February 7, 2014 Common Thread Collective Poetic Conscious’stream Is. 12

“I pledge allegiance to Mother Earth

And all the life which she supports.

ONE planet, in our care,

Irreplaceable, with sustenance and respect for all”

-not my words… not sure who’s…

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inseparable

We are ready for the change

Gather us in

An accumulation of crystal visions

Each perspective adding contours

Like cumulous cloud forms

Ready for the transformation

The alchemy of time transfiguring mind and matter

Into new physical forms and ways of being

Ready the floodgates to be open

Filled with precious intuition carefully collected

Over years of listening listening listening to the sound of a world gone awry

Let them open and spill into the drought worn land of our disillusionment

Let them open and spill forth with the creative quenching

Washing away the chemical manipulation

That dried up and hid how heirloom phantasies are withering

That mirage on the horizon is waiting for our belief in the water we need

This year is a horse at my side and ready

We both made it through the muck left by the coal ash, chemicals and bitumen spilling

Now to spring forth, for this toxic deceit is not worth drinking

The fire inside is set for cleansing

Set muscle to bone taught tendons to vault beyond their barbed fencing

The foundations running away from our feet

Are the stones they made to appear perfect but their lies are hollow and empty

We toss the stones the Builders refuse in front for our trodding

Each step faithfully grips a new reality

With each breath together we define what is to be seen

Our visions form vast expanses of vibrant hues of every brilliant color

Feeding fully from the compost of unnecessary deceit

To grow strong wills, opening with transparent clarity

Unafraid to blossom with potent vulnerability

We are ready

To be seen as interdependencies

Rotating lines of horizons and vertices

Spiraling perfect geometry

There is no musician and instrument

We are all fingers and strings

We are all elements of breath and brass and reed

We are all pores in the skin stretched taut

And we hone our will to stretch with what’s taught

By the breeze and the bird and river canal

By the root and the worm and rotting core

By the stem and flower and fruit into seed

We hum with the rhythm of the Universe’s composing

The drum of the heart is our gospel singer

Inspiring

Hands to grasp the hoop of all relating

Here we find all once lost

Is still rippling with longing

We are ready.

January 24, 2014 Common Thread Collective Poetic Commentary Is.10

Excerpt from Empty Harvest: Understanding the Link between Our Food, Our Immunity and Our Planet by Dr. Bernard Jensen and Mark Anderson, copyright 1990 by Bernard Jensen.

From the chapter on Soil, pg 36:

“To appreciate the historical perspective of the diminished state of the human immune system in the 1990s, we must not assume that science and truth march straight ahead and that the present is the beneficiary of the accumulated knowledge of the past. Because, in many instances—health and nutrition is one—the past is full of deception and factual manipulation resulting in the inheritance of a tarnished view of scientific progress. History repeatedly proclaims that business and politics are too important to be governed by the facts of unfeigned science.”

Healthy Forest YNP, photo by Rain 2006

“Business and politics are too important to be governed by

Unfeigned, [genuine] science”…

Oh deceiver

What do you stand to gain

An inch above your brother

For a platform to your shoe inlay’n

Puppet masters began the trend

Now see your height as their will to bend

Easily paid for with the blood of the land

Coins, stolen from the destiny of the dead

Pool in your pockets instead

Now the living dead cannot ferry across

The rivers of Styx and Acheron

Lest we also become acolytes

In the temples of Dow, Monsanto and Chevron

The great-grandfather figureheads of the modern myths

Getting us drunk on the whiskey that pours from their lips

Lulling us to sleep on neoliberal currencies

Too intoxicated to feel the barb-wire sting of their so-called securities

Rocked by the water-treatment-ways that stole the living river from its course

Daydreaming in the empire’s nightmare built on the malnourishment of profit-bound force

Stamped with the claim to Freedom

Freedom, bleached re-enriched with a shelf life of a century

Freedom, soap bubbles floating from the mouths of millions

Freedom, a kingdom of the spirit; we have the keys to it, but cannot find

Freedom is a hollow claim

When the business of politics and industry dictate

Living ways

Perhaps the cry will again

Strike true chords

And remind us that

The life to know is more than mine or yours

We all feed on the health of the soil

The well-being of our rootlets in communion

Foster the well-being of our soul

And therein true Freedom may sprout once more…

December 6, 2013 CommonThread Commentary Is.3

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By Alexandria “Rain” Smith

This piece is dedicated to everyone who doesn’t feel worthy of the liberation we all deserve. We all deserve the Freedom to feel through what we are feeling; to listen and follow our emotion into understanding. We are all worthy of living, feeling, breathing, learning many practices, praxis’ of exploring how we relate and what we create by our own offerings. I dedicate this Peace to every being that has been so challenged to follow their creative passions because an Other, in their weakness, felt threatened by what we might be, empowered—truly the most tragic mishap of all history, the cause of immeasurable pain, these kinds that fester, are refracted and perpetuated through concepts of time. In our moments of eclipsed light may we see the auras of the courageous candles that burned their way through the walls of adversity that others may follow and see: it’s a long road, so you gotta decide what it’s worth to be free.

“Creating health requires making a paradigm shift… to a new way of thinking about and being in relationship with our bodies, our minds, our spirits, and our connection with the universe.” –Chistiane Northrup Women’s Bodies, Women’s Wisdom

“It is what we make out of what we have, not what we are given that separates one person from another.” Nelson Mandela Long Walk to Freedom

We dream ourselves forward. Transformation born of our hope, our need; discovered, within a dry wrinkled weakened sheath, a most beautiful and tiny seed willing to swallow us through the birthing canal into a new day’s dream.  We follow the footsteps of the most beautiful courageous being we can imagine could be. Be, as Florida Scott-Maxwell put it, “Fierce with reality.” We look upon the living tapestry and acknowledge the disease along with the beauty. We refuse to deny that “indelible blight” of Apartheid, American slavery, the Andrew Jackson-Nazi-Pol Pot-Pinochet-Generals of the Dirty War-Mbotu Sese Seko-regimes of unquantifiable atrocities, all these scars we bear as humanity. We will not forget the paths that brought us into darkness that we may face the challenge of bringing each other back into the light. Blessings for the struggles to suture the gashes they were, were born of “proud rebelliousness, a stubborn sense of fairness” that rallies the mistreated to arise!

Life patterns entrap us when they’re not helping to imprint us with positive reinforcement, giving us strength to realize the best stance to take at the moment we are asked what we have to offer. We make the decisive and patient choice to untangle the knots of our conditioning formed by the battles of our personal experience. Meditating upon the mediation of enemy perspectives we hear the song describing the Good Red Road between them. As fully prismatic, multifaceted beings, we become willing to take a multifaceted approach to a life of re-creating health, regenerating the wealth of collective wholeness. We confront the imprisonment of habitual fears, entrenched in presumption culturally created by a hierarchical perspective to maintain perverted states of control, We are breaking free to realize we can lay the foundations that allow true strength to catalyze and evolve into miraculous collaborations no one alone could have ever foreseen.

On this walk, we take with us the wisdom forged before us, for us. We listen to the voices calling within us speaking the languages of fellow ailments wailing like a mighty chorus. We retreat when the violence simply floors us, but we will never surrender our will to wait for a break in the storm to let the rainbow once again shine and realign the paradigms in order to see the path of mending before us.

Peace

Selah

Blessed Be.