Tricks 'n Treats

Tricks 'n Treats!

A clamor I hear

as chilluns draw near,

transformed by disguises,

no one realizes

who they really are.

One night to startle,

to beg and to bartle

for treats or tricks benign.

Dressed in rags,

some like hags,

still others heroes

or nutsy Neros,

they make their way

Through the village

festooned with fallish goods,

pumpkins, ghosts and

webs galore.

Tis a night for

fear-quelling,

for ridding our dwellings

of Lokis and Kokopelis,

and by a witches' broom

sweeping out the stale,

bored spirits so

our winter's hibernation

will rest secure.

Throw some candy to the moon,

and if it doesn't return,

the spirits will protect you

another sun cycle

til the next Eve of Hallows

once more compels us

to scream:

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Hallowed Night

Comes the strangely night

of pointed hats

and cheeseling rats,

of flootering bats

and singing cats.

Tis a night of the ghastly

and the ghostly,

but mostly holograms

 of mistly terrors.

Orangey, bulbous,

fearly faces

and glowly guts

greet the ghouly paraders

begging for sucrose

and rendered fat

that'll bloat the belly

and slow the mind,

so to pad the pockets

of druggy billionaires

that they may live

a blessed, healthy life.

O Hallowed Night,

moonlit and fogly,

invented to feign

the ghosts of a neighborly cosmos,

invites taunting

by those disturbed souls

too fearful to love,

petrified to become,

fettered by unforgiveness

and fooled by self-unknowing.

So they taunt

and disquiet the unthinking

and the unaware,

to block them from knocking

on the golden door,

denying many from

entering and tasting

the truth.

But then,

without darkness,

how can we know the Light?

So, scream loudly

this hallowed night,

unhinge the bones,

disconcert the spooks

and demons,

so to chill their innards

as they should scutter away

from us boldly incarnates,

and awed by

such self-assuredness,

perhaps, perhaps…

they just might

turn to the Light

and be saved.

Happy Halloween!

The Fire Is Us

Enjoyed a WONderful dinner at ZZ & Joe's last night with our monthly UU dinner group. ZZ's email comment inspired this poem. Frog refers to a restaurant in Phila., from which came the delicious carrot cake recipe.

The Fire Is Us

A gathering of souls,

known each to the other

by face and voice and manner.

Sharing space,

sharing breaths,

savoring the fare

lovingly prepared

to nourish:

babaganush and brie,

mushroom barley soup,

pasta salad,

whole-grain breads

with lots of butter,

wine flowing,

water pouring,

a carrot cake designed

by Frog.

But first,

the darts did fly and crash,

flights exploding,

til ended the game

the host did win,

by ONE!

Sated, filled,

the dark descends,

and by the bon's flame

we sit and warm our

noses and toes.

Sparks like fireflies

filling the darkness,

exploding with light

and thrilling the heart,

children again, we are,

caught up in wonder and awe.

The fire - a reminder

that Life itself burns

with a Spirit Fire,
and that Fire is us.

The Immigrant

I had a dream.

I traveled so far from home,

where sights and smells

had comforted my safety,

and gave me sweet memories

that fed sweet dreams,

and I could breathe

a deep sigh of contentment.

But here, now so far

from the familiar smells

and sounds

which comforted my safety,

I am torn,

a fish out of water,

gasping for the sunshine

which always warmed my bones

and gave me solace,

and a reason to smile.

New words,

new ideas,

new ways of being human,

a culture apart,

a language unthought,

a people not yet familiar,

but waiting for me

to become a part of the people

I at first feared.

I came here to live a better life.

I will not waste it.

I will adapt.

I will survive.

And I will contribute

to this wonderful nation

with my life

and with my progeny.

A Dream Full of Stars

This poem was inspired by a dear friend who shared with me a profound and lucid dream she had recently. With her permission:

A Dream Full of Stars

I dreamed a dream tonight:

Drawn along by

invisible hands,

flying thru billions

of stars of lucid colors,

brighter than bright,

against the blackest of blacks,

my spirit soars.

I am fed by angels

as I continue my journey home

after years of earthly gain,

never alone.

Letting go of organic form,

remembering slowly

the truth of who I am,

giving thanks and

received by loving hearts

glowing with joy,

how can I not accept

God's gift of love?

Love alone draws me,

Love alone consoles me,

Love alone heals me,

Love alone invites me

and fills me once more

with all that is,

with all that is, my Love,

 with ALL that is.

I shall rest for only a spell

and return to make a difference

in a world of broken hearts,

of minds dulled by karma and untruths,

but of such beauty and wonder,

how can I not respond to the call?

Though I do not know the hour,

I know the journey will be guided

and lighted by Love,

by Love, Who Is.

No more pain,

no handicaps,

no more confusion,

no more confession,

no derision,

no judging,

no more guessing.

I will be Home.

There is only Love,

only Love, Who Is.

I will be Home.

I know this,

for I was told

in a dream full of stars.

I will be Home.

Happy Birthday!

Happy Day 1 of a

Happy Month of

my Happy Birthday!

So much to thank for,

I can't ask for more.

God provides,

and my soul confides

in the blessings that surround me,

like a butterfly cloud

of deep blue and gold.

I have done little

to warrant such blessings,

but daily I am confessing

my gratitude.

Deo gratias,

Deus meus et omnia.

Day 1