Life’s weaving as HerSelf 

I will be writing a poem per day during the month of April, and will be studying the Kybalion during the month of April. They wove together to create this:   


Life’s weaving as HerSelf 


warmth saturates the insides of my mouth,

jettisons into my spine, springing



a roaming entourage of

rolling sensations

spreads into my shoulder blades,

and across my back. Helloooooooo

orgasmic flow.


shimmering, shooting!,


outwards through limbs.


I am Alive

I rolled over this morning, slowly opening my eyes. Snow greeted me a few days ago, fog today. This mysterious fog, embracing the trees. As far as I could see, countless trees being held by a sea of fog. Stillness. Every morning I feel gratitude at being greeted: by branches swaying, trees standing tall, the sky and what she beholds. Sometimes there is stillness, like this morning. Other times there is much activity, like the day before. Always there are reminders greetings me that I am alive.


I am alive.