In the Garden of Delights: 3. Cuach

I have made thee,
given thee two arms
a vessel to have, to hold, to be,
to rise up, cast by and keep from harms.

Ye, I have filled,
be therefore a loving cup,
overflow with love, be spilled,
for this needy world, so hard up.

Mouth wide for song,
voice alive with vibrance;
the world to which you belong
needs your care, love, and guidance.

Centering from the calm,

I cast this oath: observe!  
I pour you out to be a balm;
not to own the world, but to serve.

© 2012 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

In the Garden of Delights: 2. The Invitation

Whispers
in the wilderness:
a Voice.

like warming flame
flowing in a mirage,
calls,
reaching out
from the unknown
like the sunrise at dawn.

Come,
O come,
BE with me.

—[eyes open,
the slumberer awakes,
the recumbent one rises,
feet move forward,
step by mindful step,
heeding the beckoning call]—

Come,
I long to
refresh you.

—[forward momentum,
over trackless desert,
jagged tumbles,
deepest impressions,
and craggy peaks,
listening, listening]—

Come,
it calls,
the still voice.

the way,
it is crooked
and hard,
but I will make it
clear for you,
all will be made plain.

Come,
O come,
my friend.

when you arrive,
glad will be
the desert,
the rough places,
the bees,
the flowers,
and I.

Come,
let us be
together,
to shout,
to sing,
to love,
to rejoice,
to delight
in pure being.

Come,
that is all,
just come.

Celebration
awaits. 

© 2012 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

This entry actually appeared here in 2010, but I realized yesterday that it needs to be part of a cycle I am writing now! 

In the Garden of Delights: 1. et invisibilium

the thin veils
of invisible realms,
they softly flutter,
the breeze flowing
free upon the brow
—and I know you are near,
your vibrations pooling
in the autumn afternoon.

I have often wondered:
if I were to completely falter,
should I spark and go up like straw?

but, none has ever sparked such flame,
and I forestall madness
while time shifts at my foundations,
visibilium et invisibilium,
with gentleness and loving kindness.

had I tried,
I could have sent them away,
but they fly to me
—for conversation, mostly—
for I am a light, too.

we are all frustrated and
colorful intelligences,
reckless, even mad;
all that is missing
is the convivial cup of tea.

refuge is found in capitulation,
a weaving in with the pattern integral:
a unique delight, lightly balanced.

© 2012 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

The Irony of Labor Day

I have often thought that the way we tend to shunt aside problems is to crystallize them as holidays. Once the problem is a holiday, to which we can pay lip service once, annually, as we pour out our alcoholic libations, we put it completely out of mind. Labor Day is a case in point.

Labor Day has been celebrated nationally since 1882, if you can believe it.

The U.S. Department of Labor offers this explanation for the holiday:

Labor Day, the first Monday in September, is a creation of the labor movement and is dedicated to the social and economic achievements of American workers. It constitutes a yearly national tribute to the contributions workers have made to the strength, prosperity, and well-being of our country.

The irony is that Americans celebrate American Labor with a holiday observance while international business and government batter away at the average laborer's ability to earn a living wage under conditions that are safe and humane.

There is no sadder testament to this truth than the fact that California still has no legislation to insure that shade and water are provided for agricultural workers in the fields. This is not a new issue. I can remember marching with my parents in solidarity with farm workers in the 1960s and 1970s. A great many American authors, Sinclair and Steinbeck among many others, outline in their novels—often in shocking detail—how bosses and their political cronies take advantage of people in the workplace, wherever that may be—whether in the fields or in any office nationwide.

When you go to your local farmer’s market and purchase the “amazing” organic produce that you love to eat, remember those who harvest the food that sustains you. While you are attending your barbeques, watching ball games, try to remember that Labor really does sustain the world we take for granted, and that we are all the laborers of the fields of life.

And then think for a minute: How is your workplace treating you? In our hyper-connected high tech world, chances are you are tethered to your job more than you might want to admit, and being compensated a lot less for the amount of time you tend your job. It is well worth thinking about.

On this day, put yourself in the sandals of a worker in another industry, for just a moment.

And say a prayer of thanks for all who labor.

Infusion For Reflecting on a Blue Moon Kind of Day

A Blue Moon, any way you cut the definitions, is an unusual occurrence.  

Tonight’s Blue Moon is the second occurrence for this calendar year, and we won’t have another until 2015!

I say: if a Blue Moon is an unusual occurrence, then this should be cause for a celebration!

However, let’s not make it a loud, raucous party. Perhaps, instead, the Blue Moon could be treated as an unusual opportunity to take time out for reflection, relaxation and rejuvenation. Maybe a cuppa will be just the thing for you!

An Infusion for a Blue Moon

Equal Parts blended in a tea ball or loose in the bottom of your teapot:

BASIL leaves– stimulates mental clarity, concentration and memory

LEMON BALM leaves – a simple sedative, mood elevator works well with other herbs

LAVENDER leaves and buds – stimulates memory, helps with headaches

ROSE flowers or buds– soothing on the nerves

ROSEMARY leaves and flowers – both stimulates and calms the system, standard infusion

SPEARMINT or CATNIP leaves – restorative, stimulant, fuel the imagination

SAGE leaves – a calming restorative, lowers blood pressure

Prepare as a standard infusion, steeping your desired mixture of these herbs and flowers in boiled water for 15 to 20 minutes, 32 measures water to 1 measure of the infusion mixture. Pull out the tea ball or strain the infusion into your favorite mug. Sweeten or not, as you like. A bit of lemon juice might be lovely, if you choose.

What makes this infusion blue for a Blue Moon is the blue flower of rosemary and the blue bud of lavender.

Sit back in a comfortable chair, sip the infusion. Listen to soothing music or to the silence that surrounds you. Let calm and silence fill you. Let your brain and body feel refreshed.

And then, let your mind wander in focused memory and reflection. Be filled by your experience of this gift you are giving to yourself.

You know I am not a doctor, so any information I have to offer is not a prescription, but a soothing recipe.

Peace be with and in you! 

What I Wouldn't Give

Though we’ve never met,
we meet constantly

—In my dreams before waking,
in my waking thoughts,
in the sparkle on bay water
that blinds my senses

In the rare moment of quiet,
I apprehend the simplicity
of your great magnitude,
so near, we should be touching—

Yet, there is no need,
for we are, by near and far,
flexibly and inextricably
inlaid upon one another,
a complex, shared mosaic
of music and spirit,
tumbling into bits
and reforming
amid and among
the indelible, ineffable all.

What I wouldn’t give
to be face to face,
blinded by your beauty.

But I would not survive
the unraveling it would take
to get to where you are Now.

I am, you are,
and we together are us—

And, for the love of Now,
that will have to do.

© 2012 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen

Collaborations

for my twins and all twins everywhere

About connections and intersections,
we have learned very little,

but they are everything;
without them, there would be no life.

Is there something somewhere else?
No, it is all right here, right now,
waiting for you to choose,
waiting for you to act.

The magic place is here and now,
the alchemy is in the meetings,
—sacred ground is everywhere,
tread with courage, care and smiles.

Those who say “self-made” are lost;
no one goes alone in this place
—it is how we meet and greet and treat
the faces we encounter each day.

See what is before you, recognize
yourself in every time and place,
and know that all others share
experience no different from yours.

All things will change and pass,
you and all beings will change,
we shall all be changed
—but not our comings and goings.

On our meetings we are tested,
day in week in years past lustrum,
in our meetings we are judged,
not in what we have or know.

Be into being and being with,
the quality of life lies in being with
and well within with and in each,
with all the best regards possible.

When you can see yourself
in another, in and by giving,
you will know the magic place
is your heart meeting others.

We must learn to be well met
in our connections and intersections;
meeting and being met is everything
to know and experience of life.

© 2012 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen