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Old 03-04-2013, 05:34 PM   #13
Sweet Bliss
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Default Another oldie

As i sit here on the front porch i can see the lights of the valley below me sending out their last bit of twinkle, letting me know that all is well and running smoothly. Somewhere along the Rio Grande River Valley is my precious youngest granddaughter to the south of me and to the north along the same valley is my oldest granddaughter and two grandsons. To my left, too far to see is Arizona, where my son is probably taking a shower and getting ready to attend his college classes and swigging a cup of coffee, straight, grabbing his backpack and heading for the University. My daughter is probably letting the dog out to tinkle just like Yoda just did, and as she stands in the doorway waiting for him to find the perfect spot, she is probably thinking about all the things she has to get done today before my granddaughter awakens demanding to be held and wanting cereal.

The moon is setting in the western horizon, a kind of orange glowing ball, it is sliding behind the west mesa as i write this for you. i'm feeling kind of melancholy this morning, not sure why. My ceramic Goddess is watching to the south, silently standing in the chilly air. She is simplicity. As i sit next to her i am reminded of all the women who have come before me, the women who share this time on earth with me, and the ones who will arrive after we are gone. The First Mother, what challenges did she face? Did she know she was the First Mother? Her DNA beginning the wheel of humanity, civilization, culture? Did she i wonder, cry at the birth of her first child, cry at the death of another. Did she mate for life or was she a member of a tribe where intimacies were openly shared with all? Did she bare her soul to the Moon or the Sun, or were the Mountains that sheltered her the foundation of her awakening sense of self? Did she intimately connect with the Earth that recorded her steps and passage, memorizing the details of each plant she tested, each berry nibbled and each fiber woven into the texture of her world? Did she have visions of a future she didn't understand?

Morning Sun is arising behind me, the mesa to the west is no longer sharing the twinkling lights of the valley. the roar of the freeway is getting louder, and the hum of tires and pounding of the asphalt is familiar and irritating at the same time... the quiet solitude of my childhood is a faded memory, i recall little of that time. The sleepy village in France, with the smell of bread baking before dawn can still be recalled in my mind if i concentrate really really hard. It was the only place on earth where i felt at home. Not knowing that it would be over 40 years before i would discover it was my the home of my ancestors. I want to see it again before my time here is done. I am grateful that my mother was an aspiring artist and created many works of art while we lived there. There is a painting of the little old lady with the stooped back feeding her chickens and ducks across the creek with her thatched roofed home behind her nestled under an ancient tree. The happiest time of my life was spent by that creek. Each morning upon waking i meditate as i drink in the visual reminder my mother gifted me.

While you sleep safe and warm in our shared nest, i remember when we first met. You were with her and i was with hym.....i was thinking how i wish i could walk in her shoes for just an hour, The tenderness and compassion and love you gave her so freely, expecting nothing in return showed me that the love i craved was possible. I never dreamed you saw the same in me until you shared your secret longing during our pillow talk time. Every moment spent with you is a jewel that i tuck away in my heart, the ease with which you care for me is proof that loving is a natural state for you, i'm so grateful to be a part of your life and receive the gift of love compassion and tenderness that is you.

When you awake i will pour your coffee for you in one of the Goddess cups i made years ago. Her plump figure, round soft breasts that feed the world, and the tiny feet she stands on tippy toe to kiss your forehead and bless you, will warm your hands as we sit out here on the porch sharing our morning thoughts, holding hands across the table.
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