On Autumn Delights - California in November

 

Since the stream dried out, yucca is no longer blooming, and I cannot wade in ankle-deep water, I stopped going for walks in the Wash. How many times can you walk down the same path and not get bored? I got restless in front of my laptop one lovely, sunny afternoon when the sky was perfect sapphire or lapis-lazuli, so brilliant and the sun just became golden, painting the hills into hues of amber and linden honey.

A surprise was waiting for me among pungent bushes of sage and manzanita - some yucca stalks, dried and lifeless were perfectly golden in the setting sun. So a poem came back home with me from that peaceful walk. 

Fall Yucca

Golden stems shine like beams of sunset

piercing the purple valley that sinks

into darkness under a soap-bubble sky.

The stems lean sideways, imperceptibly falling

- these are our leaning towers of Yucca in the desert 

valley that I make my home. I breathe deeply, delighted 

by the omnipresent sheen and sparkle of sonorous 

cicadas that rush to surround me with their scintillating

songs of summer, before rains silence them into sleep.

Long, narrow yucca leaves gather at the stems

like supersonic star-beams meeting at one point 

on the horizon, blurred by velocity of a Star Wars flight.

They burst out at dusk with a silvery glow 

of moonlight - then detach from their drying stems 

to crumble into the thick charcoal of the earth.

The yucca's white lily flowers have long turned into 

bunches of seed-pods - waiting to fall and germinate 

into spikes of sharp leaves that poke from the rocky soil 

with a promise and a certainty of survival – 

the next year's yucca.  Shadows reveal sparks

of icy stars above me – I walk home, content. 

My rock heart that I wrote a ballad about and kept placing on a little indent in a larger rock is gone, so I found another rock heart and placed it right there. This place I call the Rock Heart Valley, so it has to have its heart!  Nearby someone put together a tall cairn of rocks, so I took a photo  of it. 

https://poetrylaurels.blogspot.com/2019/02/blog-post.html

I'm not the only one here interested in rock art. someone else put together a spiral to walk into and outside. I did that and got dizzy from turning inwards at smaller and smaller angles, until the whole valley was rotating around me, standing transfixed under the sapphire sky. 

The nights are cool these days, winter chill comes out right after sunset, though it still feels like summer in direct sunlight. Roses like it and after slumbering through the hottest months of the year, July through September, they finally started blooming again. I have several new, fragrant varieties to join the pink French Perfume that had as many as 30 roses simultaneously.  The smaller bushes have one or two, but so pretty in their rainbow colors and delicate, intoxicating scents.  Sometimes I stand in front of the rose bush and take 10-20-30 breaths of the rose perfume - aromatherapy done live!  Here's a new poem about the two-color rose, cream inside, blush pink outside, called the Double Delight. 

Double Delight

Gentle as dawn, clearing 

the sky of midnight nightmares 

my November rose smiles to herself 

rearranging the bluh and pink crinoline 

of petals folded into a heart –

her secret within

She tells me to laugh 

and laugh again, overflowing 

with childish joy, champaign bubbling 

in a crystal – while the air around me –

is heavy with cries of panic, anguish, hate.

“What of the news?” you say, 

“Who lived, who died, who suffered?”

I’m silent, exploring the inner landscapes 

that only music knows – the infinity 

of cellos, violins, and the lover’s gaze 

locked in the key of brightness.

I'm grateful for my Double Delight, I'm grateful for my pomegranates, here filled with thank-yous in so many languages. Gratitude is the virtue of blessings. 

Planetary Church of Plants? How to Create a New Religion

I'm so glad and so grateful to be alive here and now, on this planet where crickets sing all around me, on my patio at sunset, in my living room at midnight.  Our planet is so vibrant, so green. No wonder, green is the color of the heart chakra, the emerald of love.

Isn't it fascinating to just wake up one day and look around and say:"yes, that's right, everything is just right..."?  It takes a while to get to this point - that's why the happiest people are those over 70, who retired and can just enjoy life in their gardens, while the least happy are those juggling jobs, careers, relationships, children, and survival in their 30s and 40s.  Instead of watching TV, Netflix, or browsing Facebook -"who said what about whom?" who cares? - I like sitting on the patio and listening to the multiple patterns and rhythms of the crickets all around me.  Summer evenings are full of delight. Noon, too, filled with hundreds of bees gathering nectar in my myrtle tree; this, to me is the sound of life, all these bees...

So what do I think about when listening to the crickets? How about making up a new religion? A Planetary Church of Plants? I share the invention of this name with a friend. Not sure I'll ever have it registered and incorporated, but I'll certainly attend its services whenever I feel like it. I created a catechism of sorts for it, too, a set of core ideas worthy of consideration and application in daily life. But before getting to those ideas, let us enjoy the mountains:

Blue Sierra 

oh, to float into blue distance
a dream of weightlessness,
knowledge of nothing but the air
in the lungs, air carrying the limbs
from cloud to cloud into being,
into tranquility, into peace

all made of water, we live
in the Cloud of Unknowing
we breathe a shroud
surrounding the mystical
peaks of the Ancient One
that will not be known
nor understood fully

we have to, we must fly
higher, we must grow wings,
strain in childish hope
that we’ll find brilliance
hidden beyond the bluest
blue of infinity, of time

(c) 2008, first published in Miriam's Iris: Angels in the Garden

How to Create a New Religion

My new religion is my own way of connecting to All that Is, I AM, the Source, the One.  I've read tons and tons of inspirational and spiritual books, and came to the conclusion that everyone is right. And everyone is wrong, too, at the same time.  The basics are to be universally shared and accepted but many religions hide them instead and ask to be paid for the secret.

ONE, as Spinoza discovered, God cannot be outside of this world since God is infinite. Therefore, as Apostle Paul wrote "we live, we breathe, we move, we are in God that is everywhere.

TWO, We are all one -all connected to the One in two ways - our eternal spark of life, the spirit, the Soul, and second - our bodies that are made of matter and are constantly being renewed and remade from new particles, food, energy, air, water - all that endlessly cycles through us.

THREE, Here things are getting complicated - we each have our own Higher Selves - the timeless entities that remains "in the spirit" while we live through one re-incarnation after another, learn one lesson after another. This Higher Self is made of eternal Light and connected to the physical body by a silver cord, or a link of subtle energy. Have I seen it? No. Why would I believe in it? Why not? I've been told to believe in my Guardian Angel already, so why not make this Angel my own self?

FOUR, Reincarnation, karma, and the laws of One, of Love, Forgiveness, and "as above so below" are real and our purpose here is to learn to Love and to collect those moments of Love, like beads of a diamond necklace.

FIVE, physical death is the end of one lesson, a gateway to rest and a prelude to return, first back to the Source for a respite - we go there if we do not have ties that bind and are free of karma. If we are on the right path, there is no spiritual death, in spirit, or soul, we are infinite, endless.

SIX, we come back for another lesson, another lifetime if a) we are slow learners and need to stay one more time in the same grade of the Earth school, b) we do a wrong thing and have to undo it by repeating the experience, and c) we are perfect already and all-loving, but we want to help others.

SEVEN, we are not alone, the universe is full of beings - humans like us and those who are from higher dimensions, more advanced in the school of Love. Some of them are full of loving kindness, but others are not.

EIGHT, the way out and up is to learn to love, be thankful, grateful, kind, peaceful, creative, joyous, and of service to others. Service is important, for how else can we prove we love, if we do not serve?

NINE, the way forward is to focus on Light (some of the entities and beings live in darkness and want to turn us also away from the path of Light) so we focus and analyse and improve ourselves and follow the path of ascension. This is done effortlessly, without striving. This means literally becoming lighter - freeing ourselves of attachments, and consequences of negative experiences and emotions. Only those with feather-light -heart can come in to the Divine Presence. Others have to go back and do it over again. Ancient Egyptians knew it already. Why have we forgotten?

TEN, All life - from rocks, sand, soil, mountains, through trees, animals, birds, insects, stars, oceans, and galaxies has a spark of life within. We are all one. Thus, killing sentient life for food is not acceptable. Killing and harming others, especially sentient beings is not acceptable. It does not come from Love, it is not Love, and it does not lead to greater Love, so it is spiritually useless. Thus, we do not eat meat.

ELEVEN, Meditation is a daily delight - mantras, prayers, chants, all help, but the focus is on finding Light, God, the Divine within - and on being aware of one's own energetic body and of the energy flows in and around us. This means also awareness of ways of protecting our own spiritual space. And noticing the presence of other entities or beings, sometimes kind and helpful but at other times willing to invade our space. So this means clearing the air, so to speak. Wrapping ourselves in our own cocoon of white light.

TWELVE, Therefore, the best way forward and up is to follow the "Golden Rule" (treat others as  you want to be treated) as well as basic rules of "Love Everyone, Respect Everything" coupled with the Hawaiian code of conduct: "Sorry, Forgive, Thank, Love" (Ho'oponopono) and the Native American Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz:
1) Be Impeccable with your Word,
2) Do not Take Anything Personally,
3) Do not Make Assumptions, and
4) Always Do Your Best.

Now, that my TWELVE has split into four parts, or twelve again, if counting each step, it is time to stop. Things are becoming too complicated.

Everyone knows those rules, anyway. Ancient Egyptians wrote out the Golden Rule as "Now this is the command: Do to the doer to make him do" (Goddess Ma'at), and in a negative form as "That which you hate to be done to you, do not do to another."  In ancient Indian Mahabharata, the rule is described as a lesson to the king: "by self-control and by making dharma (right conduct) your main focus, treat others as you treat yourself."  In ancient Greece, the emphasis was on not doing the wrong thing: "Avoid doing what you would blame others for doing." – Thales. In Judaism, Leviticus (19:18) has the following verse: "You shall not take vengeance or bear a grudge against your kinsfolk. Love your neighbor as yourself: I am the LORD." Finally, in Christianity, the Golden Rule took the form of "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you" (words of Jesus in the Gospels of Matthew 7:12 and Luke 6:31).

Knowing the words is not an issue. Doing the right thing all the time - now, that's a real challenge!
We can learn to be patient and kind from the trees.

A Tree Epiphany 

                          ~for Kristin Sabo who found the whale of a tree

I want the solid serenity of trees
the sighs of their boughs in the wind 
roots reaching to the core of the earth

an oak perhaps,or a grand plane tree
thatmajestic one in Descanso Gardens
a whale of the tree, floating on waves of air

or maybe that regal eucalyptus 
with multicolored bark - a canvas for centuries
shedding memories of droughts and storms

or liquid amber, oh my liquid amber
melting gold and bronze at my feet
nourishing the roots, seeds, new leaves

Wait for the sleeping earth to awaken 
the boughs sigh in the northern wind
the roots reach deeper, still deeper 

I adore the trembling of birches in the breeze, 
whispering:quiet, quiet, now listen –before 
leaves fall, bare branches shiver in the snow

an apple tree, comely and fruitful
in an abandoned orchard by the crossroads
shylyoffers gifts to all passers-by

I want the serenity of trees 
to fill my heart with their sighs, with their 
whispers, with their sleep.

Now that we've seen the whale of a tree - the Plane Tree in Descanso Gardens - let's make life simple. Let's go to the beach and enjoy building sand castles to be washed away by the ocean waves.

My Favorite Wildflowers in California - A Photo Essay (Haiga Sequence)

When spring stretches its days and falls into the hot weight of the summer, it is time to visit the heroic blossoms of the chaparral  yucca, reaching up to the sky, against all odds.  This flower, so abundant in the valley where I live, is a survivor on the go. The plant with thin, blade-like spiky leaves (with extremely sharp tips, like needles), sends up one thick stem that grows and grows and grows until it starts unfurling a cascade of white flowers, off white maybe, ivory or cream, and the whole valley fills with these gigantic candle-like blossoms. Then they go to seed and die, and the seeds sprout anew nearby and a new flower points at clouds, and the cycle continues...

in a green desert 

yucca blossoms open -

a skyward ladder

tall yucca blossoms

point to cloudy desert sky -

magic without rain

spring desert delight

coconut and whipped cream  -

yucca whipplei

sharp spikes and shadows

the silver galaxy of yucca leaves -

enter at your peril

the magic of symmetry

moves in a blur of  lines

into yucca's heart

a blue jay in the blue sky

watches the world go round  and round

from the flower top 

serene after sunset -

aqua, fuchsia and violet sky

pierced by whiteness

flower triplets 

born of sand and rocks 

reach for the sky 

this dot is the moon -

prim yucca patiently explains

to disheveled clouds

yuccas at sunset -

spikes and blossoms unfold 

against the dark

here it is 

my yucca on the tip of my finger

in my valley

My other favorite flower grows here and there in the wild, but it is also planted in garden. This is the white and yellow poppy growing on two meter tall stems with silvery green leaves: The Matilija Poppy (Romneya coulteri). I like it so much, I put it on the cover of the anthology, Meditations on Divine Light. It does look like a sun with a corona of light, and  rays, doesn't it? Or maybe the ballerina, or Marilyn with her skirts floating on the hot air from the subway vents? But certainly not an egg, surely not an egg...

breeze lifts the skirts

of a shy ballerina -

Marilyn reborn

the thrill of frills

unfurling from a tight ball

into a sunburst

petal and clouds

float above my head - I squint, 

flooded by sunlight

Hello, Ms. Bee

we both love gold nectar and honey -

I eat yours

...but then, there other flowers growing in the wild, including the rare Plummer's Mariposa and the Humboldt Lilies (Lilium humboldtii) photographed high up in the San Gabriel Mountains by Kristin Sabo. Both lilies are endemic to Southern California and extremely rare. 

Plummer's mariposa

discovers the triune symmetry

once again

wild mountain lily -

fuzzy geometry of dusk

in three petals

twin jellyfish  -

lilies swim through the sunset

to the night's ocean 

And, of course, there is an abundance of flowers, not so wild, in Descanso Gardens, starting from an forest of camellias, imported from Japan and bought by Mr. Boddy from a Japanese nursery at the time of deportations in the 1940s.  I wrote about those camelias already and even made a collage of the Sunbloom, with a white corona and golden rays:

camellia stamens

dance, twist, wave, turn

seeking the sun

ever calling - never heard

ever seeking - never seen

revealed

  

http://poetrylaurels.blogspot.com/2013/01/happy-new-year-2013-with-sunbloom-and.html

But would there be flowers, if there were no leaves? We had visited the sharp spikes of the yucca already. Here are some wet leaves in the rain in Descanso Gardens. I do not know what they are, but sure they shine brightly, like polished jade.

smoothed by raindrops

emerald leaves stretch and sigh -

a green heart of spring

line after line -

the elemental breath exhales 

oxygen into air