My son's sweet voice and a moments lesson

    ~ This week I got to hear my son say " Yoga". He is five and this should not be a big deal but he has been slow to develop his speech. For two years we have taken him to therapy twice a week and just in the past 5 months he has made a real turnaround. Granted " Yoga" is not a hard word to repeat but at that moment, as he came in the room and threw his dads Yoga mat in the floor beside mine and said " Mommy, I do Yoga on my Yoga mat! and preceded to do just that. I was a proud, proud momma! 
    Later on, thinking on those five minutes he was on that mat, I realized that this was the most important gift/lesson I could possibly give my son. No matter what happens in his life, if he takes it to his mat, I know he's going to be okay. It will give him stability and balance in all areas of his life. It will help him through school, in his career and relationships. It will guide him in political and spiritual decisions and bring him to the best possible option for him. Though it may not have been the toughest or the longest word for him to say, it is by far one of the most important.
     All of this has only strengthened my resolve to to go through teacher training. I now realize this is a much further reaching process than I ever imagined 8 months ago. ~ 

Stillborn

Stillborn

Stillborn

In memory

The streets of gold began to crumble

beneath the feet of would be mothers

on their backs they carry dolls

sporting masks of former lovers

of the gods and demigods

they gather with them all

open up their peasants robes

and to the street

they let them fall

And there in crumbled golden streets

All the would be mothers weep

Their sex is lying at their feet

Their wombs just sacrificial meat

and they inhale...

all together their last breath
all together say their prayer
and all together they will sleep
and die down in a childless dream

The Obsessive Mind

In a flood 
like a rush 
they wash over me
those thought provoking emotions 
that take me back decades
giving it to me in spades
these visions
this pain
Nonsense
it doesn't make any
the words are indiscernible 
but the intent is there
Some of us are just not born to be glorious
we live our lives sad and furious
in a pathetic attempt to play the game 
in the world that “Normal” created
a place where we are truly demeaned 
often misunderstood
and sometimes hated,
mostly by ourselves.
And we go on, 
and we go on
and we go on
by ourselves