Thanks Jules

Permission Granted

by David Allen Sullivan

You do not have to choose the bruised peach
or misshapen pepper others pass over.
You don't have to bury
your grandmother's keys underneath
her camellia bush as the will states.

You don't need to write a poem about
your grandfather coughing up his lung
into that plastic tube—the machine's wheezing
almost masking the kvetching sisters
in their Brooklyn kitchen.

You can let the crows amaze your son
without your translation of their cries.
You can lie so long under this
summer shower your imprint
will be left when you rise.

You can be stupid and simple as a heifer.
Cook plum and apple turnovers in the nude.
Revel in the flight of birds without
dreaming of flight. Remember the taste of
raw dough in your mouth as you edged a pie.

Feel the skin on things vibrate. Attune
yourself. Close your eyes. Hum.
Each beat of the world's pulse demands
only that you feel it. No thoughts.
Just the single syllable: Yes ...

See the homeless woman following
the tunings of a dead composer?
She closes her eyes and sways
with the subways. Follow her down,
inside, where the singing resides.

Anne Cameron's Wisdom

"She told me about the Creator not a man and not a woman but both, it doesn't matter; and there is no name other than the Creator, the voice which must be obeyed - a good force, a good spirit, a good soul. The Creator made everything there is in this world and all other ones, made the birds and fish, the animals and the trees, the rocks, the flowers and us and made it all with love. And when everything was done and everything was made the Creator smiled. The Creator knew that nobody who'd ever be alive would know everything or have all the answers but everybody would have questions, so the Creator took a little bit of the best of everything and Creator made a rich river and that river is in you and in me and it's in that cedar tree and in that rock and it's in every grain of sand on this beach. A river of copper because copper is sacred, comes in five colors, that's one more color than magic. And all the holy people all the sacred people all the special people who have gifts are part of this river - the poets and the dancers, the healers, the painters, the storytellers and drummers and everyone who walks and talks and breathes in courage and in faith. And if you have love and faith and courage and trust and aren't afraid, you can find that river and go to it and drink truth from it and find some answers for yourself" Anne Cameron

The Days Are Getting Darker And Our Hearts Our Getting Warmer

                           Dacey and Mom