POETRY

Sacred Erotic & Ecstatic Intuitive Poetry

It’s All Music

Light pours through my heart, a beacon of sun radiates bliss across my fingertips and touches your favorite sound: - words of love we whisper - cadence of poetry on our tongues It's all music. An electric sun-ray of hope and generosity, a sanctuary of remembrance, a...

Come to My Sanctuary of Love

Come to my sanctuary of love. This is where honeysuckle lingers on each fingertip,where the scent of jasmine permeates your essence.You are the flower of life,a lotus of love.Open your petals.Feel the nectar tasting your lips.Enter my baptismal waters of ecstasy…...

Poem for Remembering: Mourning

Find the center of mourning. Gently press your palm upon it. Hear its sharp rhythm, its slicing moan, its cry of release —Even when you feel the scrape of humanity etching hurt across division lines —Even when your body reveals fallow aches, secrets buried in plain...

It Doesn’t Have to Be Complicated

It doesn't have to be complicated. It doesn't have to be rushed. There is a play on the wind that calls you, a hush in the moments where all is still. It waits for you: the quiet, the whisper of your heart. Simple blessings radiate the heat of your existence, the way...

How Do You Dream at Night?

How do you dream at night? Do the stars bow to your feet? Do they kiss your honeyed-lips? I want to step inside your sky, write your name upon the moon, taste the milk in my hair, and your hands in my heart. This is how I belong to you - inside you, within you. This...

Feral Light. Dark Wild.

FERAL LIGHT DARK WILD In the dark of the moon Caillech sits with me by the low fire slowly stirring the cauldron of love, my heart the main course to sip the red blessing of devotion after all that has been laid at the lips of the sacred cleft— an opening to truth a...

IN BETWEEN

You light the fire of my heart: tender and warm, a flame to be reconciled.  Do you open yourself to the splendor of possibilities,  the rapturous heat awaiting you? You speak in tongues and whispers, fingertips and salt.  In between, a silence: then crack  like frozen...

THE OCEAN’S RETURN

You are the sea breeze on a summer day: the scent of lavender and wood,  after it rains           :rich in soil - the kind that germinates                     blessings                           for crows                           for morning eagles                  ...

Earth Story: When Earth Speaks

Your body is land-water-sky. You’re birthed from all three. We live within you. Salt bones Liquid light Wind pathways: We bring you home. Home to the light dance. Of water and sky and land. You are our salt. —says Earth— ©Rebeca...

Earth – Sky Tantra: A Loving Birth Story

On the night you were born, Sky made love to Earth—   passionate and filled with such fervor, that a  rumbling, orgasmic, catalytic combustion of  All Life was created.   Word, Sound danced in infinite darkness until light spun   through Sky’s fingers— ...
THE DAWN OF WINTER

THE DAWN OF WINTER

The dawn of winter spreads its long light-wings to the aching meadow, illuminating Frost’s kiss —a coy remnant from last night. You think Summer’s grasses are now stoic, silent with cold: But they linger, blushing frozen white, renewed with glistening diamonds of...

Earth Story: When Earth Speaks

Earth Story: When Earth Speaks

Your body is land-water-sky. You’re birthed from all three. We live within you. Salt bones Liquid light Wind pathways: We bring you home. Home to the light dance. Of water and sky and land. You are our salt. —says Earth— ©Rebeca...

Ancestor Ocean

Ancestor Ocean

The ocean is our ancestor. And our blood ancestors remind us that “The Great Birth of Creation” came from the waters: Waters carried from all sides of the earth. Water carried from joy, from heartbreak. Water bubbling with life—with väki, with awen. Go to the waters....

Wild

Wild

There’s a wild in the river’s rush: crystal ice melted from hard-working glaciers, stone and dust. They’re in a hurry to meet the fjords: the howling wind welcomes them home. ©Rebeca Cavender

Winter

Winter

  Winter’s on the        tip               of          our                                      tongues. Frost speaks        (the ancient language)                        of                                 ice               and                                    ...

When We Listened: A Wailing Song

WHEN WE LISTENED A Wailing Song for George Floyd    When you close your eyes to listen,  what do you hear?    Do you hear his name on the horizon     where ocean meets sky     where seagulls take flight and spread their wings like angels?   Even the...