

between snow storms,

has much to say:

First, forget the plans-

they were a ruse anyway.

Second, recall sunrise

and the songbirds’ melodious chittering.

Third, fourth, fifth,

forget the numbers,

holding on is holding back.

And then he busts into chorus

the whole warm night through

and a memory of what’s to come

sands a path deep into sleep,

wishing a good slumber

to one and to all~

In the saddle

06 Saturday Jan 2018

Posted by feralpoet in adventure, becoming, break out, change, discomfort, honoring, learning, listen, movement, mystery, nature, poems, poetry, prayer, transition, wonder

≈ Comments Off on In the saddle

At a beginning,

with the closest solitary prayer being

“I don’t know,”

my hips work to keep the rest of me in the saddle.

Movements in the sky-

valley fog, and clouds weaving high through the hills-

live their nature in waves, currents, and vanishings,

grand teachings of the cycles of continual change.

Sometimes, I wish I knew.

But, unintentionally, artfully, that greatest illusion

has been set on the shelf-

a furry trickster friend

who flashes me a smile, and snaps his tail

at the most wicked, and absurd times.

I don’t know becomes

a delicate, gritty daily worship.

Subscribe

  • Entries (RSS)
  • Comments (RSS)

Archives

  • November 2019
  • October 2019
  • May 2019
  • April 2019
  • March 2019
  • December 2018
  • October 2018
  • September 2018
  • August 2018
  • July 2018
  • June 2018
  • May 2018
  • April 2018
  • March 2018
  • February 2018
  • January 2018
  • December 2017
  • November 2017
  • October 2017
  • September 2017
  • July 2017
  • April 2017
  • March 2017
  • February 2017
  • January 2017
  • December 2016
  • November 2016
  • October 2016
  • September 2016
  • August 2016
  • July 2016
  • June 2016
  • May 2016
  • April 2016
  • March 2016
  • February 2016
  • January 2016
  • December 2015
  • November 2015
  • October 2015
  • September 2015
  • August 2015
  • July 2015
  • June 2015
  • May 2015
  • April 2015
  • March 2015
  • February 2015
  • January 2015
  • October 2014
  • September 2014
  • August 2014
  • July 2014
  • June 2014
  • May 2014
  • April 2014
  • March 2014
  • February 2014
  • January 2014

Categories

  • About
  • abundance
  • adventure
  • aging
  • beauty
  • becoming
  • Body
  • break out
  • change
  • community
  • courage
  • crafting
  • craving
  • Creating
  • dark
  • death
  • Deliverance
  • devotion
  • discomfort
  • dread
  • dreams
  • emotion
  • Expanse
  • family
  • fear
  • fearlessness
  • Fire
  • flight
  • Found
  • freedom
  • friends
  • gratitude
  • Healing
  • home
  • honoring
  • Immortal
  • Infinite
  • Inspire
  • joy
  • learning
  • light
  • listen
  • Loss
  • lost
  • Love
  • lovers
  • loving
  • movement
  • mundane
  • Music
  • mystery
  • naked
  • nature
  • night
  • of sorts
  • offering
  • pain
  • peace
  • photos
  • poems
  • poetry
  • prayer
  • presence
  • quotations
  • ramblings
  • receiving
  • release
  • Run
  • Sight
  • song
  • stillness
  • story
  • strength
  • tea
  • the road
  • transition
  • Uncategorized
  • vision
  • weaving
  • welcoming
  • wonder
  • words
  • work

Meta

  • Register
  • Log in

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

Privacy & Cookies: This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use.
To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Cookie Policy